The Mafia Boss’s Dog

Part 2 — The Man Behind the Cold Eyes

I stared at Dante Moretti through the open SUV door.

“Mr. Moretti, I appreciate the invitation, but I’m supposed to be working.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“You’re not working today.”

I frowned.

“How would you know that?”

“Because I checked.”

Of course he had.

Before I could argue, Orion pushed his enormous head against my stomach and let out a soft whine.

I looked down.

“You’re really going to use your dog to convince me?”

Dante glanced at Orion.

“He’s never needed to convince anyone of anything.”

I sighed and climbed into the SUV.

The interior was more luxurious than any apartment I’d ever been inside. Orion immediately settled beside me, placing his head on my lap.

Dante watched the scene in silence.

“He’s never done that,” he finally said.

“Done what?”

“Allowed someone to touch him like that. Especially someone he barely knows.”

I gently rubbed Orion’s ears.

“Maybe he just needs someone who doesn’t treat him like a weapon.”

Dante’s expression changed slightly.

For a moment, the cold businessman disappeared, replaced by something I couldn’t quite understand.

“Interesting observation.”

The SUV pulled away.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at an enormous mansion overlooking the Hudson River.

Two guards opened the gates. Several more stood outside the entrance.

I stepped out and stared.

“Do you live here?”

Dante gave me a sideways glance.

“Would you prefer I lived in an apartment?”

“No. I just didn’t realize dog owners needed castles.”

One of the guards almost smiled.

Dante actually laughed.

It was brief, unexpected, and surprisingly attractive.

Inside, the mansion was breathtaking. Marble floors, enormous windows, expensive paintings, and a staircase that looked like something from a royal palace.

But Orion ignored everything.

He led me straight to a large room filled with dog beds, toys, and expensive equipment.

I crouched beside him.

“Well, somebody certainly has everything.”

Orion wagged his tail.

A housekeeper approached.

“Mr. Moretti, the veterinarian is here.”

Dante nodded.

“Bring him in.”

A few minutes later, an older veterinarian entered with a medical bag.

He examined Orion carefully before looking at Dante.

“Physically, he’s perfectly healthy. But he’s experiencing separation anxiety.”

Dante frowned.

“He’s never had separation anxiety.”

The veterinarian smiled.

“Perhaps he’s found someone he doesn’t want to lose.”

I looked up.

“Are you saying he needs me?”

“Possibly. I’d recommend regular interaction.”

Dante folded his arms.

“Then she’ll come here.”

I immediately stood.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes met mine.

“Name your price.”

I stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever your restaurant pays you, I’ll double it.”

I shook my head.

“That’s not the point.”

“Triple.”

“Mr. Moretti!”

He stopped.

I took a breath.

“I’m not interested in being bought. I like Orion. He’s sweet, and I’ll visit him if I have time. But I have a job, an apartment, and a life.”

The room became completely silent.

The veterinarian suddenly found something fascinating inside his medical bag.

Dante studied me for a long moment.

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Then he nodded.

“Fine.”

I blinked.

“Fine?”

“You’ll visit when you want. No payment.”

I smiled.

“That’s better.”

Orion barked happily, as if approving the agreement.

For the first time in years, Dante Moretti had been told no without someone immediately apologizing.

And strangely, he didn’t dislike it.

Over the next two weeks, I visited Orion whenever my schedule allowed.

Sometimes I brought him treats. Sometimes I simply sat in the garden and talked to him.

Dante was usually nearby.

At first, he barely spoke.

Then he started asking questions.

Where did I grow up?

Did I have family?

Why did I work two shifts?

One afternoon, while Orion slept beside my feet, he asked something unexpected.

“Why are you always so cheerful?”

I laughed.

“I’m not.”

“You smile constantly.”

“Because being miserable doesn’t pay my rent.”

He looked at me for several seconds.

Then he asked quietly:

“Has anyone ever taken care of you, Olivia?”

My smile faded.

“My mother died when I was seventeen. My father left before I was born. I’ve been taking care of myself ever since.”

Dante said nothing.

But something dark passed through his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

I shrugged.

“It’s life.”

He looked toward the garden.

“Not everyone should have to survive alone.”

I turned toward him.

For the first time, I wondered what kind of loneliness belonged to a man who owned half the city but seemed to have nobody.

Then my phone rang.

It was Richard, my manager.

“Olivia! Where are you?”

“At Mr. Moretti’s.”

His voice dropped.

“You need to listen carefully. Two men came asking about you today. They weren’t customers. They knew your name, your schedule, everything.”

My stomach tightened.

“What did they want?”

“I don’t know. But they left a message.”

“What message?”

Richard hesitated.

“They said to tell Olivia Marshall that some debts never disappear.”

My fingers went cold.

I slowly lowered the phone.

Dante had already noticed my expression.

“What happened?”

I swallowed.

“Someone was looking for me.”

His face changed instantly.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

He stood and reached for his phone.

“Marcus.”

The head of security appeared almost immediately.

“Yes, boss?”

“Find out who visited Bellamy’s today. I want names, photographs, and addresses.”

Marcus nodded.

“Understood.”

I grabbed Dante’s sleeve.

“Wait. You don’t need to do that.”

He looked down at my hand.

“Olivia, someone has been watching you.”

“But why?”

His jaw tightened.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

Then Orion suddenly stood.

His ears pointed toward the entrance.

A low growl rumbled through his chest.

Dante turned.

And when he saw the security monitor, his expression became terrifying.

A black sedan was parked outside the mansion gates.

A man stood beside it, holding a photograph.

My photograph.