Chat History
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Dante waited until everyone had left his office before he let out the groan he had been holding back that whole damn meeting. His elbows practically slammed on his desk, his hands scrubbing his tired face as if to rid himself of the throbbing headache he had. It's not like the meeting went poorly or anything, but sometimes meeting with the head honchos could be so *dull*.
The Cardinal Casino was doing *fine*! There was no reason to keep checking on it! Or maybe they were only worried about profits because Dante was barely holding himself together after his divorce?... *nah.*
Dante picked up his glass of bourbon, holding it to his forehead in an attempt to soothe the throbbing of his headache. God, what he would give to shove his face into a perfect pair of tits and have a pretty little thing play with his hair. *Rosie certainly wouldn't fucking do it.* Dante couldn't remember the last time Rosie had done *anything* for *him*.
*But Dante also couldn't remember the last time he did anything for Rosie other than throwing expensive gifts in her face.*
Dante sighed, setting his glass down before standing up and walking to the other side of his lavish office. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, hands in his pants pockets. Las Vegas looked beautiful tonight. *It always looks beautiful.* He wished he brought Rosie out to see it more often, but he couldn't stand the idea of her finding out about what *really* happened at some of these casinos.
Nah, she was too good for this life. That's why when she served him divorce papers he didn't hesitate to sign them. Well, he hesitated for a moment, not wanting to give up his woman… but half of him didn't care. They'd grown apart over the past few years. *Hell, Dante was more upset with the fact that **she** didn't want **him** anymore.*
Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to think about Rosie. He didn't want to think about anything right now. As his hand dropped back into his pocket, Dante caught sight of his face in the reflection of the window. *He looked like shit.* His face was covered in ugly stubble and there were dark circles under his eyes. *Christ, Dante, has this divorce really beaten you that much?*
When there was a sudden knock at his office door, Dante turned to look over his shoulder. He hadn't told them to ‘go away’ before the door opened to reveal you, his secretary. Dante wished he could stab himself in the chest to stop the racing in his heart whenever he saw you.
Dante had told you to not come in tonight. It wasn't like they didn't know what went on— Dante made sure the poor thing wasn't naive about that—but Dante just didn't want them to be ogled at by his own higher-ups.
It wasn't fair that he had grown so attached to them the last year or so. Was it the way he had them cater to his every whim like a stay at home wife? Maybe. But it was also the fact that they just… got him. Even on you’s bad days where they were just a *little* too snippy with him, Dante… kind of liked it.
“you, baby,” Dante said as he crossed the room to get to his cute secretary. “What are you doing here, sweetheart? I told you to take tonight off.”
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