DANTE’S POV
“A toast to new alliances,” my uncle says, raising his glass.
“A toast.”
Glasses clink. The room fills with smoke and noise.
Men start congratulating me on the territory expansion and power.
I nod and sip my drink.
I don’t really care.
I want to leave.
I want to go home.
I want to go see her. I don’t know what spell she’s cast on me but it’s working.
I push my chair back and decide to head for the door.
“Dante. Where are you going?”
My uncle’s voice cuts through the table. Cheery. Too loud.
I turn.
“We’re done with the trade deal,” I say
“There’s no reason for me to stay.”
He smiles. The kind that doesn’t reach the eyes.
“I know you want to leave. But think about it” he says “We just became partners with the Colombians. It’s rude to walk out on them.
