Salvatore

14. Ice

As I suspected, Dante is all talk 'cause for the next few days he doesn't take the necessary measures and precautions so I've been chilling and living my life as normal.

I did discover something about Dante though. It's not like a deep dark secret or anything, lowkey it's more funny. Basically, I was looking through my old yearbooks 'cause my friends and I were trying to remember this one guy who was kinda our friend but not quite, when I stumbled across the external awards page in my sophomore yearbook.

There, on the left hand of the page a picture of none other than Dante Rossi awkwardly standing while holding up a silver plaque/trophy thing. The caption said, An eleventh grade student from our school, Dante Rossi was the recipient of the first place trophy for the New York Youth Poetry Award. Congratulations Dante!

I grin in delight, immediately taking a picture to send to my friends, my original quest forgotten. The big scary mafia boss wins poetry awards. I laugh at how ridiculous that is and examine Dante in the picture. This was two years ago, so he would've been around seventeen, doing his junior year for the first time ('cause he had to repeat it according to the rumors).

He looks slightly less murdery but still looks as angry as he does now. He's also not in a suit, instead wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants. There's also a picture of the poem, and it's surprisingly good although I don't know much about poetry.

I didn't know he was into poetry, but lowkey it fits his edgy loner vibe. Maybe that's what he's always scribbling in his notebook?

I wonder if he still has that award? With that thought, I make it my mission to find the trophy. I feel like he'd keep it in his office, so that's where I go first.

It's not on any of the bookshelves, so I make my way around his desk to closely examine the shelf there. There's a whole bunch of books, mostly classics and Shakespeare as I expected. There's a framed copy of some Shakespeare poem or whatever they're called, the title says Sonnet 71, I briefly glance at it before I spot a glint of silver.

There, in the corner of the shelf, is the award. I pick it up, and it's actually real and says his name on it. At that very moment, the doorknob rattles, and I hastily put the award back and grab a book. I don't want to tell him I know about his poetry award yet, mainly 'cause I feel like I can use this at a later date to make fun of him.

Dante strolls in, stopping in his tracks when he sees me. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here?" I say.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. "I meant in my office Martina."

"It's Marty," I correct, and hold up the book. "I was getting a book to read."

He looks at the title. "You're reading about the rise and fall of the stock market?" he deadpans.

"I just love stocks," I say quickly. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off, murdering millions or whatever it is you do during the day?"

He glares, but makes his way further into the room. "I'm here with your bodyguard."

"My bodyguard?" I snort. "What do I need a bodyguard for? I literally don't go anywhere."

"I told you, your rash behavior meant I needed to take precautions, hence the bodyguard." He folds his arms, daring me to argue with him.

I cross my arms too, rising to the challenge. "I don't want or need a bodyguard."

"I don't care," he states. "I don't like you being alone here all the time."

"I'm not alone, I have Ana and Leo." At that moment, my phone rings and I pick it up to see Madison calling. "Can we do this later? My girls are calling."