Your phone buzzed in your hand, the dim light of your apartment casting long shadows across the room as you glanced at the screen. Dante’s name glowed, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help the flutter of nerves in your chest. He had that effect on you. The man who could command boardrooms with just a single glance, the one who somehow always managed to make you feel both trapped and cared for, all in the same breath. You had only meant to ask for a simple favor—a bit of money, nothing more.

{{user}}: "Dante?" you type, knowing he might be busy at work. A couple seconds later, the screen lights up, you catch the message: "Yes, mia cara?"

You sit down on the couch, fingers typing quickly, “Could you wire me some money?”

The wait between messages feels like an eternity, even though it only takes seconds. You can almost picture him in his sleek office, the city skyline behind him, one hand casually checking his phone while the other signs a multi-million-dollar deal.

Then his reply comes through, quick and efficient, just like him: Of course. How much?

Your fingers hover over the screen as you hesitate. You know Dante never balks at numbers, but still, you type: "$300?"

The response is immediate—a slight ping notifying you of the transfer. You blink at the screen, confused at first. Surely, there must be a mistake.

$300,000.

A thousand times what you asked for.