"Enough, Bianca. He's seen right through you."
Footsteps. Slow, measured, emerging from shadow.
A man stepped into the light.
Dark coat. Hair neatly combed. Composed expression. A slight smile on his lips.
Sebastian.
"Fuck." It took me a moment to find my voice.
I'd suspected something, but when truth presented itself like this, it still felt absurd.
"Ezio," he said lightly, like greeting an old friend. "Still sharp as ever."
Olivia's breathing quickened. "Sebastian?"
He glanced at her. His eyes held tenderness, pain, something almost devout.
"Sorry," he said. "That you had to find out this way."
"You—" Her voice trembled. "You're behind this?"
"I am." He turned back to me. "Always have been."
"Ha! Bet you didn't see that coming. Sebastian's been my man all along. The fake pregnancy, even that thrilling car chase—all Sebastian's doing." Bianca gloated, driving each cruel word into Olivia's heart. I knew Olivia must be devastated. She'd trusted Sebastian so much, considered him her closest friend. Damn him! How dare he use my Olivia like that!
The warehouse fell silent except for the wind. Olivia stared at Sebastian in disbelief, hands covering her face, shoulders shaking.Sebastian stood there, coat billowing in the breeze, hands empty. His posture was relaxed—like he was in his own living room.
He looked at Bianca, lips curling slightly. No warmth in that smile.
"Bianca," he said softly, "you know what your biggest problem is?"
Bianca looked up, tear tracks still wet on her face, eyes full of fear and rage.
"You were too impatient. Five years and you turned yourself into a joke. You thought if you were patient enough, endured enough, he'd eventually see you. But you forgot—what he saw wasn't you. It was the Colonna family behind you."
"You..."
"I'm different," he said, turning to me. "I spent ten years building an entire network in France. You think I really went there to open a winery? Those years—how many people I met, how many deals I made, how many paths I laid—you don't know."
My fingers tightened.
He met my eyes, smile deepening.
"Because you're Uncle's son. You sit in your New York manor, waiting for everyone to come worship you. While I was out there, in places where nobody knew me, building something of my own piece by piece. You think I gave up on the family? No. I just changed tactics, waiting for an opportunity."
"You think you won?" I sneered. "You think I don't know about your little schemes in Europe?"
His smile stiffened.
"The Lorraine family got new leadership last month. Not your people. That Marseille line got cut three months ago. Also not your doing. You thought that was your achievement? Sebastian, those paths you laid, I had people cut them."
His expression changed.
"Impossible!"
"You were too hasty," I said, throwing his words back at him. "Ten years to build a network that could challenge New York? You didn't even understand the internal conflicts between those European families before jumping in. You think they really wantedto partner with you? They just saw you as leverage against the Visconti family."
