The Don Bows Only To His Curvy Crush Chapter 02
The Cigarette and the Card
The mocking laughter in the room dies instantly.
I turn around, stunned.
Six years have passed, but Dante Moretti’s face still cuts like a blade.
Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. Every small movement pulls the air toward him.
But I know better.
The reckless young man is gone. In his place — something quieter. Heavier. Dangerous.
“Heard the script had teeth,” he says. “But some of it hit too close to certain names. That’s why it’s stuck in review.”
I nod, too fast, too eager.
“Yes. That’s the one. My studio already offered to cut the sensitive scenes. But we can’t get a straight answer on approval.”
The implication couldn’t be clearer. My fingers curl into my palm.
Dante stands, walks over then stops in front of me.
He’s six-foot-three, and looking down at me from that height, he takes up the whole damn room.
“You’ve got the wrong man. That’s not my table.”
He turns to leave.
For a split second — I don’t think. My hand shoots out and grabs his sleeve.
“They say Don Moretti can move mountains. Please — could you… find a way?”
He stops. His eyes drift, slow, to the hand on his arm.
I let go, cheeks burning, and force the words out.
“I know you don’t need anything from someone like me. But if you help me with this — whatever you want, later, I’ll do my best to give it to you.”
“Whatever I want.”
His gaze slides up to my face. Unreadable.
A few seconds of silence. Then his mouth curls, cruel and amused.
“What I want, Miss Rose — I doubt you can afford.”
He walks out.
—
Down in the parking garage, Marnie flies out of the car.
“Well? Did you see him? What did he say?”
I shake my head.
She sighs and pats my shoulder. “Fine. It’s what we expected.”
“Word is, last year an Oscar winner tried to buy him a drink and he wouldn’t even lift his glass.”
“I only sent you in because — well. You are pretty. Thought maybe you had a shot.”
She pushes me into the car, curious.
“Wait — you seriously didn’t know Dante Moretti before? He’s probably the youngest Don in American history. Rules the Morettis with an iron fist.”
My knee freezes halfway into the car. I sit down like nothing happened.
Through the door, Marnie’s watching me a little too closely.
Before she can ask again, I cut her off.
“Marnie, I swear I didn’t know him. Maybe he got work done recently.”
“You know how people like him like to change their faces every once in a while. It’s pretty normal these days.”
The second the words leave my mouth, she starts violently coughing and shoots me a shut-your-mouth glare.
I lean out the door, confused.
Behind our car, a deep blue Rolls-Royce has appeared out of nowhere.
The back window rolls down. Dante’s face sits half in shadow, expression unreadable.
His driver steps out and hands me a black keycard, embossed in gold.
“Miss Rose. Don Moretti requests the pleasure of your company for dinner tomorrow evening. This address.”
“He also asked me to tell you…” The man’s mouth twitches. “You can inspect him personally, and confirm whether he’s had any work done.”
I almost choke on my own breathe.