By midweek, Elena's suppliers were calling with hesitation in their voices. Contracts she had counted on were being reconsidered. Long-term partners suddenly needed time to review, and every delay, every second of doubt, carried Dante's shadow behind it.
Elena sat rigid behind her desk, listening as yet another supplier hedged. "You understand, Signora Rossi… It is not personal. We simply cannot afford to upset Signor Moretti. He is in the background now."
Her throat burned. "You think Rossi Textiles is already finished?"
There was silence on the line. Then, he muttered, "We hope not," before the call ended.
She lowered the phone slowly, hand trembling. The city skyline stared back at her through the glass, mocking and daring her to falter.
"You see?" Sofia fumed when Elena finally relayed the calls. They sat together in the corner of her office, exhaustion written across both their faces. "He is poisoning the well. He doesn't need to buy Rossi. He will starve it."
Elena pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes shut. "I know he is cutting deals behind the curtain. Suppliers think if they stay loyal to me, they will lose Moretti's business elsewhere."
Sofia's curls bounced as she shook her head. "And the board?"
Elena exhaled sharply. "Half of them would sell me out tomorrow if he asked. The rest are too frightened to act."
Sofia leaned forward, lowering her voice. "So what do we do?"
Elena straightened. "We fight. We give them no excuse to doubt me. I will draft a survival plan, and I will shove it down every one of their throats."
Her voice was steady, but the pulse in her neck told another story.
---
The next morning, Elena arrived to find Dante already in her building. He stood in the corridor with three members of her board, He looked perfectly at ease, speaking in low, persuasive tones. The sight of his hand brushing casually against the polished wood paneling, like a king inspecting his castle, ignited a fire in her veins.
"Dante." Her voice rang sharp down the hall. "Unless I have gone blind, this isn't Moretti Industries."
The directors shifted uneasily. Dante only smiled, unbothered. "I was just reminding your colleagues that business is about stability. And Rossi, at the moment, is anything but stable."
Elena's heels clicked like gunfire as she closed the distance. She stopped inches away, chin lifted. "Then let me remind you that this is my company. And the next time you conduct a sales pitch in my hallways, I will have security escort you out."
The silence crackled. Her directors looked between them like spectators at a boxing match.
Dante's smirk deepened. He leaned in, voice low enough for her ears alone. "Careful, Elena. Rage makes you beautiful, but it also makes you careless."
Her pulse spiked. Whether anger or the electric pull of his nearness caused it, she hated that her body betrayed her with heat she could not control. She stepped back, straightened sharply, dismissing the board members with a sharp wave. "Meeting's over. Get back to work."
They scattered gratefully, leaving her alone with the enemy.
"You really think I'm your biggest problem?" Dante murmured once the hall was empty.
"You are the problem," she hissed.
He tilted his head, studying her as though she were a riddle and a prize wrapped in one. "No. I'm the one keeping the wolves at bay. You're too proud to see it."
She stared at him, momentarily thrown. But before she could demand what he meant, he brushed past her, leaving the faint scent of cedar and arrogance lingering long after his departure.
---
That afternoon, Elena gathered her loyal executives in the boardroom. She laid out her vision, slash unnecessary overhead, modernize the Milan plant, and relaunch a bold new clothing line.
"We cut out the fat, invest in innovation, and prove we can still compete," she declared. "If Moretti thinks Rossi is a relic, we will show him we are a revolution."
The room filled with cautious nods, murmurs of agreement. For the first time in days, hope flickered.
After the meeting, Sofia squeezed her hand. "You sounded like a real general in there."
Elena smiled grimly. "Good. Because this is war."
---
At night, long after the office had emptied, Elena was still at her desk, poring over financial projections. The city outside glittered, mocking her fatigue. She didn't hear the door open until his voice filled the silence.
"You will burn yourself out before you even reach the battlefield."
Her head snapped up. Dante stood in the doorway, tie loosened, jacket slung carelessly over one arm. In the dim light, he looked less like a conqueror tonight, more like a man who had not slept either.
"Do you enjoy stalking me?" she shot back.
"I enjoy watching you fight," he said simply.
She blinked, thrown off balance. "Is that supposed to flatter me?"
"No. It's supposed to warn you." He stepped closer, eyes locking with hers. "Not everyone circling Rossi is me. There are others. Hungrier, dirtier. I've kept them out so far. But if you keep pushing me away, you won't see them coming."
Her heart hammered. She wanted to laugh, to call his bluff. But the gravity in his voice rooted her in place.
"Why should I believe you?" she whispered.
"Because," he said, leaning closer, his breath brushing her skin, "when they come, they won't give you the luxury of one year. They will tear Rossi apart in weeks."
The office was silent but for the pounding of her heart. His gaze held hers. Unyielding, fierce, and something else she could not name.
She swallowed hard. "Then tell me who they are."
Dante's lips curved in a shadow of a smile. "You will know soon enough."
And with that, he turned and left her office, leaving Elena trembling between fury, fear, and a spark of something far more dangerous and unexplained, a spark that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with him.