Dante
“Is everything ready?” I asked, straightening my cuffs as I stepped into the office.
Matteo didn’t look up from the tablet in his hand. “Media’s set. Lights, sound, the whole circus.
The princess just has to show up and smile.”
“She’ll smile,” I said. “Or she’ll learn.”
He smirked. “The Caruso girl learning? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
The elevator chimed. Matteo flicked the tablet off. “Showtime.”
Serafina walked out like the building belonged to her—burgundy coat, hair loose, chin high. Beautiful. Inconvenient. Dangerous.
“Romano,” she said, voice cool.
“Serafina.” I gestured toward the conference room. “This way.”
She swept past me without a glance for Matteo. Inside, the press room glared with white light. Cameras lined up like rifles; reporters buzzed, hu
