My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 176: The Better Man In The Room

Catherine’s POV

The silence that followed Dante’s gravelly compliment was so heavy it felt like the walls of the room were closing in. Richard didn’t move, but his eyes narrowed, tracking the way Dante’s hand remained possessively near my waist as he straightened up. I could feel Julian’s gaze from the landing above; it was just a stare; but I could feel the weight of it. I could see his eyes burning with rage like he would move fast and beat up Dante.

"A very theatrical entrance," Richard said, his voice dropping into that smooth, dangerous register. "I’ll do you the honors of a proper introduction since you’ve chosen to ignore everyone and focus on Catherine."

I bit my lower lip and pinched Dante, trying to signal him to be more courteous. He looked at me and just smirked, turning back to Richard.

"I am Richard Vaughn. Welcome to my home."

Dante didn’t offer his hand. He simply inclined his head, a gesture that was polite on the surface but held the unmistakable chill of someone who didn’t consider Richard an equal.

Why the fuck was he making it difficult? Richard hates disrespect. I thought I mentioned it to Dante.

"Nice meeting you. I’m Dante. Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Vaughn. I’ve heard quite a bit about your... hospitality."

Richard’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "I’m sure you have. Shall we? Dinner is waiting, and I’m eager to learn more about the man who has captured my daughter’s attention so suddenly."

We moved toward the dining room in a funeral-like procession. Richard led the way with a stiff-backed elegance, followed by Gabriel and an attention-seeking Lucy who tried to speak thrice since Dante arrived, only for her to be ignored all three times.

I walked beside Dante, his hand moving to the small of my back. The heat of his palm through my dress was the only thing keeping me grounded. As we entered the dining room, I saw the seating arrangement. Richard sat at the head, with my mother, Lisa, to his right.

Lucy and Gabriel sat on one side, leaving the seats opposite them for Dante and me. This meant I was sitting directly across from Julian, who had slipped into his chair like a ghost. He looked ravaged. His bloodshot eyes darted between me and Dante’s hand, which was now resting casually on the table near mine.

As the first course was served, a chilled gazpacho that looked like blood in the crystal bowls, Richard leaned back and interlaced his fingers.

"So, Dante," Richard began, after clearing his throat. "You’ve made quite a splash at the university. But you’ll forgive me if I find your presence here a bit... anomalous. A man of your bearing usually hails from certain circles but I couldn’t find anything substantial about you or your family. You aren’t from around here, are you?"

Dante took a slow, deliberate sip of his water before answering. "I’m not. My family is primarily based in Europe, though our interests are global. I spent most of my life in France and Italy."

"Europe," Richard repeated, his tone skeptical. "And yet you’ve chosen a local university in this city. Why? Surely the Sorbonne or Oxford would have been more suited to someone of your ’global interests’?"

"I find that the most interesting things happen in the most unexpected places," Dante replied, casting a side-long glance at me that was so convincingly tender it made my heart skip. "Besides, my family’s business required a representative here. I simply combined work with the pleasure of meeting Catherine."

Gabriel let out a sharp, derisive snort. "Family business. That’s a very convenient way of saying you’re a trust-fund kid with no real job. What exactly is this business? My father spent the afternoon trying to find a ’Dante’ in the international registries. He found nothing."

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. I looked at my mother, who was staring at her soup as if she could drown in it.

Dante didn’t look offended. He actually let out a low laugh that seemed to mock Gabriel’s very existence. "That’s because you were looking for a person, Gabriel, not an empire. My family prefers the shadows. We don’t put our names on the labels of the things we own. We simply own the labels." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Richard’s eyes sharpened. He wasn’t a man who liked being outplayed in a conversation. He signaled to a butler, who immediately brought him a tablet. "I’m a man of facts, Dante. I don’t like mysteries in my dining room. You say your family is global. You say you’re from Europe. What is the name of this ’empire’ you represent?"

I held my breath, my lungs burning. Dante leaned forward, his expression turning into something predatory.

"The Varo Group," Dante replied clearly. "We specialize in viticulture. Or, as the press likes to call us, the owners of the largest wine conglomerate in the world."

The table went dead silent. Even Lucy stopped mid-sneer. The Varo Group was a name even I had heard of— they owned vineyards from Tuscany to Napa Valley, and their bottles were the kind Richard served only to politicians and billionaires.

Richard didn’t say a word. His thumbs moved rapidly over the tablet screen. The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock in the corner. I watched Richard’s face change. The skepticism faded, replaced by a stunned, calculating stillness.

"Varo..." Richard whispered, looking at the screen. He turned the tablet around so everyone on the table could see. It was a Forbes article from last year. It detailed the secretive family behind the Varo Group, noting that they were worth more than the GDP of several small countries. There were no photos of the family members, but the description of their reach matched everything Dante was saying.

"It says here the family is notoriously reclusive," Richard said, his voice now tinged with a respect that made me sick. "That they rarely send their heirs to public institutions."

"I’m the black sheep," Dante said with a wink. "I prefer to see the world before I have to run it. And I prefer to choose my own company, rather than have it chosen for me by a board of directors."

Lucy’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. The disdain was gone, replaced by a hungry, predatory sparkle. "The Varo Group? My father has a 1945 vintage from your family’s estate in his private cellar. It’s worth more than a car."

Dante didn’t even look at her. He kept his eyes on Richard. "It’s a decent year. But I prefer the 1961. It has more... bite."

Richard set the tablet down, his "nice" mask returning, but this time it was reinforced with greed. "Well, Dante. This is a surprise. I must apologize for my sons’ earlier skepticism. We see a lot of people trying to climb the Vaughn ladder, you see. We have to be careful."

"I’m not interested in your ladder, Mr. Vaughn," Dante said, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous thrum. "I have my own. I’m only interested in Catherine."

He reached over and interlaced his fingers with mine on top of the table. I felt Julian’s break. I heard the sound of his fork hitting the china with a clack.

"You’re lying," Julian said, his voice trembling with rage and hatred. He was looking at Dante, but his words were meant for me. "This is too perfect. The timing, the story, the background. Catherine, you met this guy a week ago. How can you be sure any of this is real?"

"Julian, that’s enough," Richard snapped, though his eyes were still scanning Dante, looking for the catch.

"No, it’s not!" Julian stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. He looked at me, his eyes pleading. "He’s using you. A guy like this... he doesn’t just show up at a local school. He’s playing a game. Why can’t y’all see it?"

Dante stood up slowly, not letting go of my hand. He was taller than Julian, and in the dim light of the dining room, he looked like a god of war. "The difference between us, Julian, is that I know how to pick a woman with worth. I saw Catherine once and realized she was the sun. If you can’t handle the heat, I suggest you leave the table."

Julian looked like he was going to lunge across the table. My mother let out a small, muffled sob of terror.

"Sit down, Julian," Richard commanded, his voice like a whip. "Now."

Julian hovered for a moment, his chest heaving, before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining room. The silence he left behind was deafening.

Richard cleared his throat, smoothing his tie. "He’s... he’s been under a lot of stress with the engagement and the finals. Please, Dante, ignore him. Tell me, what are the Varo Group’s plans for the local market? I’ve heard rumors of a merger."

I sat there, my heart hammering against my ribs, realizing that the lie had become so big it was now its own monster. Dante had won the first round, but something in the way Richard looked at him told me this wasn’t going to end well.

Now that he knew how affluent Dante was, he would try to keep him by his corner, for his stupid campaign.