The Don Bows Only To His Curvy Crush Chapter 04
The Pool House, The Ceremony, The Keycard
Probably because Dante played it off so calmly, some of the guys that I worked with turned it into a running joke.
Most of it aimed at me.
“Bella, you’re only getting away with this because Dante is too classy to shut you down. Don’t push it.”
“Look in a mirror, girl. He’s got Bella Conti hanging off him. He’s not looking at you.”
Annabella Conti was Dante’s other assistant — but way more beautiful than I.
And her last name was Conti, which meant the old man had already floated her as a Family match.
Half assistant, half future daughter-in-law.
Two Bellas. One golden boy.
—
One afternoon, Annabella breezed into the office wing where I was filing his call log.
“Dante? Can you come out for a sec? I stopped by your mother’s place this morning — she asked me to bring you your good jacket.”
The whole floor lit up with catcalls.
I was crouched behind a filing cabinet in the hall, invisible, when I heard her voice drop sharp.
“And what the hell is up with that Marino girl you’ve got on staff? She won’t stop trailing after you. How does anyone have that little shame?”
Dante’s voice, low, annoyed. “Don’t start. She works for me. That’s it.”
The rest turned into white noise in my ears.
I clapped a hand over my mouth and ran.
I already knew Dante would never look at me.
Still, hearing it out loud, in his voice, in that low tone — that broke something.
—
After that, I ducked Dante. Every doorway, every hallway of the estate.
If he was in a room, I wasn’t.
I passed his coffee to another assistant. I left his mail with the housekeeper.
Which meant the employees lost their entertainment and they had to make new entertainment.
—
A weekend at the estate. Late July.
I was on my way to the pool house to rinse off after unloading a delivery, when Annabella’s little cousin stepped into my path.
“Hey — shower’s out down here. Boss said use the one upstairs in the pool house lounge.”
I didn’t think. I grabbed my towel and headed up.
I pushed the lounge door open — and walked straight into the bare back of a man pulling on a shirt.
Cut shoulders. A sliver of ink disappearing into his waistband.
I slammed my eyes shut. “Oh my God — I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here!”
He glanced over his shoulder, yanked the T-shirt down, and turned around.
Dante.
Right then the door exploded open behind me and half the crew poured in, laughing.
“Holy shit — Bella, you have got some nerve! Peeping on Dante getting changed?”
“Journal didn’t work, so now you’re trying to jump him? Damn, girl.”
I was shaking so hard my whole face went red.
“You’re lying! One of you told me the downstairs shower was broken — I only came up because—”
“Broken? I saw a girl walk in there two minutes ago. You’re full of it. You just wanted a look.”
“Honestly? I’m scared to change in front of her now. What if she gets hungry and comes for me next?”
The laughter got louder. And louder.
And Dante’s face got darker. And darker.
Until he finally exploded.
“Out.”
“All of you — get the hell out.”
I bolted before anyone could see me cry.
That was the last time I saw him up close.
I got sick a few weeks later. Bad enough my mother pulled me from estate work, sent me home.
The rest of my debt got paid down quietly, through channels I never asked about.
—
Then, months later, one of the girls I used to work with called me.
A gathering at the Moretti Manor. The old man was officially naming Dante his heir.
Every associate, every made man’s kid — expected to show. Rooms booked all weekend.
I got drunk, grabbed the wrong keycard out of my clutch and stumbled into the wrong room.
That night, I gave Dante, the man I’d been in love with for two years, the one thing I’d never given anyone.
My first.
When I woke up, I ran.
Dante flew back to Sicily a week later — the old man’s orders, “finish your training.”
Six years — not a single word between us.