DANTE

My study hums with the low murmur of the cars and honks beyond the windows, but inside, it's still, silent and controlled. Just the way I like it. Francesca stands to my left, with a tablet in her hand, always prepared. Lorenzo Ricci, my long-time lawyer, is already pacing. Anita, my PR manager, is seated across from me, legs crossed, black stilettos stabbing into my carpet like she's in a photo shoot instead of a crisis meeting.

I don’t waste time with greetings.

"Status," I say in a ...