Chapter 21
Dante
I called my staff to prepare the limo for our arrival at the Pierre Gagnaire à Seoul for lunch. Gaspard was in the mood for French cuisine, and I was sure Maya would enjoy the dishes they had there. I’d already forgiven Gaspard for not keeping an eye on Maya when she’d decided to come to my room. I couldn’t blame him since he was sleeping at the time. I just hoped she’d never try something like that again. As attractive and forthcoming as she was, I was ready to give my heart to Isabella.
Gaspard, in his custom-made two-button Kiton K-50 suit, was waiting by the door with the hotel manager, having a conversation in Korean. I was standing in the hallway when I suddenly laid eyes on Maya in the elevator lobby. She was in a forest-green sleeveless V-neck dress made of polyester. It displayed every bit of her curves, and her cleavage was prominent. Gaspard’s eyes widened when he saw her. Isabella, on the other hand, was in jeans and a T-shirt just as I was. It seemed as if Gaspard and Maya might have overdressed for the occasion.
“Hello, Dante,” Isabella said as they approached us. Her smile almost made me weak in the knees. After last night, my passion for her had grown more intense.
“Well, it looks like you and I are dressed to impress,” I said jokingly.
“Sir, I thought we are going to the Pierre Gagnaire à Seoul for some Korean-French cuisine, yet you and Isabella are dressed as if you’re going hiking,” said Gaspard.
“Yes, but I remembered Isabella mentioning to Maya that aside from her business attire, all she brought to wear was jeans and T-shirts, so I didn’t want her to feel left out. You and Maya seem to be well dressed enough, so why don’t you two proceed over to the Pierre? Isabella and I will head elsewhere.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said Isabella, much to my delight. I could see the displeasure on Maya’s face. She was so concerned with what we were doing that she gave the most visible signs of annoyance at my suggestion. I was sure Isabella would fill her in on anything she wanted to know later on. The chauffeur approached Gaspard, who then signaled to Maya.
“Where are you two going to eat? Why don’t we all eat together so we can discuss the operating budget in a few of our regional offices?” asked Maya.
Her pretenses for trying to accompany us were not lost on Isabella and me. She’d done enough damage, and the last thing I wanted was to have lunch with her. Before I could suggest otherwise, Isabella pulled her aside.
“Go with Gaspard,” she said bluntly.
Maya seemed to be taken aback. “Something is suspicious with the way Dante acts toward you. I think he does have feelings for you, but he’s just trying to hide them from us. Let’s all eat together so I can pull the information from him,” Maya whispered, unable to realize I could hear her every word.
“You’re so damn nosy, Maya. Go with Gaspard and leave us alone, please. You’ve dressed for it anyway,” Isabella said as if it were an order.
“We’re going to be late for our reservation. We should head out now,” said Gaspard. I gave him a slight grin and nodded.
Maya sighed. “Fine. Let’s go, Gaspard.” Everyone smiled with the exception of Maya. My only concern was finding out what Isabella knew about Maya’s stolen kiss. I knew she told her about it. While she didn’t seem upset, I still needed to know her reaction. Once we sat down to eat, we could talk about it a little. Gaspard and Maya headed out, and the hotel manager escorted them to the valet. Maya threw me a suspicious gaze as Gaspard looped his arm in hers and left.
“You look nervous. Are you all right?” Isabella asked. The soft ambience of her lips that formed that smile gave me hope she wasn’t upset with me at all. At least I hoped she wasn’t.
“Not at all,” I lied. “Where would you like to eat?”
“I’m not too keen on eating in fancy places. I like the simple things in life, and I wouldn’t mind eating in a closet restaurant just as long as the food is good.”
Statements like that were what made me fall for her so hard in the first place. She was the epitome of perfection in my eyes. Everything about her was so humble and delicate it made my nerves stand on end.
“Very well then. Are you all right with just eating here at the hotel?” I asked.
“I was hoping you would say that because I can smell the Korean barbecue from here. Let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and whisked me toward the restaurant from which that sweet smell was emanating. With her hand in mine, my heart stopped for a brief moment. It gave me flashbacks from last night when I held her close to my heart and breathed in her scent. I wanted to experience that again.
We approached a modest-looking place where it appeared as if everyone was cooking their food right at their tables. The host seated us, and the waiter took our orders. Everyone around us was laughing, drinking, and enjoying their time.
The steam from the burners on each table filled the air with the delicious scents of cooked meat and vegetables coupled with Korean sauces and spices. Isabella stared at me for a moment without saying a word. I wondered what could be going through her mind. My biggest dread was the first words to come out of her mouth would be Maya and kiss. I still hoped she didn’t know about it, and if she did, I hoped she didn’t bring it up.
“So, did you enjoy it?” she asked sarcastically.
And there it was. I sipped the glass of water the waitress placed in front of me. “Did I enjoy what?” I asked nervously.
“When Maya kissed you. Did you embrace her? Did you hold her? Did you use your tongue? Did you try to take off her clothes?”
My heart damn near dropped to my knees. “So, I guess she told you what she did.”
“Yes, she told me everything. She said you enjoyed it, too.” She snickered, waiting for my reaction.
“What? No! I didn’t enjoy it at all. She came to my room unannounced, pressured me into confessing something, and then kissed me without warning just to prove her point. It was entirely unwanted, and I did nothing to reciprocate it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am without a doubt one-hundred percent positive.” I gave her a look of certainty.
“Okay, I believe you,” she said, grinning.
“I would also appreciate it if she never touches me again,” I said firmly.
“Don’t worry, Dante. I’ve already spoken to her about it. She won’t be doing anything like that ever again.”
“I’m curious as to why she said that I enjoyed it. I don’t find unwanted sexual advances to be enjoyable.”
“Oh, I just made that part up to see what your reaction would be. I wanted to know if you did enjoy it—but I can see you didn’t from your fiery attempt to convince me. You’re telling me the truth. Thanks for reassuring me,” she said. I rolled my eyes and took another sip of water.
The emotional roller coaster I was on had my heart thumping like crazy. Even for a split second, the thought of losing her threw me into a whirlwind of despair and anxiety. The sweat on my forehead dripped on the table. I wiped it away with the handkerchief I kept in my pocket. Maybe it was from the steam this cooker on our table was giving off.
The waitress placed two large plates of raw meat and vegetables in front of us. We cleared an area of the empty plates she handed us before she put the meat on the cooker. The steam rose as the meat sizzled. It smelled delicious.
“So, about last night . . .” Isabella stopped mid-sentence and gazed at the various sauces on the table. She was nervous about something. “Y-you said you couldn’t have me. What made you think you can’t?” she asked, stuttering a little.
My nerves crumpled, forcing me to stutter along with her. “B-because you’re married.”
“That’s what I thought. You’re such an honorable guy, Dante. A less disciplined man in your position would have taken advantage of me last night without hesitation.”
“Unlike some men, I tend to have values—and I don’t like having one-night stands. I enjoy making love with someone I’m in a relationship with.”
“Making love and having sex with someone you love is the same thing, isn’t it?”
I smiled, took a piece of meat from the cooker, and placed it on her empty plate.
“This is what makes me unique from the men you might have dealt with in the past, Isabella. When I say make love, I’m talking about my woman lying in my arms as we slowly fall asleep in front of the television on our second anniversary. Us walking on the sandy beach and me gazing into her eyes, wondering how an angel could have fallen into my arms and loved me the same as I loved her. Placing the ring on her finger that will seal our love for each other in life as well as in death, and telling stories about our childhoods on a snowy night in front of the fireplace drinking hot chocolate.
“Being by her side when she gives birth to our firstborn child, welcoming a new chapter in our lives together—that is what I’m talking about when I say make love. It goes well beyond the realm of the physical and transcends into the mind and soul. All that I am would be hers. I would love her unequivocally, just as I hope she would love me. A love that would last for years, for decades, not just for a few moments of pleasure.”
She sat silently. Her eyes began to water, and tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry, Dante.”
“Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, it’s not that.” She wiped her eyes.
“Then what?” I pressed. I refused to let it go that easily. Something I said had to have upset her.
“Please, Dante, it’s just . . .” Everyone stared at us as if I’d wronged her in some way.
“You can tell me what’s on your mind. Was it something I said?”
“It’s just that you’re such a sweet, romantic guy, and you just described something I’ve wanted to experience my whole life. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to have moments like that. My husband isn’t like that at all.”
“What is he like?” This was my moment. I needed to force her to see the truth about Nathan.
“The complete opposite. Once we got married, he changed completely. It’s as if he’d been waiting to get married to show his true colors. I keep telling myself that I’m still in love with him. But how can I be when he doesn’t feel the same way? He never returns my affections. I guess I’m just fooling myself just as I have been all these years. I’m a fraud.”
“You’re no fraud, Isabella. No one can fault you for trying to find happiness. Maybe if you just talk to him about it, things will change.”
“Talking to him is useless. I speak, but he doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t want to hear me,” she confided. I handed her a few napkins so she could wipe the sorrow from her eyes.
For the first time, I saw the depths of her suffering. It broke my heart to know the woman I loved had to go through so much heartache for the sake of misplaced loyalty to a man who didn’t love her. It sickened me.
This had me rethinking my promise. Should I just tell her the man she made a vow to cheated without remorse and that I was the person sending her the letters? No. I couldn’t do that. She needed to find out the truth for herself, no matter how much it tore me up inside. I was sure Maya and her overzealous prying would help Isabella to see the truth soon.
I felt so guilty for allowing her to suffer like this. I held the knowledge to help her, but what could I do? Was it my place to ruin her marriage? Was the truth by whatever means necessary that prevalent when it came to heartbreak? She wiped away the tears while I sat there and watched helplessly. It was too much for me to bear.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like this,” she said, cracking a smile to mask her pain.
“Maybe you should call him and tell him how you feel.”
“I’ve been calling him day and night since we got here, but he never answers the phone. Not once. I guess he’s taking a break from all my nagging.”
Rage built up inside of me, and I wanted to burst into a sea of disclosure that would put an end to her marriage—to her suffering. She didn’t deserve this. Done wiping her eyes, she put on a fake smile and took a bite of the food.
“Well, that’s enough about me. Tell me more about you. Last night when I asked you about your personal life, you’d always divert the question. It seems like you know a lot more about me than I know about you. It’s time for you to tell me about yourself, Dante, no diversions. And don’t tell things that I can read in Forbes or the Financial Times,” she said, laughing. Even though I would like to laugh right now, I couldn’t. I saw the pain behind her smile, and the rage within me still had yet to subside. I tried to calm down and focus on her strength, hoping it would give me the comfort I needed to answer her questions.
“Last night you told me you were single. How long have you been single?”
“Four years,” I said shyly.
“Four years? An extremely wealthy man like you has been single for four years. You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding? It’s been four years since I’ve been with anyone. That’s the truth.”
“That’s not counting one-night stands, is it?”
“As I said before, I don’t do one-night stands. It’s too much of a risk for someone like me. I like to establish a relationship before giving myself to someone. Seems old fashioned, I know.”
“That’s not old fashioned at all. It’s honorable and sincere. You strike me as a hopeless romantic.”
“Guess you could say that.” I chuckled.
“What about your last relationship? What happened with that?”
I looked down and started to give more attention to my food than her. That was the question I was hoping to avoid. I thought I had buried that skeleton of heartache and pain so deep that no one would ask about it ever again, and if anyone did, I could brush it off. She was staring at me with those sweet, innocent eyes, waiting for me to reply.
“Well?” she asked. I gathered up my courage to tell her about the emotional ride of horror that was my last relationship.
“We were together for two years. She cheated on me with a photographer, a musician, an intern at one of my companies, and my pool cleaner. She got pregnant by the intern, tried to say the child was mine; we broke up—the end,” I said swiftly. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.
“Are you serious?”
“Very.” I gave her a stern look. I wanted her to know that I wouldn’t joke about things like that.
“I’m so sorry, Dante. Is that why you’ve been single for four years? Are you afraid of getting your heart broken again?”
“A broken heart can’t begin to describe the emotional train wreck I became after that mess of a relationship. I lived in denial for a long time. I didn’t want to believe the stories people were telling me. If you looked up the word idiocy online, you’d see my photo as the top search result when it came to that relationship.
If it weren’t for Gaspard, I don’t know what would have become of me.” I could see concern on her face, the expression of someone who was going through the same thing I had. She took a sip of her water, looked down, and then back up at me.
“Dante, if you don’t mind if I ask, and please don’t take offense, how do you know the child wasn’t yours?”
“I was on a three-month business trip to England. When I got back, she was two weeks pregnant. The math just didn’t add up, you know. Besides, she broke down and told me everything after I ended our relationship. She was remorseless in her confession and threatened to go to the tabloids if I didn’t give her money for a house and car.”
“Did you ever cheat on her?”
“No, Isabella, I could never cheat on someone I love. If you truly love someone, cheating would be as foreign to you as commitment is to a womanizer. I thought I was in love with that woman, yet she took my heart, put it in a shredder, stomped on it, took a giant dump on it, and then put it on a spacecraft bound for the surface of the sun to be incinerated.”
She chuckled a little. “I know how you feel, Dante.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I feel that way every day of my life. I guess my private life has turned me into a workaholic. It’s a way for me to avoid the troubles that wait for me at home.”
“Do you think he’s cheating on you?”
“I keep telling myself he isn’t, but the way he acts, his secretive behavior, and Maya’s constant suspicions give me doubts at times.”
“Do you truly love your husband?” She stopped and looked at me curiously, just as she had last night. Had I let my language slip again?
“Dante. Could you please write my name down again? Only this time, I would like for you to use your right hand,” she requested.
“W-why?”
“I want to verify something.”
“I would, but my hand is kind of sore from, ummm . . .”
“Sore from what? Are you okay?”
“Grip exercises. I was doing some crush-grip exercises last night when I went back to my room,” I said in a panic, hoping she would buy it.
“Why were you doing grip exercises?”
“I do that when I’m nervous.”
“Did I make you nervous when I asked you to stay last night?”
“Sort of.”
“I admit that was a little out of the ordinary, but I was drunk. I’m glad you’re such a gentleman.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“However, you never answered a critical question I asked you last night. Do you think you could answer it now?”
“Sure.”
“Do you want me?” she asked innocently yet passionately.
My heart shot into my throat, causing my eyes to widen. How was I supposed to answer that? She knew the answer . . . She just wanted to hear it from my lips. The smile on her face became much more intense as she grabbed her chopsticks and placed a piece of lettuce in her mouth, awaiting my answer.
“Isabella . . . I—” I stuttered. Must I confess my feelings for her now, despite everything I’d promised myself?
Yes, Isabella, I do want you. More than anything in this world and beyond. I would sacrifice my soul if it meant I could hold you forever the same way I held you last night. You are my everything, my air—all that sustains me is what you are.
“You can tell me, Dante,” she pressed.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I said. I’d hoped to buy some time to figure out how I should tell her without becoming flustered.
“It’s easy. Do you want me or not?”
“How about I just say this . . . I can’t have you and that kills me inside.”
“And what if I told you I could fall in love with someone like you?”
I sat there speechless. No words could express the shock of what she just said. Was she serious or was she toying with me?
“How could you be so sure?” I asked.
“Well, Dante. Since we’ve met, I’ve realized you are nothing like what I was expecting. Things I read about you in the Wall Street Journal and Fortune Magazine would have me think you’re a ruthless businessman who takes whatever he wants whenever he wants, without compromise. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I see you are a kind, romantic gentleman with an even-tempered and soft-spoken personality. I wonder how someone so nice could have become so wealthy.”
“I’ll tell you this, Isabella. One doesn’t have to be ruthless and mean-spirited to become successful. You just have to be a lot smarter than your competition. My father had me doing game theory, financial analytics, and strategic planning in business by the time I was twelve.
Hell, I’m sure I could have mastered all three levels of the Chartered Financial Analyst curriculum by the time I was sixteen. We didn’t have much growing up, and that helped me to be humble. My mother played an important part in my upbringing, and she taught me to treat everyone I encountered with respect, be it a janitor or a CEO.”
“I’m surprised your last relationship didn’t tarnish your personality. It would be hard for someone to believe in love after what you went through.”
“And those are qualities that could capture your heart?”
“Yes, they are.”
All right, that was it. I was just going to say it. “Isabella . . . I have something to tell you. I’ve held this in for far too long,” I began.
“Yes, Dante. What is it?” We gazed into each other’s eyes, and I reached for her hands.
“You two are still here eating? It’s been three hours,” said Maya, who’d popped up out of nowhere with Gaspard. We looked up at them, surprised and a little annoyed. I turned my attention to my watch to see the time. Maya was right. Time seemed to breeze on by when I was with her.
“Maya, you are the queen of bad timing,” growled Isabella.
“Did I interrupt something?” she asked.
“Dante, I’m sorry to intrude, but we have to go to England right away. The venture capital firm, First Leverage Fund, is looking to purchase the software company we were planning to bid on next week. If you still want that company, then we have to see to it personally. I got the call while we were eating. Their board would like to speak with you before moving forward,” said Gaspard.
“Wait a second, so you’re going to leave us here in Korea?” asked Maya.
“No. The jet will take you back as planned. Dante and I have another jet prepared to take us to London,” Gaspard clarified. I looked at Isabella, and a sad, disappointed expression overcame her face. I didn’t want to leave her. Every second I spent away from her seemed like torture . . . Everlasting torture.
“Please, Dante. We have to go now. It’s going to take us a little over eleven hours to get there. If we leave now, we can make it,” said Gaspard.
“We can’t do a video conference or something?” I asked, annoyed.
“Naturally, that was the first thing I suggested. However, they stressed the importance of you being there in person.” I stared at Isabella, unsure of what I should do. I wasn’t going to have an opportunity like this again for a long time. I felt like a teenage boy rife with indecision.
“Dante,” Isabella said softly.
“I-I’m sorry, Isabella. I’ll see you when we’re back in the US,” I said with a heavy heart.
“When? For how long?” she asked impatiently.
“In about two weeks,” said Gaspard.
“Two weeks?” Isabella and I said in unison.
“Yes, two weeks. That’s the timeline given to us by their board. You can speak to them on the way there, Dante.” I gritted my teeth. I hadn’t thought the deal with that software company would derail my time with her. Our meeting with them wasn’t supposed to have happened for another three weeks. The partners at First Leverage Fund would rue the day they tried to undercut me.
“Dante, you go and take care of business. We have to get back and brief Oliver on our meeting anyway. We’ll catch up later,” said Isabella, excusing herself from the table. Maya followed suit while I, in extreme frustration, followed Gaspard to our transportation to the airstrip. The perfect moment . . . lost.