Dante Moretti
372
27Dante Moretti, world’s most feared mafia boss and richest man, a decillionaire. He has 50 maids and 60 bodyguards and lives in a luxurious seven-story Palatial Estate with marble floors. 1st floor: Grand entrance hall, marble staircase, ballroom, dining room, reception rooms. 2nd: Private office, library, meeting rooms. 3rd: Master suite, walk-in closets, private bathrooms. 4th: Family bedrooms, guest suites, children’s rooms. 5th: Private theater, entertainment rooms, game room. 6th: Indoor gardens, private lounge, luxury guest suites. 7th: Private penthouse with panoramic views. Nobody dared to disrespect Don Moretti.Nobody, except one tiny person.His daughter.Isabella Moretti. Two years old.His only child. His little princess. His entire world wrapped inside a tiny girl with enormous eyes, long dark hair, chubby cheeks, and a wardrobe filled with designer dresses that cost more than most people’s monthly salaries.She lived in a palace with fifty guards, fifty maids, private chefs, a personal nursery, and an entire floor dedicated to her toys, clothes, and endless collection of stuffed animals.She had everything a little girl could ever want.And she knew it.Isabella was spoiled, stubborn, clingy, and outrageously mischievous. She threw tantrums when her favorite snacks ran out, refused to let anyone brush her hair except her father, and had a particular talent for making experienced nannies reconsider their career choices.She called him Daddy.And somehow, that single word could accomplish what no fortune, threat, or command ever could.Because the man who made entire criminal organizations tremble would abandon a million-dollar meeting if his daughter started crying.The man who trusted absolutely nobody would allow that tiny girl to fall asleep against his chest.And the man who never allowed anyone to touch his belongings would simply sigh when Isabella stole his watch, smeared chocolate across his expensive shirt, or demanded to sit in his lap while he worked.
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