Chapter 2 - The Morning Dante Moretti Said My Name
The elevator ride to Dante Moretti’s office lasted forty-two seconds.
Sophia counted every one.
By the time the doors opened, she had imagined six different versions of being fired.
Most involved professional humiliation.
One inexplicably involved security escorting her through the lobby while everyone applauded.
None prepared her for what actually happened.
Dante was standing beside his windows with a cup of coffee.
“Sit.”
Sophia sat.
He remained standing.
That felt unfair.
“I assume,” she began carefully, “this is about last night.”
“It isn’t.”
Sophia blinked.
“It isn’t?”
“No.”
Relief arrived too quickly.
Then suspicion followed.
Dante crossed toward his desk and pushed a folder toward her.
“The gala seating plan was changed at two fourteen this morning.”
Sophia opened it.
Thirty-seven names had been moved.
Three major donors had disappeared entirely.
The Italian cultural commissioner had somehow been seated beside a businessman currently suing him.
Sophia’s professional instincts immediately replaced embarrassment.
“I didn’t authorize this.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
“How?”
“Because you’re obsessive.”
Sophia stared.
Dante calmly drank his coffee.
“I prefer thorough.”
“You color-coded the emergency seating chart.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves everything.”
Against all common sense, Sophia smiled.
Dante nearly did too.
Then his expression hardened.
“Someone accessed the system using your credentials.”
The smile vanished.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Sophia leaned forward.
“Are you accusing me?”
“If I were accusing you, this conversation would sound very different.”
Something in his tone suggested that was absolutely true.
“Then what do you want from me?”
“To fix it.”
“I can do that.”
“And find out who changed it.”
Sophia hesitated.
“That sounds less like event planning.”
“It is.”
“Then why me?”
Dante studied her.
“Because whoever did this expected us to blame you.”
The words landed differently.
Sophia looked down at the pages.
Someone had not simply sabotaged the gala.
Someone had chosen her.
“Why?”
“That,” Dante said, “is what I want to know.”
He walked around the desk.
“You’ll report directly to me until the gala ends.”
Sophia almost laughed.
“Is that punishment?”
His eyes flickered with amusement.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
She stood.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Here it came.
Poster.
Kiss.
Career extinction.
Dante’s voice lowered.
“Your explanation last night was terrible.”
Sophia stared at him.
Then he turned toward the window as though the conversation were finished.
Sophia walked toward the door.
Her hand reached the handle.
“Sophia.”
She froze.
“Yes?”
“Next time you check promotional material…”
She slowly looked over her shoulder.
Dante finally smiled.
“Use your hands.”
Sophia escaped.
She was halfway to the elevator when her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph filled the screen.
Sophia kissing Dante’s poster.
Perfect angle.
Perfect lighting.
Impossible mistake.
Below it were six words.
Stay away from Dante Moretti. Or else.
Sophia stopped moving.
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
Behind her, Dante’s office door opened.
He saw her face.
“What happened?”
Sophia considered lying.
Then she looked at the photograph again.
Someone had been watching her.
Someone had followed her closely enough to know exactly where to frighten her.
She handed Dante the phone.
He read the message.
Whatever warmth had existed in his expression disappeared instantly.
His jaw tightened.
“Luca.”
The security chief appeared almost immediately.
Dante gave him the phone.
“Trace it.”
Luca nodded.
Sophia folded her arms.
“I don’t need security.”
Dante looked at her.
“You have received one threat in the last thirty seconds.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow you’ve already decided you don’t need protection.”
“I’m trying to avoid overreacting.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“You’re trying not to appear afraid.”
Sophia hated how accurately he said it.
Dante stepped closer.
“Those are not the same thing.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Luca returned.
“Disposable number. No registration.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“Check every camera covering the exhibition hall between ten and midnight.”
“We already are.”
Sophia took back her phone.
“Someone wants me to resign.”
“Possibly.”
“Then I’m not resigning.”
Dante looked surprised.
“What?”
Sophia slipped the phone into her bag.
“If I leave because someone sends me a creepy photograph, they win.”
“Sometimes staying alive matters more than winning.”
“And sometimes letting bullies decide your life guarantees they never stop.”
Something passed through his face.
Recognition, perhaps.
“That sounds personal.”
“It is.”
She lifted the seating folder.
“I have work.”
Dante caught her arm lightly before she could turn.
The contact lasted only a second.
Still, Sophia felt it.
His voice became low.
“You don’t go anywhere alone until I know who sent that message.”
Sophia raised her chin.
“You’re not my father.”
“No.”
Those dark eyes stayed on hers.
“I’m the reason someone just threatened you.”
That silenced her.
Then Dante released her.
Sophia returned downstairs.
But the day had changed.
Every reflection in the glass made her look twice.
Every stranger seemed to linger too long.
Every sound behind her made her shoulders tighten.
At three thirty, she found something beneath the stack of revised seating cards on her desk.
An ivory envelope.
No stamp.
No name.
Inside was a single black card.
Four words had been written across it.
You should have listened.
And attached to the card was a tiny silver key.
Sophia stared at it.
She had no idea what it opened.
But somebody clearly expected her to find out.
May you like
And across the building, Dante Moretti was about to discover that the sabotage surrounding his gala had started long before Sophia ever kissed a poster.
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