Dante

"Dante," Ivan says. We're alone in the same room now. "I want to fill you in on something. Based on how relaxed and calm you look; I doubt you're already aware of it."

What's he referring to? I just hope it's not something related to that damn Bachman.

"What's going on?" I rest my arms on my legs and fix my gaze on him, sitting on the other couch. "Spill it. You know I don't like suspense, especially not tasteless surprises."

He sighs deeply and looks at me.

"A few days ago, I went to the bar. Filippo," he refers to the owner, "told me that Tamara is pregnant."

I don't know why he's telling me this. What that bitch does or what happens to her matters very little to me.

"And how is that my concern?" I ask him, though I wanted it to sound like a statement. "What she does with her life is none of my damn business."

"I don't know, I thought maybe you'd want to know."

"And why should I? I only fucked her a few times," I mutter. "You know she never meant anything to me other than a qu