Page 56 of Die for You
I had really fucking tried. So I gave up and focused on something I could change—and that was Gianna’s power.
I lived and breathed to ruin her and her empire, and succeeded. I overthrew her. I stole her men. But she always remained two steps ahead, where I could never catch her. Somehow, she always knew I was coming.
Eventually, she faded away, but I knew she was laying low and licking her wounds and waiting for me to fuck up.
She sent Valentina in hopes I would crumble.
But we were both different people.
Time had passed, and we had grown.
Her loyalty hadn’t shifted from Gianna, but her motives had changed. It seemed she fought because she had to, not because she wanted to.
If we wanted each other dead, we would be. But instead, we’ve played this game of cat and mouse for years. I thought nostalgia held us back.
But I was wrong.
And this is why what’s-his-face was shot in the head because he made the fatal mistake of mentioning Valentina’s name, claiming he knew where she was because Gianna had told him. I called bullshit, but thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
But as always, I can only rely on myself.
I pick up Bria’s favorite bottle of red on the way home. Apparently, we’re having a business meeting with a new investor. This is Bria’s project, so I’m interested to see who has sparked her interest since she usually is a little more cautious than this.
But if she believes this person to be beneficial to us, then I am happy to hear their pitch.
I pull in front of our steel gates, nodding at Rodney, our gate guard. “Evening, Mr. Shepherd.”
After the gates open, I drive up the winding driveway, and when my home comes into view, a sense of fulfillment overwhelms me because I built this from the ground up. This is on the back of the sacrifices I made.
But something is always missing…just how it always is.
The white mansion displays wealth, but is tasteful. The many arched windows give it aGone with the Windfeel. The upper level, which houses Bria’s and my bedroom, features beautiful ornate doors that open to a wraparound balcony.
The Roman pillars supporting the peaked roof of the balcony only add to the rustic charm.
The gardens are manicured, but I’ve ensured there are no places for an intruder to conceal themselves. So everything is kept short.
My home is exquisite, but as I have learned over the years, beauty is nothing if there is ugliness within. And regardless of this beauty, horror resides because of the darkness within me, which only grows every single day.
I pull into the large garage and park the car among the many others I have.
I don’t forget the wine and enter the house through the garage door. I hear Bria chuckling. It seems our guests have arrived.
They’re in the kitchen, and who I see sitting at the counter has me stopping dead in my tracks because he looks familiar—I just don’t know how.
“Darling,” Bria says, rushing over and kissing my cheek.
I stand frozen, eyeing the distinguished older gentleman. “Who are you?”
“Lenny,” Bria gently warns, reading my apprehension immediately. “This is Francesco, an old friend of my father’s.”
And that is why he looks familiar—Aldo suspected him to be Valentina’s father.
Bria read the files. Has she connected the dots that this is potentially Valentina’s kin?
Instantly, I retrieve the gun from the small of my back and point it at Francesco. “You have three seconds to tell me why you’re really here.”
“Lenny!” Bria exclaims, attempting to lower my arm. It seems she’s forgotten her father’s findings.
