The Lost Ricci: Heir Back from the Dead

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Morning Sunshine restaurant, casting golden streaks across Dante Moretti's table. He sat alone, nursing a cup of black coffee he couldn't afford to pair with breakfast. His stomach growled in protest, but Giulia had rushed him out of their apartment at dawn, insisting he skip his meal. Something about needing the kitchen for party preparations—her birthday was today, after all.

His phone buzzed against the laminated table. An email notification. Dante's heart sank as he read the subject line: "Contract Termination Notice - Golden Fingers Inc."

"Effective immediately..." The words blurred together as his hands trembled. Two years of dedication, late nights, and swallowed pride—gone in a clinical, two-paragraph email.

Dante absently touched the Rolex on his wrist, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier. It was the only thing of real value he owned, a gift from Giulia during better times. Or what he'd thought were better times.

He needed to clear his head. Standing abruptly, Dante left a few crumpled bills on the table and headed toward La Clotier, the modest clothing store where he worked as manager. The position barely paid enough to cover his share of expenses, but it was honest work. His old mentor, Mr. Romano, had taught him that—don't live beyond your means, especially when times get hard.

The advice echoed hollowly now.

By evening, Dante stood outside the Bronson family mansion, his beaten Honda Civic looking pathetically out of place among the luxury vehicles lining the circular driveway. His breath caught when he spotted the sleek black Audi—he'd recognize that car anywhere. It belonged to Leonardo Greco, Giulia's ex-boyfriend and the man her family had always wished she'd married instead.

Dante's jaw tightened as he approached the front door. Through the windows, he could see the party in full swing—champagne flutes, designer dresses, and the kind of casual wealth that had always made him feel like an intruder in his own marriage.

Inside, the marble foyer gleamed under crystal chandeliers. Dante smoothed down his off-the-rack suit jacket, painfully aware of how it contrasted with the tailored elegance surrounding him.

"Dante!" Marcus Sullivan, one of the other sons-in-law, approached with a condescending smile. "Surprised to see you here. Thought you'd be too busy with... what is it you do again? Retail management?"

"Something like that," Dante replied evenly, scanning the crowd for Giulia.

"Well, thank God I landed that senior position at Hartman & Associates," Marcus continued, not waiting for a response. "Six figures, full benefits. You should really consider pivoting into corporate, Dante. This small-business stuff won't get you anywhere."

Before Dante could respond, James Chen joined them, swirling bourbon in a crystal tumbler. "Marcus, leave the poor guy alone. Not everyone has connections. Some people actually have to work their way up from the bottom." He shot Dante a pitying look that felt worse than Marcus's mockery. "No shame in that, buddy."

Dante's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Excuse me. I need to find my wife."

He pushed through the crowd, nodding politely at familiar faces that looked through him rather than at him. The Bronsons had never hidden their disappointment in Giulia's choice of husband—a man with more ambition than achievements, more dreams than dollars.

Then he saw them.

Giulia stood near the grand staircase, radiant in a emerald dress that probably cost more than his monthly salary. But she wasn't alone. Leonardo Greco stood beside her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. As Dante watched, frozen in disbelief, Giulia turned to Leonardo with a smile—the kind of smile she used to give Dante—and kissed him.

Not a friendly peck. A real kiss. The kind that announced ownership.

Dante's world tilted. The champagne glass in his hand slipped, shattering against the marble floor. The sharp sound cut through the ambient conversation, drawing eyes toward him. But Giulia didn't even glance his way. She simply continued talking to Leonardo as if nothing had happened.

"Dante." Mrs. Lucia Bronson's voice was cold as she materialized beside him, her expression one of barely concealed distaste. "I didn't expect you to actually show up."

"It's my wife's birthday," Dante said, his voice hoarse. "Why wouldn't I—" He stopped, his eyes fixed on Giulia and Leonardo. "What the hell is going on?"

Lucia's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Oh, darling. Did no one tell you? How inconsiderate." Her tone suggested she found the situation amusing rather than unfortunate. "Leonardo Greco is the CEO of Golden Fingers. Surely you've heard of him?"