Dante caught his fist in midair. His fingers closed around Matteo's knuckles the way a man catches a tennis ball tossed by a child. Effortless. Almost gentle. Then he pushed.One single push.Matteo's body launched backward as if a truck had nudged him in the chest. He flew across the polished marble floor, arms flailing wildly, and crashed directly into the massive dessert table positioned against the far wall. The table buckled under the impact.An enormous three tier chocolate cake collapsed across his chest. Crystal bowls of tiramisu shattered around him, sending custard and cream flying across his charcoal suit and into his hair. A silver platter of panna cotta slid off the edge and landed directly on his lap.The silence that followed lasted exactly two seconds.Then a young heir at the corner table let out a snort he could not contain. Another one pressed his fist against his mouth, shoulders shaking.A woman near the champagne station turned away completely, her entire body tr

Dante's attention had already moved elsewhere. His eyes swept across the far corner of the banquet hall, following a subtle movement near the service corridor.An older man in a dark grey suit was quietly sliding a leather document folder into his jacket pocket.As the folder turned in his hands, a symbol on the corner of one of the pages caught the light for just a fraction of a second.Black. Angular. Burned into the paper like a brand.Identical to the mark on the dead assassin's wrist.Dante's entire body went still. His eyes narrowed. Every instinct Mars had burned into his nervous system fired simultaneously, flooding his awareness with sharp, predatory focus.The older man felt the gaze. His head turned slowly, and for one brief moment, his eyes met Dante's across the crowded room. There was no panic in his expression.No fear. Just a cold, calculating awareness that said he knew exactly who Dante was and had been watching him all evening.Then the man turned and walked calmly

"Significant authority." The heir repeated the words slowly, savoring each syllable like expensive wine. He leaned toward his companions and dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "Translation: she lets him answer the phone and sign for packages. Somebody get this man a name tag before he starts believing his own introduction."The entire section of the bar rippled with cruel, unrestrained laughter. Luca's face burned red from his collar to his hairline. He gripped his glass so tightly the stem nearly snapped.Before Luca could respond, the entrance doors opened and the atmosphere inside the Velvet Atrium shifted like weather changing before a storm.Dante walked in.He wore a simple dark jacket over a white shirt, no tie, no cufflinks, no watch. The same plain, unadorned appearance he had carried everywhere since the divorce. But something about the way he moved through the room made people stop mid conversation and turn their heads.The heir in burgundy straightened immediately. His

"Someone should tell Ginevra her little puppy just embarrassed himself in front of the entire city." The woman in pearl earrings shook her head with the same pitying expression she had used on Luca earlier, except now it cut twice as deep because he knew exactly how it felt from the receiving end."Professional partner." One of the younger heirs repeated Luca's earlier words in a mocking falsetto, sending his entire table into fresh waves of laughter. "The professional partner just got professionally humiliated."Luca's face went from red to white to a shade of grey that made him look physically ill. His hands dropped slowly to his sides. His carefully constructed confidence, the armor he had built from Ginevra's trust and Dante's supposed weakness, suddenly felt paper thin.He looked at Dante across the room. Dante was not laughing. He was not smiling. He was not even looking in Luca's direction. He stood beside Vittorio, listening to an introduction with the quiet, unbothered calm o

The oldest man at the table, a thin, silver haired figure named Enzo Carducci, looked at Luca over the rim of his reading glasses with the kind of expression a professor gives a student who has wandered into the wrong lecture hall."Ferrero." Enzo's voice was dry and precise. "I do not recognize the name. Which family?""I am not from a traditional business family." Luca sat down with careful poise, folding his hands on the table. "But I have spent significant time inside the Moretti corporate structure and I have direct knowledge of several ongoing market strategies that I believe would be relevant to your current discussion.""He is Ginevra's assistant." One of the younger heirs whispered loudly enough for the entire table to hear. Three of the older businessmen exchanged amused glances.Luca's jaw tightened but he pressed forward. "The development project you are discussing involves waterfront property acquisition in the southern district. I reviewed similar proposals inside Ginevr