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We’ve been here for about half an hour. Although we’ve messaged each other on the phone over the last few days, we haven’t said much about that contract of ours.
When I brought it up to thank him, he said we’d talk about it when we next saw each other—which is now.
We finish drinking the wine the waiter poured us, and when Dante sets his glass down and looks at me, I sense it’s time to dive into the conversation I’ve been dying to have.
There are so many changes for us. Changes I haven’t truly thought about because of their vast nature.
Like the fact that I now own my father’s fleet of law firms and Dante is the new Pakhan of his Bratva.
“How was seeing your father?” He straightens and regards me with adoration. I love it when he looks at me like this. As if he’s tuned out the rest of the world and all he can see is me.
“It was hard, but that was to be expected.”
“That was always going to be hard.”
“I still can’t believe all he’s done. I’m so ashamed.” My heart squeezes with that sting of embarrassment.
“This too shall pass.” His voice is as poetic as the saying. “But I’m sorry you had to go through so much. Especially after everything you’ve already been through.”
“Thank you for being there for me. You didn’t have to do what you did.”
“I did it, because of you.”
“I am grateful.”
His smile brightens. “I know you are.”
I look him over and try to determine how he’s feeling. To look at him, he seems fine, but I know there’s no way he is. He hasn’t spoken about how he’s been dealing with the truth. It couldn’t have been easy to discover his uncle’s treachery.
Dante gave me the full rundown of the parts I missed, but that was it. He never mentioned what the truth did to him.
“How are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m here. When I’m with you, I’m with you. Outside of that, I’m taking one day at a time. But I’ll get there. It’s just to have that closure and answers. Now I can move on. You must, too.”
“I will. As hard as it is right now, I know I need to.”
“Exactly.” His expression softens, becoming more open. “So, what does owning your father’s firms and assets feel like?”
I’d told him Dad gave me everything. “I don’t know. I’ve already gotten offers to either merge with a few other companies or sell the business. I’m considering it. The stigma attached to my name now isn’t good. There aren’t many clients who will want to stay with us. Many have left already. It’s understandable. You can’t blame people for losing trust.”
“Don’t sell it.” He shakes his head.
I’m surprised by his answer. “Really? Dante, what do I know about running a fleet of law firms?” I laugh at the thought.
“That’s your legacy. Of course, things might be rough for a while, but all you need is some good PR and damage control. I can help you with that.”
I study his handsome face and appreciate his kindness. “Thank you. Does that mean I still get to see you? Because I don’t think I can leave you alone, even if you ask me to.” I borrow his famous words. The words that set this thing between us in motion.
He laughs, then sits forward to take my hand. “I hope you don’t, Printsessa. Because you’re kind of stuck with me for life.”
Joy bubbles within me at that answer. “I like the idea of being stuck with you for life.”
“Good, which brings me to the contract. I returned it to you because I realized it was one of the steps I needed to take to fix things for us. I was thinking of a different sort of contract.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “What kind of contract?”
He releases my hand and reaches into his pocket to pull out a little jewelry box—a ring box.
