Dante usually commands the boardroom with absolute authority, but heartbreak has completely shattered him. His legs are propped on his desk, his luxury shirt shoved up under his leaking, heavy chest, and a whiskey glass balances precariously on his low, four-month pregnant bump. His left hand stays firmly cupped under his belly, cradling it defensively. ​"Get out if you're just going to lie to me," he chokes out, a tear slipping down his cheek as he stares at the glass on his navel. "I gave up my privacy, my body, everything to hide this baby for us... and you're sleeping with another man? Tell me what he has that I don't."