Gianna's mind was still reeling as she stepped out of her grandmother's private sitting room. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, but Elisabetta's words echoed relentlessly in her head."Are you deliberately lying to me, or do you genuinely have no idea who you married?"The question had been asked with such certainty, such knowing conviction, that it had shaken something loose inside Gianna. Her grandmother wasn't given to flights of fancy or empty speculation. If Elisabetta believed Vincent was more than he appeared, then perhaps—"Well, well. If it isn't the blushing bride."Gianna's thoughts shattered as Kevin's voice cut through the hallway. She looked up to find him blocking her path, his expression a mixture of condescension and barely controlled fury."Kevin," she acknowledged coldly. "I thought you'd left already.""Oh no, darling. I wouldn't dream of leaving without having a little chat with your... husband." Kevin's lips curled around the last word like it tasted bitter

More gasps. Rocco's eyes went wide. Even Elisabetta, watching from the doorway of her sitting room, raised her eyebrows at the escalating figures.Vincent remained perfectly calm, his voice still quiet and measured. "Fifty million is certainly impressive.""Then we have a deal?" Kevin extended his hand eagerly."I didn't say that.""What more do you want?" Kevin's desperation was starting to show. "Sixty million? Seventy?""Kevin," Vincent said gently, "you're not understanding the situation.""I understand perfectly! You're holding out for more money, you greedy—""One hundred million," Kevin blurted out, cutting through his own insult. "One hundred million euros. Final offer. You leave the Moretti house tonight and never come back."The silence that followed was absolute. One hundred million euros—the kind of wealth that separated the merely rich from the genuinely powerful. The kind of sum that could change not just a life, but generations.Gianna felt her knees go weak. One hundre

Gianna glared at him, recognizing that he'd somehow won this argument without raising his voice or losing his composure. It was infuriating.They walked in tense silence toward the car, where the driver waited discreetly. Once inside, Gianna retreated to her corner of the back seat, maintaining as much distance as possible from Vincent in the confined space.The city lights flickered past the windows as they drove through the night. Gianna stared out at the passing buildings, her mind churning with questions that refused to stay quiet."What do you do for a living?" she asked abruptly, not looking at him."I told you. Security consulting.""That's vague.""It's accurate."Gianna turned to face him, her expression sharp and calculating. "What kind of security consultant travels around the world, has extensive knowledge of Renaissance art, can spot forgeries that fool Vatican experts, and turns down one hundred million euros like it's pocket change?"Vincent's smile was modest, almost s

Vincent watched Gianna's retreating figure as she headed up the stairs, his expression thoughtful. Her sudden defense of him had been unexpected—mildly surprising, even. Why had she stood up for him against her mother's fury?He kept the question to himself, filing it away for future consideration. People revealed themselves through their actions more than their words, and Gianna's actions tonight had been illuminating."This isn't over!" Isabella's voice echoed from the upper landing, where she'd paused to deliver one final threat. "Not by a long shot! I'll be back, and when I am, you'll both regret this!"With that, she disappeared down the hallway, her angry footsteps fading into silence.Gianna stopped halfway up the stairs, her hand gripping the bannister tightly. Without turning around, she spoke in a cold, clipped tone."Vincent.""Yes?""What you did tonight at Nonna's party—don't do it again."Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what you're referring to.""You know exactl

Vincent's eyes remained locked on the approaching bodyguards, his voice carrying a note of disappointment. "Kevin, did you learn nothing from what happened to Rocco?"Kevin's laugh was sharp and mocking. "This isn't Nonna's party, beggar. You don't have a crowd to perform for or witnesses to protect you.""I wasn't performing," Vincent replied calmly. "And I don't need protection.""We'll see about that," Kevin sneered, gesturing his men forward. "Break him."Four bodyguards had accompanied Kevin—two now stepped forward while the others hung back slightly.The first two were massive, their suits straining against muscled shoulders, their faces set in professional menace.Vincent didn't move from his position in the doorway.He simply looked at them—really looked—with the cold, assessing gaze of someone who had commanded elite special forces and survived countless combat situations.The effect was immediate and visceral.Two of the bodyguards who had been hanging back suddenly found re