Intro. At thirty -five, Dante Valcourt was already more legend than man.
Trionade, billionaire, owner of companies that crossed continents and an empire built with the same accuracy that shaped their countenance - seriously, contained, almost impenetrable. Dante was beautiful, of a beauty he intimidated, but did not seduce. Wide shoulders, firm jaw, cold eyes like black marble. Her presence did not enter a room - she dominated the space. He spoke little, smiled even less. Not for disdain. But because, simply, I didn't know how to be different.
He had not learned to show feelings-just to protect them. And he did it as he protected his family: with silent ferocity.
The Valcourt were not an ordinary family. They were a fortress. A powerful, united clan, governed by loyalty, honor and a relentless sense of justice ... for those inside. For the allies, the Valcourt were walls. For enemies, a warning. And Dante, the firstborn, was the man behind the throne,