Page 49 of Brutal Monster
This is the Bravo way. Even on the day I become a wife, I remain what I've always been first—a survivor.
I slide the pearl-handled gun into the hidden holster beneath my dress, the weight familiar against my thigh. A bride with secrets. A leader with steel.
"I'll go to him now," I tell them. "Keep searching."
The grand staircase stretches before me, a descent into my future. Each step deliberate and measured, the fabric of my gown whispering against the marble. Guards line the walls, eyes forward, hands ready. My people. My protection.
When I reach the bottom, I hear the hiss of the oxygen tank and the tap of the cane. My father emerges from his study, each movement a battle against his failing body. Juan Bravo, once the most feared man in three countries, now fights for each breath. But his eyes—they remain unchanged. Sharp. Calculating. Proud.
"Inez." His voice rasps like sandpaper on stone. "Mija."
I cross the room to reach him, careful not to move too quickly. His fragility is something neither of us acknowledges aloud. "Papá."
"You are..." He pauses, struggling for breath, the tank hissing beside him. "Magnificent."
The compliment lands like an unexpected blow. I blink, composure momentarily fractured. "Thank you."
He gestures toward his study with a trembling hand. "A moment. Before the circus begins."
Inside, the room smells of leather and medicine. My father lowers himself into his chair, the effort making his face gray beneath his tan. I remain standing, back straight, waiting. Always waiting for his judgment.
"They said I was a fool," he says finally. "Choosing you over Emilio. A daughter over a son. But I knew." His eyes lock withmine. "I always knew you were the one who would carry this family forward."
"Adan is missing," I tell him. No point in hiding it. "There was blood."
He nods, unsurprised. "He will come for you. Today, perhaps. Tomorrow, certainly."
"I'm ready."
"I know." A smile cracks his weathered face. "That's why I chose you. The empire—my empire—it needs your kind of strength now. Not Emilio’s rage or Adan’s cruelty. It needs your calculation."
The weight of his words settles on my shoulders alongside the heavy beading of my dress. "I won't fail you."
"You never have." He reaches for something in his desk drawer, movements painful to watch. "This was your mother's."
A small box appears in his shaking hand. Inside, a simple platinum band with a letter B spelled in emeralds.
I slip it onto my right hand, the metal cool against my skin. "A wedding gift?"
"A reminder." He takes a labored breath. "Even in your new alliance, remember—you are a Bravo first. My daughter. My legacy."
The door opens. Lucia stands there, face tight. "Sir. Ma'am. The groom has arrived."
My father struggles to his feet, refusing my offered hand. "Let me walk you down that aisle, Inez. Let them all see that Juan Bravo gives his empire to his daughter with pride."
I take his arm, feeling the tremor in his muscles, the determination in his grip. Together, we move toward the door, toward my future, toward the empire that will soon be mine alone to command.
And somewhere, perhaps watching even now, Adan waits with his wounds and his hatred. Let him come. Today I become a wife, but I've been a warrior much longer.
CHAPTER TWENTY
VANYA
The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and dahlias as I stand beneath the canopy of flowers. White roses intertwine with orchids above me, casting dappled shadows across the makeshift altar. Behind me, the gulf stretches endlessly blue, waves crashing against the cliffs below the compound. Perfect backdrop for a wedding. Ideal cover for armed guards positioned at every vantage point.
"Stop fidgeting," Mikhail mutters beside me. "You look like you're waiting for a firing squad, not your bride."
I shoot him a cold glance. "I don't fidget."
