The Dog Who Chose Me

Part 2: The Man Behind the Monster

I thought visiting Dante Moretti’s penthouse to see Orion would be a one-time favor.

I was wrong.

Three days after our first meeting, a black SUV appeared outside my apartment building.

My phone rang.

“Miss Marshall,” a deep voice said. “Orion hasn’t seen you in seventy-two hours.”

I closed my eyes.

“Mr. Moretti, your dog has a very comfortable life. I’m sure he’ll survive.”

There was a brief silence.

“Apparently, he disagrees.”

I laughed despite myself.

“Fine. I’ll visit him tomorrow. But I’m not wearing a suit, and I’m not calling him Sir.”

For the first time, I heard Dante laugh.

It was a low, unexpected sound.

“Tomorrow, then.”

The following afternoon, I arrived at Dante’s penthouse overlooking Central Park.

The place was enormous, decorated with dark marble, expensive paintings, and furniture that probably cost more than my entire apartment building.

But Orion didn’t care about any of it.

The moment he saw me, he ran across the living room and nearly knocked me backward.

“Easy, big boy!”

I crouched and hugged him.

Dante stood near the windows, watching us.

“You’ve made yourself very popular,” he remarked.

“Maybe your dog just has excellent taste.”

His lips curved slightly.

I spent the afternoon playing with Orion, brushing his thick black coat, and feeding him treats.

At one point, I noticed a scar running along his shoulder.

“What happened to him?”

Dante’s expression changed.

“An attack. Two years ago.”

I looked up.

“Was he protecting you?”

“Yes.”

I gently touched the fur around the scar.

“He must have been terrified.”

Dante stared at me.

“He’s trained not to show fear.”

I shook my head.

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

Something shifted in his expression.

Perhaps nobody had ever spoken about Orion that way in front of him.

Before I left, Dante walked me to the elevator.

“Olivia.”

I turned.

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to come here more often.”

I smiled.

“For Orion?”

He looked directly into my eyes.

“That’s what I told myself.”

My cheeks warmed.

Over the following weeks, I became a regular visitor.

Orion would wait beside the elevator every afternoon, recognizing the sound of my footsteps.

Dante began arranging his schedule around my visits.

Sometimes he would join us for dinner. Other times, he simply sat nearby while I told Orion stories about my terrible customers.

One evening, I arrived to find Dante standing in the kitchen, attempting to prepare dinner.

I stared at the burning pan.

“Are you trying to murder the vegetables?”

He looked offended.

“I own several restaurants.”

“Owning restaurants doesn’t mean you know how to cook.”

He stepped aside.

“Then show me.”

I laughed and took over.

For the first time, I saw Dante Moretti behaving like an ordinary man.

He asked about my childhood, my parents, and why I worked so many hours.

I told him my mother had died when I was seventeen. My father had disappeared long before that, leaving me to support myself.

He listened without interrupting.

Then he said quietly, “You shouldn’t have had to do everything alone.”

I looked down at my plate.

“Sometimes you don’t have a choice.”

His eyes remained on me.

“Perhaps you do now.”

I didn’t know what to say.

But that evening, when I left, he handed me a small box.

Inside was a beautiful silver necklace.

“I can’t accept this.”

“It’s not payment.”

“Dante, it’s too expensive.”

“Then consider it a gift from Orion.”

I laughed.

“Your dog has terrible spending habits.”

He smiled.

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And for a moment, I forgot that the man standing before me was feared by half of New York.

But the peaceful days didn’t last.

One Friday evening, I arrived at the penthouse and immediately noticed something was wrong.

Two additional guards stood near the entrance.

Dante was speaking on the phone, his expression dangerously cold.

When he saw me, he ended the call.

“Olivia, you shouldn’t have come tonight.”

My stomach tightened.

“Why?”

He approached me.

“Someone has been asking questions about you.”

“Who?”

“People who should never have learned your name.”

Before I could respond, Orion began growling toward the hallway.

A moment later, one of Dante’s men rushed inside.

“Boss, we found something.”

He handed Dante a photograph.

It showed me leaving my apartment that morning.

My hands went cold.

Dante’s jaw tightened.

“From this moment forward, you won’t go anywhere alone.”

I stepped backward.

“Wait. I never agreed to become part of your world.”

His expression softened.

“I know.”

“Then don’t make decisions for me.”

He looked at me for a long moment.

Finally, he nodded.

“You’re right. I’m asking, Olivia. Not ordering.”

I swallowed.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Let me keep you safe.”

I glanced at Orion, who had pressed his enormous body against my leg.

Then I looked at Dante.

“Only until we figure out who’s following me.”

He nodded.

“Agreed.”

But neither of us knew that the person watching me wasn’t interested in Dante’s money.

He wanted something much more personal.

He wanted to hurt the one person Dante Moretti had finally allowed himself to love.