MasukDante’s POV Pasta. Normalcy. Home. The words echoed in my mind like a lifeline, pulling me back from the precipice the day had dragged me to. I pocketed the phone with a faint smile, the glow of Cassidy's message cutting through the lingering haze of tension that clung to the boardroom air. The city skyline outside the windows had shifted from midday glare to the soft amber of late afternoon, shadows lengthening like fingers reaching for the horizon. I gathered my things methodically—tablet into briefcase, notes folded with crisp precision—rebuilding the armor the meeting had momentarily dented. The day's surprises still rang in my ears, but they felt distant now, echoes from a vault I intended to keep sealed. I'd meant what I said in my resolve: focus on the future, on us.As I straightened my tie in the reflective glass, the door buzzed softly—Mara, my ever-efficient sentinel, poking her head in. "Mr. Ashford? The Forbes prep is ready—talking points emailed. Also, the auditor left
Dante's POV Her plea hung in the air, raw and exposed, the woman who'd once matched my ambition now laying it all bare, vulnerability twisting her features into something almost unrecognizable. Evelyn—fierce, unyielding Evelyn—begging like this? It was a sight that might have swayed me once, back when her fire had ignited mine, when we'd conquered deals and each other with equal ferocity. But now? It rang hollow, a performance born of loneliness rather than love. Her tears streamed unchecked, mascara smudging in dark rivulets down her porcelain cheeks, her grip on my jacket loosening as if the fight was draining out of her. The boardroom, with its panoramic views of the city I'd claimed as my kingdom, felt like a stage for this unwanted revival—a play I had no interest in reprising. I released her wrists gently but firmly, stepping back to create space, the cool air rushing in like a barrier. My heart pounded, not from desire, but from the surge of clarity cutting through the chaos
Dante’s POV Evelyn waited, as I knew she would.The boardroom door clicked shut behind the last departing executive, sealing us in a silence that felt heavier than the polished mahogany table between us. I didn't acknowledge her immediately, letting the quiet stretch like a taut wire, my eyes fixed on the tablet screen where charts and projections glowed in sterile blue light. The air hummed with the low drone of the ventilation system, carrying the faint remnants of coffee and cologne from the meeting, but beneath it all was her—jasmine and something sharper, ambition distilled into scent. Five years, and it still hit like a phantom limb, a reminder of nights tangled in sheets and strategies, of promises broken before they could fully form.She didn't move at first, just stood there at the edge of the table, her presence a gravitational pull I refused to orbit. But I could feel her eyes on me, that piercing green gaze that had once disarmed me in negotiations and bedrooms alike. Fin
Dante's POV “Board chair. Said it was precautionary—fresh eyes on the tech stack. The lead auditor is already in the room.” I nodded, jaw tightening, but kept my voice level. “Understood. Handle the Forbes prep; I’ll want talking points by 2:30.” “Of course.” She peeled off toward her desk, leaving me to enter the boardroom alone. The room smelled like polished wood and expensive coffee, the long mahogany table reflecting the skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the city like a declaration of dominance. My senior team was already seated—sharp minds, sharper instincts: Victoria from finance, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she tapped at her laptop; Marcus from ops, arms crossed, ever the skeptic; and Legal’s lead, Raj, flipping through a binder of contracts. All eyes tracked me as I took my place at the head of the table, the leather chair sinking under my weight with a whisper. “Let’s get started,” I said calmly, projecting the agenda onto the wall
Dante’s POV I waited until Cassidy was halfway up the steps before pulling away, the engine idling with a low, impatient growl that mirrored the reluctance tightening in my chest. Not because I needed to—but because some instinct in me, honed from years of reading boardrooms and battlefields of negotiation, wanted to make sure she didn’t turn back, didn’t hesitate, didn’t suddenly look small and fragile in the middle of her own life. She didn’t. She squared her shoulders, adjusted the strap of her bag with that determined flick of her wrist I’d come to adore, and disappeared into the current of students moving across campus like a river of backpacks and hurried conversations. Her hair caught the afternoon sun, a flash of gold amid the autumn leaves scattering on the lawn, and for a split second, I envied the simplicity of her world—lectures, debates, the pursuit of ideas without the cutthroat edges of mine.Strong. Resilient. Mine.Even when she didn’t feel like it, she pushed forwa
Cassidy’s POV When we finally stepped out of Dad’s room, the door clicking shut softly behind us, the sound felt heavier than it should have—like it marked the end of something sacred and fragile. I paused for half a second in the hallway, my hand still wrapped around Dante’s, my fingers curled into the warmth of his palm as if letting go might unravel whatever fragile steadiness I’d managed to build inside that room.I felt wrung out, but not hollow.Not shattered.Just… gently emptied, the way you feel after crying so hard there’s nothing left but quiet.Hope was dangerous. I knew that. It had teeth. It could turn on you without warning.But it walked beside me anyway, light-footed and stubborn, matching my steps down the long hospital corridor.The fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead. A gurney rattled past us somewhere behind. Nurses murmured in low, practiced tones. Life continuing—efficient, clinical, indifferent to how monumental every breath felt to me right now.Dante







