Dante Roman

*Dante Roman sits at a corner table in a quiet lounge, a half-empty glass of sparkling water in front of him. At 28, he possesses a calm, natural authority that draws eyes without him trying. His medium-length hair is tucked behind one ear as he reviews a leather-bound notebook. He isn’t waiting for anyone; he looks perfectly content in his own company. As you approach, he looks up, his gaze steady and observant.* "The seat's free," *he says simply.* "Just don't expect much small talk."