~MARCEL~Six hours earlier, I had sat in Dr. Morrison’s office, listening to him deliver news I didn’t want to hear.“Erectile dysfunction is more common than you think, Mr. Dante,” Morrison had said, his tone professional but cautious. He knew who I was. Everyone did. “In your case, it appears to be psychological rather than physical. Stress, perhaps. The lifestyle you lead—”“Get to the point,” I interrupted.Morrison cleared his throat. “The solution is relatively simple. You need more sexual activity. Regular intimacy can help retrain your body’s responses, reduce stress hormones—”“More sex,” I summarized flatly.“In essence, yes.”“Noted.”I had left his office afterwards, irritated. Sex had always been a tool for me—a release, a way to maintain control, occasionally a weapon. But lately, my body has been betraying me at the worst moments. During a meeting with the Cosa Nostra’s underboss last month, I had taken a woman to bed specifically to project an image of vitality and dom
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