But it’s the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth that makes my chest swell with pride even as fury burns through my veins.
My beautiful, reckless, brilliant wife just outsmarted one of the most dangerous men I’ve ever known.
I can’t help the smile that curves my lips, dark and predatory. “Surprised,Uncle?”
Lorenzo’s gaze snaps to me, and I see the moment he realizes he’s been played.
His face contorts with rage, the carefully maintained mask of civility cracking to reveal the monster beneath.
Around us, his men shift nervously, weapons raised but uncertain. My own soldiers fan out behind me, creating a semicircle of armed tension.
“You always underestimate her,” I continue, moving slowly toward Sophia. My eyes never leave Lorenzo, but I’m acutely aware of every breath she takes, every slight movement. “That was your first mistake.”
“Mikhail.” Lorenzo’s voice is tight with barely controlled fury. “Always so predictable. Did you really think I wouldn’t anticipate your little rescue attempt?”
“Did you really think I’d let you keep my wife?” I counter, finally reaching Sophia’s side. I want to touch her, to reassure myself she’s real and whole, but I can’t afford the distraction. Not yet.
Lorenzo circles us slowly, and I mirror his movements, keeping myself between him and Sophia.
The warehouse feels smaller suddenly, the walls pressing in as decades of history and betrayal fill the space between us.
“What happened to you?” I growl. “We used to be family. You raised me after my parents died. You taught me everything I know about this life.”
Something flickers across Lorenzo’s face. Pain, maybe. Or regret. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by cold calculation. “That’s exactly the problem. I taught you everything. I molded you, shaped you, made you into the perfect heir. And for what? So you could take what should have been mine?”
“The family chose me.” I keep my voice level despite the anger building in my chest. “My father chose me.”
“Your father was a fool!” Lorenzo’s shout echoes off the metal walls. “He was my older brother, and he treated me like a servant. Like I was nothing. And when he died, when I finally thought I’d get what I deserved, he left everything to a boy barely out of his teens.”
I see it now, the poison that’s been festering in him for decades. The resentment. The jealousy. The rage at being passed over. “So you destroyed Nicole to punish me? An innocent sixteen-year-old girl?”
“I destroyed Nicole to break you.” Lorenzo’s smile is vicious. “And it worked, didn’t it? You became exactly what I needed you to be. Ruthless. Violent. Consumed by revenge. While you were busy hunting Vincent Moretti, I was taking everything you’d built.”
Sophia makes a small sound beside me, and I feel her hand brush against mine.
The touch grounds me, keeps me from launching myself at Lorenzo and tearing him apart with my bare hands.
“You framed her father,” I say, and it’s not a question. “You made me kill an innocent man.”
“Vincent Moretti was hardly innocent.” Lorenzo waves his hand dismissively. “But yes, I made sure all the evidence pointed to him. It was almost too easy. You were so desperate for someone to blame, so consumed by guilt over failing to protect your precious sister.”
The words hit their mark, reopening wounds I thought had scarred over. But I don’t let it show.
“And Adrian?” I ask. “Was he part of your plan too?”
“Adrian was a useful idiot with his own vendetta.” Lorenzo shrugs. “I simply pointed him in the right direction and let nature take its course. The fact that you killed him saved me the trouble of disposing of him later.”
Sophia tenses beside me, her breathing quickening. I know what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too. How many people have died because of Lorenzo’s manipulations? How many lives has he destroyed in his quest for power?
“You could have just asked,” I say quietly. “If you wanted to lead the family, you could have come to me. We could have worked something out.”
Lorenzo laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “And be forever in your debt? Forever the subordinate? No, I’d rather burn it all down than beg for scraps from your table.”
The tension in the warehouse reaches a breaking point.
I can feel it in the way Lorenzo’s men shift their weight, in the way my own soldiers tighten their grips on their weapons.
Someone is going to make a move, and when they do all hell will break loose.
