The unstoppable Dante

Mia's lips curled into a slight, almost sad smile as she watched Lucas kneel before her, the ring sparkling in the light. She took a long, quiet breath before nodding slowly, as if she had made a decision long ago.

"Yes," Mia said softly, her voice not as confident as she tried to make it seem. "I'll marry you."

Dante's heart dropped, his entire body seeming to freeze as he stared at her, feeling like the air was being sucked out of the room. The words hit him harder than he could've prepared for. His mind raced, a thousand thoughts flooding his chest, but they all collided into a single, painful truth: she was settling for him.

"Mia... please," Dante said, his voice cracking slightly. He reached out, but she pulled back, her gaze hardening. "I know you're not happy. This isn't what you wanted. You can't pretend it is. You don't have to do this, Mia."

She finally looked up at him, her eyes cold. Her lips parted, and for the first time, she spoke with real bitterness.

"Oh, I don't?" Her laugh was low, almost mocking. "You think I'm going to listen to you? You, a poor loser, who's working here serving drinks?" She gestured around the restaurant with a disdainful flick of her wrist. "I'm better off with someone who actually has something to offer—someone who can give me what I deserve."

Dante felt his chest tighten, the words stinging deeper than he could explain. His voice was barely a whisper as he tried again. "Mia, please... It's not too late. You can still say no. You don't have to marry him. You deserve so much more than this."

Her expression softened for a brief second, but it was quickly replaced with that same sharp edge. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "And who are you to tell me what I deserve?" she shot back, her voice venomous. "What could you possibly know? You're the one who's still stuck in this miserable job. What, you think I should wait around for some miracle where you magically become someone important? I don't have time for that."

Dante's breath caught in his throat, but before he could respond, a deep voice interrupted them.

The chef, approached the table. His face was polite, but his eyes were filled with a knowing sympathy as he bowed slightly to Lucas. "I apologize, sir. I was unaware that there would be trouble." His tone was respectful.

Lucas grinned widely, basking in the attention. "No problem. This... this loser here," Lucas motioned to Dante, still kneeling at Mia's feet, "is harassing my wife. I don't know what kind of disrespect he thinks he can get away with, but it's quite clear he doesn't belong here."

The chef's face tightened. "I should have known," he said, eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at Dante. "I knew having him here would cause trouble."

Mia's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she watched the chef.

"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience," the chef continued, turning his gaze back to Lucas. "I will call security to handle this situation immediately."

The door to the private room opened, and a voice rang out. "What is going on here? "

Dante turned at the sound, his heart leaping into his throat. Standing in the doorway was a tall, well-dressed man, his presence commanding the room even before he spoke. Lucas froze, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"Dad?" Lucas said, his voice tinged with confusion and surprise.

Dante's stomach dropped. He hadn't expected this. Standing before him was none other than Marley Sinclair—his uncle, a man he hadn't seen in years, yet one he knew very well. Marley's sharp, gray eyes locked onto Dante, and for a moment, it seemed as though time itself paused.

"Dante..." Marley's voice softened as he stepped forward, his expression changing from a businesslike demeanor to something more familiar—concern, even warmth. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Dante in an embrace that felt like a shield from the chaos around him.

"Come with me," Marley said, pulling away and giving Dante a reassuring nod. "We'll talk. There's a suite already booked."

Dante hesitated for a second, his mind swirling with questions. How had Marley even known he was here? And why was he here, of all places? But he had no choice. His uncle was already guiding him through the room, and with a quick glance at Lucas, who stood frozen, mouth agape, Dante followed Marley out of the restaurant.

Inside the suite, the atmosphere was calm, though Dante could feel the tension still hanging in the air.

The soft clink of glasses filled the silence as Lucas poured champagne for him and Marley, then goes to stand by the door, didn't seem pleased by the turn of events.

His eyes flickered between Dante and Marley before his lips curled into a tight smile. "I need to talk to you,dad" he said, clearly expecting to take control of the situation. But Marley wasn't having it.

"Lucas, go out to my car," Marley said, his voice authoritative. "Bring in the package from the trunk."

Lucas hesitated, clearly irritated by the command. "What? You want me to run errands for you now?"

"Do it," Marley repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lucas glared at both of them but eventually stormed out of the room, muttering under his breath.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Marley turned his attention to Dante, his face softening. "Where have you been, kid?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "Been a while, huh?"

Dante wasn't sure whether he was glad to see him or not.

"I've been around... working," Dante replied, his voice strained as he tried to hide the confusion gnawing at him. "Just... trying to get by."

Marley chuckled, pulling out two phones from his pocket and dropping them onto the table. "I figured as much. It's tough out there. But you've got to stop worrying about making ends meet. Come work with me. I've got some connections that could really help you out."

Dante glanced at the phones, his mind still racing. As Marley continued speaking, Dante's eyes wandered, still unsure of how to respond. But before he could speak, one of Marley's phones began ringing.

"Excuse me," Marley muttered, standing up and walking out onto the balcony. "I'll take this. Make yourself comfortable."

Dante was left alone in the suite, his hands shaking slightly as he picked up the glass of champagne Marley had poured for him. His mind was far gone, finally he's suffering is over, he can finally get a job and start a good life.

His gaze wandered to the phone on the table, one of Marley's devices. He noticed an email notification from the family doctor. Dante's pulse quickened as he clicked on the message.

The first thing he saw was the name—Dr. Mark Williams. But it wasn't the name that made his blood run cold. It was the contents of the email.

The messages between Marley and Dr. Williams were damning. The doctor had been involved in the death of Dante's mother. They had been working together, planning her murder. Marley had known all along. His own flesh and blood was complicit in the one thing that had torn Dante's life apart.

His heart felt like it was shattering. How could Marley—his uncle—do this to him? To his mother? face.

Dante's fingers trembled as he scrolled through the conversation. The doctor had discussed how they had "taken care of her" and how it had been "necessary for the bigger plan." Marley's responses were cold, calculating—there was no remorse, no sense of family.

Dante's mind raced. Why? Why had they done this? What could Marley possibly have to gain from killing his mother?