Chapter 14–Jealousy
Dante My phone buzzed for the fihh time that morning, a sharp intrusion into the silence of my office. I ignored it, beeping my focus on the quarterly financial reports splayed on on the sleek, dark wood desk in front of me. Rows of numbers painted a picture of growth, expansion, and dominance–everything I’d worked for. Everything I’d built
But none of it could drown out the image that had been burned into my mind.
one else
Her bareback stretched across that goddamn canvas, her hair cascading in clark waves, her body caughn in a moment of vulnerability that no one should have seen. Mark Sullivan’s audacity to expose something so intimate, so raw–made my blood boil.
I’d done everything I could to control the situation. I’d bought out nearly every ticket for the exhibition, but it didn’t matter. The painting had already made its counds on social media, splashed across the feeds of every art enthusiast critic, and wannabe socialite in the city. It was everywhere. And no amount of money or power could undo that.
1ightened my grip on the Montblanc pen in my hand until 1 heard the faini creak of plastic under strain. Calm. I needed to stay calm. I couldn’t let my temper dictate my salons–not now, not with the election looming and the Roman empire watching my every move.
The door to my office opened slightly, and Marco, my head of security, stepped aside. His presence was a constant in my life, a silent shadow who ensured everything ran smoothly in the darker corner of my world.
“You’ve got a meeting with the city planning committee in twenty minutes,” Marco said, his voice calm and measured “And the lawyers just sent over the revised harbor contracts.
I nodded, not looking up. “Anything else?”
He hesitated, which was unusual. Marco never heated.
“Spit iron,” 1 said, my tone sharper than imended
“It’s about the painting,” he said. “The media coverage is escalating. Some of the tabloids are making insinuations about the timing of the engagement and the exhibition
“Let them inte.” I said coldly. They’re wilures. It’s what they do.”
“And Sullwan Marco asked, his woser dropping.
That name was like a spark to dry kindling. My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to keep my voce level. “We’ll deal with him when the time is
right.”
Marco Hodded and left without another word, the door clicking shut softly belire hom
I leaned back in my chair, the tension in my chest refusing to ease. Mark Sullivan. The man was a thorn in my side, a ghost from Lucia’s past that refused to soy buried And the worst part! He wasn’t just a threat to my control over the narrative surrounding my engagement he was a threat to my control over myself.
Because every time I thought of him, I thought of her. Of the way she’d looked at that painting in the gallery. Of the vulnerability in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide. And it unfuriated me that someone else had seen that side of her, had captured it so perfectly.
I didn’t have une for this. Not today. Not ever. I was Dante Romuno–CEO, hear to the Romano empire, and the next mayor of this city. My life was built on control, precision, and calculated moves. And yet, here I was, lening a goddamn artist and an old painting unbalance me.
*Focus,” I told myself.
1 placed the pen down deliberately and stood, moving to the massive floor–to–ceiling window that overlooked the city. By city. The skyline gleamed in the sunlight, a testament to the power I wielded and the empire I’d built. But even this view, one that usually grounded me, couldn’t silence the storm brewing inside.
“Elena” I called out, my
voice carrying through the intercom on my desk.
Moments later, my assistant stepped in her impeccable pencil skirt and sharp blouse reflecting the professionalism 1 demanded from everyone
around me.“Yes, Mr. Romano?”
“Reschedule my lunch meeting with the investors,” I said, turning to face her. “And have the PR team prepare a statement regarding the painting. Something that damises the tabloids insinuations without giving them more fuel.”
Elena nodded, making notes on her tablet. “Understood Anything else!”
I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head. “That’s all.”
She left quietly, and I returned to my desk, forcing myself to dive into the work that demanded my attention. Contracts needed signing. Deals needed finalizing Every decision I made today would ripple through the Romano empire, affecting hundreds of lives and millions of dollars. This was what mattered. This was what I needed to focus on.
And yet, even as I reviewed the latest harbor expansion proposal, her face kept intruding on my thoughts. The way her lips had parted slightly when she’d looked at that painting. The way her eyes had softened, just for a moment, betraying the vulnerabday she tried so hard to hide.
Í slammed the folder shut, the sound echoing through the office Calm. I needed to stay calm. This was just a distraction. A temporary lapse in focus,
Nothing more
12:57
Chapter 14–Jealousy
The door opened agam, and Elena stepped in her expression unusually hesitant. “Mr. Romano, there’s something you should know.”
I glanced up, frowning. “““What is it?”
“Lucia met with Mark Sullivan this morning.”
The words ha me like a punch to the gu. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. “What did you just say!”
“She met him at the Petersen Gallery Elena continued her voice steady despite the storm brewing in my eyes. “It was brief, but…”
I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. My mind was already spinning, a million scenos flashing through my head. What had they talked abour What had he said to her! And why the hell had she gone to see him at all?
“Do you have confirmation?” I asked, my voior cold and sharp as icc
“Yes, sir,” the replied “Marco’s team confirmed it.”
The anger flared up so fast, so hot, that I barely managed to keep it contained “Cancel my next meeting.” I said, my voice low and deadly calm
“Sir-
““Cancelic” Esnapped, rising from my chair. “And how the car brought around. Now.”
Elena nodded quickly and disappeared from the room. I grabbed my suit jacket and shrugged it on, my movements sharp and precise. Rationally, knew I needed to stay calm. I needed to approach this situation with the sune level–headedness than had bait my empare and secured my family’s position. But rationality was in short supply today.
Because Luria Valentini was mine. And no one–not Mark Sullivan, not anyone was g
–was going to take her away from me.
The drive to the Petersen Gallery felt like an eternity. Marcos in the passenger sex, his presence a silem reassurance, but it did little to quell the storm raging inside me. The city blurred past in a haze of steel and glass, the familiar skyline doing nothing to ground me.
What’s your plan” Maren asked finally, his voice calm as ever
“To remind Sullivan exactly where he stands,” I said, my tone cold and resolute.
Marco didn’t respond, but I could feel his eyes on me, assessing calculating. He’d been with me long enough to know that when it came to Lasia, my
www.control was tenuous al best.
By the time we pulled up to the gallery. I was a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap. I stepped out of the car, ignoring th passersby. My tailored suit and commanding presence alwayuudnew attention, but today I didn’t care.
the curious glances from
I walked into the gallery, my polished kather shoes clicking against the marble floor. The air was filled with the quiet hum of conversation and the soft strains of classical music, but all of it faded into the background as Escanned the room.
And the 1cw them.
Lucia and Mark stood near the pointing, their figures schouetted against the massive canvas. She was wearing a navy dress that bugged her curves in all the right places her dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She looked stamming, as always. And Mark Mark looked like lie belonged in a goddamn magazie spread his perfectly tailored suit and confident posture a sharp contrast to the suniggling art I’d imagined.
Telenched my jaw, my hands curling mo litis at my sides. I expected anger, jealousy, even betrayal. But what I hadn’t expected was the sharp sting of insecurity. Because for all my power, all my access, Mark Sullivan represented something I could never be for Lucia–a simpler. Ineer version of
love.
And that terrified me.
I crossed the room in a few long strides, my presence cunting through the gallery’s subdued atmosphere like a blade. Lucia barned first, her eyes widening as she saw me. Mark followed a moment later, his expression shifting from surprise tu something sharper.
“From what?” I said, my voice cutting through the air like a whip: “What exactly were you planning to protect her from. Sullivan?”
