Mine weren’t perfect, but I couldn’t imagine them dumping me at a relative’s house so they could jet-set around the world.
“Don’t be. My parents were right. It was for the best.” We stopped at the edge of the beach. “Don’t be fooled by their hospitality, Vivian. They fuss over me whenever they see me because they don’t see me often, and it makes them feel like they’re doing their job as parents. They’ll take us out to eat, buy us nice things and ask about our lives, but if you ask them to stick around during the hard times, they’re gone.”
“What about your brother? What’s his relationship with them?”
“Luca was an accident. I was planned because they needed an heir. My grandfather demanded it. But when my brother came along…taking care of two children was too much for my parents, and they bailed.”
“So your grandfather took over instead.”
“He was thrilled.” Dante’s dry tone returned. “My father disappointed him on the business front, but he could mold me into his perfect successor from a young age.”
And he had.
Dante was one of the most successful CEOs in the Fortune 500. He’d tripled the company’s profits since taking over, but at what cost?
“Let me guess. He took you to boardroom play dates and gave you cartoon explainers on the stock market?” I quipped, hoping to ease the tension lining his shoulders.
The empathetic part of me wanted to shift to a lighter topic; the selfish part wanted to dig deeper. This was the most insight I’d gotten into Dante’s background, and I worried one wrong word would cause him to shut down again.
Faint amusement ghosted through his eyes.
“Close. My grandfather ran his household the way he ran his business. He was the first, last, and only word on any subject. Everything operated by a strict set of rules, from our playtime hours to what hobbies Luca and I were allowed to pursue. I was seven when I took my first factory tour, ten when I started learning about contracts and negotiations.”
In other words, he’d lost his childhood to his grandfather’s ambitions.
A deep ache unfurled behind my ribs.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Dante said, correctly assessing my expression. “The Russo Group wouldn’t be where it is now if it weren’t for him and what he taught me.”
“There’s more to life than money and business,” I said softly.
“Not in our world.” A gentle breeze swept by, ruffling his hair. “People can join as many charities as they want, donate as much money as they want, but at the end of the day, it’s about the bottom line. Look at Tim and Arabella Creighton. They were once superstars in Manhattan society. Now Tim’s facing trial, and no one will touch Arabella with a ten-foot pole. All her supposed friends dropped her.”
Dante’s mouth twisted. “If you think any of the people who kiss my ass now will stick around if the company folded tomorrow, you’re sorely mistaken. The only languages they understand are money, power, and strength. Those that have it will do anything to keep it. Those who don’t will do anything to get it.”
“That’s a terrible way to go through life,” I said, even though I’d witnessed those scenarios play out enough times to know he was right.
“Some things make it better.”
My heart faltered, then picked up speed again.
Dante and I stood on a secluded stretch of beach, close enough to see the restaurant but far enough that its sounds and crowds didn’t touch us.
A fissure cleaved his stony mask, revealing a trace of weariness that tugged at my soul.
CEO Dante was all stern frowns and hard commands.
This Dante was more vulnerable. More human. I’d spotted glimpses of him before, but this was the first time I’d been in his presence for so long.
It felt like sinking into a warm bath after a long day in the rain.
“This wasn’t how I’d planned to spend our first day in Bali,” he said. “I promise family history lessons aren’t the norm here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a history lesson. But…” I switched to a more playful tone. “I want to learn more about this diving your father was talking about. I’ve never been to Bali before. What else is there to do?”
Dante’s shoulders relaxed. “Don’t bring up diving in front of my father, or he’ll talk your ear off,” he said as we started our walk back to the restaurant. We’d been gone for almost an hour; his parents must be wondering what happened to us. “To be fair, the island is one of the top diving destinations in the world. There are also some beautiful temples and a great art scene in Ubud…”
I half listened as he ran through the top activities in Bali. I was too distracted by his voice to pay attention to his words—deep and velvety, with a faint Italian accent that did unspeakable things to my insides.
I’d teased him about loving Kai’s British accent at Valhalla, but it was his I couldn’t get enough of.
Not just the voice, but the intelligence, loyalty, vulnerability and humor that lurked deep, deep beneath his grumpy surface.
Somewhere along the way, Dante Russo had morphed from a caricature of a rich, arrogant CEO into an actual human. One I liked, for the most part.
It was awful.
No matter what happened at Valhalla, or how much Dante shared about himself, I couldn’t delude myself into thinking our relationship was anything more than what it was. That was a surefire way to a broken heart, and I already had enough broken things in my life.
Dante stepped closer to me to let another couple pass. Our fingers brushed, and my traitorous heart leaped into my throat.
This is just business, I reminded myself.
If I said it enough times, maybe I’d believe it.
Vivian
Over the next three days, Dante and his parents took me on a crash tour of Bali. We scuba-dived in Nusa Penida, trekked to waterfalls in Munduk, and visited temples in Gianyar. The Russos had a private driver and boat, which made traversing the island easier.
By the time Thanksgiving night rolled around, I’d tanned into a golden brown and forgotten all about the pile of work waiting for me in New York. Even Dante frowned less.