Page 31 of Her Brutal First Love

"Stop that," Potenziana cut him off sharply. “I did not raise you to be a liar,bambino. Everyone has a choice.” Her voice softened, but her words cut deeper for it. “And you chose to have faith in yourself...even though you should know better by now.”

Bitterness flashed over Giancarlo's taut features. "What more can I do? I have already given her up—-"

"And that is your choice, not hers, not anyone else’s, and certainly not God’s.” Potenziana’s heart ached at the despair in her grandson's eyes. "Why must you isolate yourself so, Giancarlo?"

"Because it's safer for everyone that I remain dead."

His stubbornness frustrated her, but Potenziana did not reach her age by wasting her time fighting battles that were not hers to fight.

“I’ve told your brothers and Gazelle not to come here," she said finally. "And they want you to know that they're respecting your wishes because it’s the same for them as it is for me. Nothing haschanged, and we are content to wait until you are ready to come back to us. You are my heir, and you will always be so.”

Giancarlo remained alone on the balcony, his gaze unseeing even as the kingdom’s capital glittered below him. Tomorrow, his grandmother would return to Boston, while he had chosen to stay behind. Viktor would never cause trouble again, and authorities were hunting down the others involved in his crimes.

It was time for hisfamigliato have a new leader.

And time for Sarica to move on with Dauphin Tueur.

A NEW MONTH BEGAN,and life continued. Work required Giancarlo to revisit his estate in Moskra, accompanied by Justina and Sheikh Nassif Al-Mansouri. Information was traded at agreed prices, each of them pursuing their own motives. The sheikh sought the traitor attempting to build Kivr’s first drug cartel. Justina aimed for a high position in Moskra’s intelligence agency. And Giancarlo...

“Why do you want to know more about Dauphin Tueur again?” Justina asked, raising an eyebrow.“Classified.”

“That line only works if you have a position in government,” Nassif drawled, “which you don’t.”

“If this is still about Sarica—”

“It’s not,” Giancarlo denied, his tone clipped.

Nassif gazed at his friend in amusement. “If you truly mean that, perhaps now is a good time to let you know about a mutual acquaintance of ours. He wishes to know if he can ask your ex out—-"

The slim gold pen Giancarlo held snapped in two.

The sheikh’s lips curved. “I rest my case.”

“Are you keeping up with news from Boston?” Justina asked, pulling out her phone. “Because if you have, then you wouldn’t need to ask—”

Giancarlo snatched the phone from her before she could finish. His jaw locked as he scrolled through the latest photos posted by a tabloid account. Sarica, visiting Dauphin’s club night after night, her outfits growing more revealing each time.

He called his grandmother, and Potenziana answered after a single ring. “Buongiorno,bambino.”

“Why are you letting Sarica run wild?” he demanded.

“Why do you think that is any of your business?”

“If this is another dig about my marriage—-”

“It is,” Potenziana acknowledged without shame.

“Justina and I are already divorced,” he grated out. “And even Sarica knows it was not a real marriage—-”

“And if I told you that Sarica and I have made a similar deal, will that be a good enough reason for you? She has agreed to marry whoever I choose for her next—-”

Giancarlo hung up on his grandmother for the first time. Justina and Nassif exchanged glances as he walked out of the conference room without a word.

“How much are you willing to bet he’s on his way to Boston now?” Justina asked, amused.

“I’m afraid I have to decline,” the sheikh said politely. “I don’t take bets I’m guaranteed to lose.”

DAUPHIN TUEUR’S CLUBin New York was everything Giancarlo expected and disliked. Crowded. Loud.Chaotic. Women threw themselves at him, but his attention was fixed on one person.

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