I wear his name like a scar.
Alessandro Rossi stole everything from me; my freedom, my future, the lie I told my father to keep him alive. He thinks I'm a tool to be used, a bride to be displayed, a Fraga to be broken. He thinks the ring on my finge...
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"The fuck are you saying, Miguel?" Alessandro snarled, his hand locking around Miguel's arm before he could storm back into Diego's office. "The fuck are you saying?"
Miguel ripped free with a violent jerk, his face inches from Alessandro's, his words deadly in their certainty. "I'm saying Diego Rossi was the one who killed my father, Alessandro. My father."
Alessandro shifted, placing his body in front of the door like a brick wall barrier. Miguel's hand clutched his gun as if it had been forged there, and I knew him too well to believe reason could pry it from his grasp. He was consumed, and Alessandro's defiance only sharpened his rage.
Memories surged through me with brutal clarity. Uncle Manuel's blood pooling beneath him, after saving my mother from a kidnapping attempt. They told us they never uncovered who ordered the hit, who tried to take her and instead murdered him. Twenty years of silence. Twenty years of questions. Now the truth stood before us, raw and poisonous.
Miguel's chest rose with fury as he spat, "I don't give a fuck if he's your father, Alessandro. I will kill him myself."
Alessandro's reply cracked through the hall, his voice jagged with rage that barely contained itself. "If he's guilty, then I will deal with him. Blood or no blood, I won't hesitate."
Miguel's jaw worked furiously as if he were grinding the truth into bone. "You will never get the chance. The Commission would burn you alive before they let you take down the Don."
Alessandro's lip curled, contempt flickering across his face. "Let me worry about the Commission."
The silence between them stretched, until Miguel shifted just enough to give Alessandro passage. Alessandro threw the door open, stepped inside, and shut it with finality.
Miguel paced beside me, fury radiating off him like fire that devoured the air. He had waited years for this revelation, and now that the truth lived in daylight, his anger was no longer contained.
"Miguel," I said, my voice cutting rather than soft, "como soubeches que era Diego quen...? (how did you know it was Diego who...?)"
He stopped, his glare burning into me, his voice rising until it echoed. "O cabrón miroume directamente aos ollos, Yesenia (The bastard looked me straight in the eyes)." His voice broke into a roar. "El presumiu coma se gañase unha puta lotería! (He bragged about it like he had won a fucking lottery!)"
My stomach twisted with disgust. A man who could take a life and find joy in it, who could boast about destruction, wasn't simply ruthless, he was rotten to his core. Diego had always been venom, and now the poison showed itself without disguise.
