Page 4 of Her Brutal First Love

Giancarlo removed the vest from the mannequin, inspecting it for damage. There was none.

"See for yourself,signore," Nassif invited mockingly before turning to Naaman with a new set of instructions. "Keep an eye on our friend tonight. The royal army will want a full report. If he survives, we’ll begin mass production. If not..." He gave Giancarlo a courteous bow. "No expense will be spared for your funeral. Thank you for your service to our beloved kingdom."

AS GIANCARLO STEPPEDinto the night, the city of Cayed awaited—a slumbering beast by day, its windows shuttered, its streets empty and silent. But when the moon rose, the city camealive. Iron lanterns flickered to life, casting golden pools of light on cobblestone streets. Sandstone-walled alleys buzzed with activity as the night unlocked the hearts of its residents, freeing them to break every rule.

Cayed was a place beyond the reach of the royal army, a stronghold for the lords of crime. It was where the wicked thrived, where shadows whispered secrets, and where deals were struck in the dark. If you sought to do evil, there was only one place to go.

Cayed.

And Cayed alone.

DESERT-FACING MOSQUESchimed midnight as Giancarlo came face to face with the entity that had shaken the criminal underworld.

Why offer a hundred mil just for information about him?

And why offer another hundred if he were captured alive?

The name "Seijcut" seemed to hint at Japanese ancestry, but it was only after weeks' worth of studying the entity's every move did Giancarlo realize the name was a play on the word 'justice'...which consequently led to even more unanswered questions.

Was all of this retribution for a past wrong?

A vendetta against hisfamiglia?

Or could Giancarlo represent unfinished business... since it was Seijcut who had attempted but failed to kill him the first time around?

The questions burned in Giancarlo’s mind as he studied the masked figure before him. They stared at each other...and then—-

Now!

Giancarlo lunged first, gaining a fleeting advantage.

But Seijcut recovered quickly, and what followed was a brutal dance of fists, blades, and kicks.

Each move was anticipated, every strike countered with precision.

It was as if they were reading each other’s minds, their movements mirroring one another in a deadly rhythm.

Finally, Giancarlo seized his moment.

He ripped the mask from Seijcut’s face, and even the darkness of the night held its breath as if even it dared not disturb the moment.

Why must it be you?

Chapter Two

The best time to learn about pain was when you were hurting too much to feel anything.

When your heart was torn out of your chest, there was nothing else for the enemy to target.

Nothing in your body that knew what it meant to fear.

All you had left was a brain that calculated the odds...plus a body that had been trainednonstopin the past three months by none other than the Prince of Killers himself.

The man had been merciless even as she had cried and screamed in front of him. But she realized now that all those seemingly endless hours of combat training were worth every second. If not for his brutal conditioning (and reconditioning), she would have been dead a long, long time ago.

Then again, maybe death was already knocking on her door, with how tonight was currently shaping up.

Every strike of her opponent was like an echo from the past—frustratingly fluid, eerily precise, and devastatingly familiar.

---