Page 84 of Brutal Vows

“Notjusthanding it over,” I correct him. “I’m giving it to the only man I trust to run it the way it should be run.”

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his dark hair. I see the war in his eyes. He’s always been my right hand, my shadow, the man who stood beside me through every battle, every war, every blood-soaked decision. And now I’m asking him to step into the light. To be the king instead of the blade that guards him.

“I don’t know if I want this, V.” His voice is quieter now, hesitant.

I knew he’d say that.

Dario never wanted power. He was content in the background, enforcing my will, ensuring my enemies fell before they could become a real problem. He was the strategist, the ghost, the one who made sure no loose ends were left behind. But he’s also the only one capable of doing what needs to be done.

“You’re the only one who can keep this from falling apart,” I tell him. “If I dissolve the De Luca empire, it’ll create a power vacuum that’ll get a lot of people killed. But ifyoutake control, the transition will be seamless. You’ve always been like a brother to me.”

He rubs a hand over his face, muttering a curse under his breath. “And what the hell are you going to do, huh? Walk away from all of this? Pretend like you don’t have blood in your veins?”

I give him a knowing look. “You already know the answer to that.”

His jaw clenches.

I stand, moving around the desk until I’m in front of him. “Gia is my priority now,” I say firmly. “Italy holdstoo much pain for her and honestly, I don’t think I ever planned on taking the seat back. I wanted revenge and now I have it. I have the brotherhood and with you here, in Italy, all of us will become more powerful. Together.”

Something flickers in his gaze—understanding, maybe. A silent acknowledgment of all the things we’ve built back in America. Dario has never felt at home in Miami like I do. He’s always longed to walk the cobblestone streets and surround himself with the beauty our ancestors built.

We both knew this life would never let us go. But this is the closest I can come to walking away.

Dario exhales heavily, looking around the office, taking in what this means. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

A beat of silence.

Then, finally, he nods. Just once.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll run it. But don’t expect me to start wearing suits and making speeches.”

A smirk tugs at my lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He shakes his head, muttering another curse before extending his hand. “You really trust me with all of this?”

I grip his hand tightly. “With my life.”

And just like that, the De Luca empire changes hands.

Forty-Three

Two weeks.

Two weeks of Vitali hovering over me like a goddamn mother hen, watching my every move as if I might shatter into a million pieces. At first, it was sweet. Comforting, even. But now? Now it’s making me insane.

I stretch out on the couch, wincing slightly as my ribs protest the movement. They’re healing, but they still ache, a dull reminder of everything I went through. Of everything we survived.

Vitali, who had been standing near the window, turns the second he hears my sharp inhale.

“You’re in pain.” His voice is laced with concern, his brows furrowed as he moves toward me.

“I’m fine,” I sigh, resting my head back against the cushions. “It’s just a little sore.”

His jaw tightens, and I know that look. He’s about two seconds away from demanding I take more pain meds, wrap myself in bubble wrap, and never leave his sight again.

“Vitali,” I say gently, grabbing his wrist before he can start fussing over me again. “You need to stop.”

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