Page 44 of Brutal Heir
I clench my jaw. “That’s enough.”
He turns to me, calm as ever, the way only a man used to always getting what he wants can be. “Think about it, Ale. The Vault is a playground. Run it to the ground if you must for a few years, but Gemini... Gemini is your legacy. And youwillembrace it.”
He taps the envelope once before sliding it under his arm. “I’ll have this back to you tomorrow.” Then he straightens, adjusts the cuff of his thousand-dollar suit, and walks to the door like he hasn’t just split the floor open beneath my feet.
Rory doesn’t speak until he’s gone. When the crack of the front door closing echoes all the way to the office, she turns to me. “You okay?”
I glance down at my hand. The pain is already dulling, but the pressure in my chest only grows.
“No,” I murmur. “Not even close.”
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t try to pretend otherwise.
“You know, you don’t have to be the Gemini heir.” Those fiery orbs meet mine. “Just because our parents laid out our future, doesn’t mean we have to blindly follow it.”
There’s something about the furrow in her brow, the tight set of her jaw, and the darkness in her gaze that confirms her words are much more than just empty encouragement. What bleak future did Rory Delaney escape from?
“I know,” I finally mumble. “But a part of me can’t help but think he’s right. He and my uncle worked so hard to build Gemini Corporation from the ground up. I’d hate to see their dream die without someone to lead the company into the future.”
“Hey, listen, your Da seems like he’s in no rush to retire. You’ve got time to figure it all out, Alessandro. You’ve already been through a lot, and it’s not right for him to put this on you.” Her hand finds mine on the desk, squeezing gently. “Gemini was his dream. The Velvet Vault can be yours.”
I nod slowly, decision made. She’s right, but so isPapà. I can’t just sit around the penthouse wasting away. I’m ready to go back to the Vault. Even if part of me wonders if it’s to reclaim my kingdom or to burn it down before it crumbles without me.
CHAPTER 19
WHO HURT YOU?
Rory
This morning’s physical therapy session has been particularly brutal, and with his usual therapist gone today, I’m left with the job of helping Alessandro through it all. I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. He’s pushing himself too hard, and I can’t understand why the sudden change.
He’s already sweating by the time we make it to the parallel bars and the staircase just beyond.
His left hand grips the cold metal tight enough to make his knuckles white, while his right, wrapped in a pressure glove to keep the scar tissue flat, trembles against his thigh.
“Let’s just try a few steps today,” I whisper gently standing only a foot away from him. “Then we’ll call it.”
“No,” he grits out. “I’m doing the whole flight of stairs.”
Typical stubborn bastard. He can barely keep his balance, and he wants to conquer Everest. He refused to bring the wheelchair today, and I admire his dedication but I’m also worried.
“Alessandro,” I warn, stepping in close, “if your grafts tear?—”
“Then they tear.” His voice is ice and fire, sharp enough to slice through the air between us. “I’m not going to be a fucking invalid the rest of my life.”
I breathe through the flare of frustration. This isn’t new. Every session is a battle, not with his body, but with his pride.
“You’re not,” I say, quietly, even though we’re the only two people in the massive space. “But if you keep pushing like this, you could undo everything. You don’t get to brute-force your way through recovery.” Unlike everything else in his life.
He doesn’t answer. Just looks away. Jaw clenched. Shoulders twitching with tension.
But I see it, the flicker of something deeper. Shame. Fear.
I step closer, voice soft. “You still think needing help makes you weak?”
His lips press into a hard line. I don’t wait for an answer.
“You survived something most people wouldn’t. You’re here. That’s not weakness, Alessandro. That’s strength.” Even though I’ve said it dozens of times, in moments like these, he seems to need the reminder.
