The diamond necklace and jewelry I chose are piled on top of the ruined fabric like they’re fucking costume jewelry instead of hundreds of thousands of dollars of precious stones.
Twentythousanddollars worth of designer clothing, destroyed.
White-hot rage floods through me. “What the fuck is this?” I hiss, gesturing at the destroyed dress, my control finally shattering completely. “Do you have any idea what that gown cost?”
“I don’t give a shit what it cost!” She’s out of bed now, stalking toward me in her t-shirt and pajama pants like she’s ready to fight, her hands balled into fists. “I hated it. It was your pretty decoration to parade around for your criminal friends. So I destroyed it, and it felt fucking amazing!”
The profanity from her mouth shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.
This isn’t the composed woman who smiled graciously at Viktor Torrino. This is pure, unfiltered rage.
“You destroyed twenty thousand dollars worth of designer clothing as an act of rebellion?” My voice comes out deadly quiet.
“Yes!” She smirks at me, her brown eyes alight with glee. “And I’d do it again. I’d burn every expensive thing in this prison if it meant showing you that I’m not your fucking doll to dress up!”
Something snaps inside me.
All the rage and possessiveness and unwanted attraction I’ve been fighting all evening comes roaring to the surface, and I close the distance between us in three strides.
“You think you can defy me?” I hiss, stepping toward her. “You think you can destroy my property and face no consequences?”
“Yourproperty?” Her laugh is vicious. “That’s what I am to you, isn’t it? Just another thing you own. Well, fuck you, Luca. Fuck your dress, fuck your alliance, and fuck your revenge!”
My own rage is simmering just beneath the surface, begging to come out. “Careful,cara,” I say silkily. “You’re forgetting who holds all the power here.”
She literally laughs in my face. “Power?” She takes another step toward me, reckless in her rage. She’s only a few feet from me now. “You think locking me in this mansion, controlling every aspect of my life, makes you powerful?” She tosses her head. “It just makes you a coward who can’t face his grief like an adult!”
Howdareshe. “You know nothing about my grief,” I snap.
“I know you’re using it as an excuse to torture innocent people!” Her voice cracks with fury. “You parade around talking about justice for your cousin, but this isn’t justice! This is just you lashing out because you’re in pain and you need someone to blame!”
She’s not going to turn this around on me. Fuck her. “Your father betrayed us?—”
“My father made a mistake under coercion!” she shouts, and there are tears in her eyes now—tears of rage, not sorrow. “And you’re punishingmefor it! I never hurt anyone! I spent my life saving injured animals, and you destroyed everything because of something my father did! How is that justice? How does destroying my life balance anything?”
“Your father’s choices—” I start to say but she fucking interrupts me. Again.
“Arehischoices!” She’s shaking with fury. “Not mine! I’m not responsible for what he did. But you don’t care about that, do you? You don’t care that I’m innocent, that I had nothing to do with Marco’s death. All you care about is making someone suffer because you’re in pain!”
“Don’t you dare assume you understand what I’m doing,” I snarl. “I’m seeking justice.”
“You’re not seeking justice.” Her chest is heaving, eyes wild. “You’re just a monster who destroys innocent people to fill the emptiness inside you. You dress it up as revenge, call it honoring Marco’s memory, but it’s just cruelty. You’re no better than the men who killed him!”
The comparison to Antonio and Marco’s killers is the final straw. My hands curl into fists at my sides, every muscle going rigid. “Don’t.” The word comes out strangled, more threat than speech. My jaw clenches so hard I can feel my teeth grinding together. “Don’t youdarecompare me to them.”
“Why not?” She doesn’t back down, and I want to hit her for it. Does she not recognize the danger? “You’re doing exactly what they did. Destroying innocent lives because?—”
“Innocent?” I’m in her face now, so close I can count the light freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. She instinctively takes a step back. “You want to talk aboutinnocent? Marco was innocent. He never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. He never betrayed anyone, never?—”
“Marcowasn’tinnocent!” Giuliana shouts back, and her words stop me dead in my tracks. “You stand there talking about how my father destroyed an innocent man, but Marco Marchetti was in organized crime! He wasn’t some civilian caught in crossfire. He was part ofyourworld,yourviolence,yourempire built on blood and corruption!”
White-hot rage floods through me. “You don’t know anything about Marco,” I say, my teeth clenched so tightly they hurt.
“I know he chose this life!” Her face is red. “I know he made his choices and understood the risks.” She slams her fist into her palm. “But I didn’t choose any of this! I’m a veterinarian. And I’m being punished because my father made a mistake?—”
“Amistake?” I’m shouting now too, all control gone. My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. “He sold intelligence that got Marco tortured to death! That’s not a mistake, that’s murder!”
“It was coercion,” Giuliana shouts, eyes narrowed as her hands slam on her hips. “My father was forced?—”
