Page 126 of Brutal Heir
My father’s mouth twitches. “Of course you did.”
I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.
“She better be worth it, Alessandro.”
I glance back over my shoulder. “She is.”
And I don’t say it, but we both know what I really mean.
She’s everything.
The scent of polished wood and new velvet hits me the moment I step into Harry Winston’s Fifth Avenue flagship store. It’s a world of glimmering glass, pristine spotlights, and absurdly high security. All of it hums with quiet, curated wealth.
Normally, I’d hate a place like this. But today? Today, I’m here to find a ring for the woman I’m going to marry.
Notifshe says yes.
Whenshe says yes.
Because she will. She has to.
Still, my chest tightens as I walk toward the glittering displays. Not from the price tags because I couldn’t care less what it costs, but from the importance of it all. This isn’t just a strategy anymore. It started that way, sure. The other night as I held her in bed, both of us naked, tangled in each other,my thoughts spun. Because the idea of losing her was no longer acceptable. So as I lay there, planning how to keep her alive and with me forever, it came to me. A legal move. A way to shield her from Conall, to wrap her in the Rossi name like armor.
But now…
Now, I want to be sure she understands it means more.
I want to give her everything she’s never had. Security, yes, but also joy. A choice. Something she never had with Conall. A home. A man who will worship the very ground she walks on. A ring that tells the world she belongs to someone who finally sees her. Who adores her.
Someone who would burn the world to protect her.
“Good afternoon, sir,” a sales associate croons, appearing from behind the counter with practiced elegance. Blonde, mid-forties, pearls at her neck. “I’m Evelyn. How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for an engagement ring.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my coat to keep from fidgeting. “Something… different.”
Her brows lift just slightly, curiosity piqued. “Of course. Do you have something specific in mind?”
“No.” I step closer to the case. Diamonds blink up at me from every angle, brilliant and lifeless all at once. “It has to be unique. Fiery. Something bold, but still elegant. Regal, in a way.”
She tilts her head. “Tell me about her.”
And just like that, I can’t stop my lips from moving.
“She’s got auburn hair, wild and untamed. Like she’s never been able to sit still. She swears too much, drinks too much coffee, and thinks I’m a pain in the ass half the time.” A smile curves my lips despite the tightness in my chest. “But she’s fierce. Loyal. Stronger than anyone I know. She survived a monster, escaped a life that tried to own her, and still looks at me like I’m the one who saved her.”
When it was the complete opposite.
I clear my throat, feeling raw and uncomfortably exposed. “She’s Irish. From Belfast originally. Her name’s Rory.” Well, Brigid technically, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to call her that. Even though it’s oddly appropriate since she was named after some goddess who breathes fire.
Evelyn’s eyes soften. “Sounds like quite the woman.”
“She is.”
“And you want something that feels like her.”
I nod. “Exactly.”
She disappears behind a velvet curtain and returns a minute later holding a small leather box like it holds the Holy Grail.
