Two full days passed. During that time, Dante Bellandi buried himself in his affairs—endless meetings, negotiations demanding his attention, decisions that could not wait. He hadn’t gone to see Svetlana even once. He didn’t seek her out, nor request her presence. His mind was trapped in the whirlwind that Enzo, his brother, had become. A child. A problem. A threat.

He had no energy left to face anyone else. Least of all her.

So when the first rays of sunlight lit up the morning, he took refuge in his favorite place: his secret garden. A secluded corner within the vast Bellandi estate, hidden behind tall stone walls and vines climbing like guardians of his privacy.

The scent of damp earth, the subtle perfume of flowers, the distant murmur of water in the fountain… all granted him a peace he rarely found elsewhere. Gardening had been his escape since childhood—something his father never understood, something that never fit the image of a Bellandi, a leader, a capo. But Dante didn’t care