The thing is, Damian was an idiot.
He had never noticed the way his brother, Lorenzo, looked at me—with an intensity that was far from brotherly.
I sent a single text message:
"Tonight. The Serpent's Kiss. Alone."
The usually cold and unapproachable Lorenzo replied instantly.
"Wait for me."
That night, I arrived at the club in a black, backless gown, commanding the attention of the entire room.
Some Soldati who didn't recognize me whistled. A few even tried to hit on me, getting a little too handsy.
"Hey beautiful, you alone?"
The man approached, his hand reaching for my waist, but he was stopped before he could make contact.
"Get lost!"
Lorenzo's voice was, as always, ice-cold.
As if shrouded in frost.
"Hey, who the hell do you think you are?!"
Facing a man who looked like the Grim Reaper himself, the guy was still posturing, until someone behind him cried out in alarm:
"Do you have a death wish? That's Lorenzo Falcone, the Executioner!"
The words had barely left his lips before the man scrambled away in terror.
A faint smile played on my lips.
Everyone knew the Falcone family had two sons.
The elder son was not to be trifled with, a walking god of death who kept everyone at arm's length.
The younger son was warm and handsome, publicly perceived as a doting husband and the dream man of countless young women.
The two brothers were night and day.
He watched as I raised my glass of whiskey, offering him a silent toast from across the room.
Lorenzo immediately took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
"That design competition I organized for you... I didn't see your name. Why didn't you participate?"
I took a light sip from my glass.
"Haven't you heard?"
"I'm not a designer anymore."
After I had proposed the divorce, Damian had given me three conditions.
The first was for me to give up my property and shares.
The property was our marital home, which I never wanted anyway.
The shares were dividends from the Falcone family after our marriage.
Every time I received that money, I donated it to charity, so it made no difference to me if it was gone.
But the second condition was for me to close my design studio.
Damian pulled some strings and gave my studio's client list and ongoing projects to Scarlett.
After that, she was the one who entered the fashion design competition.
She didn't win.
I just hadn't expected the competition to have been organized by Lorenzo.
"Let's talk about you."
I put down my glass and tilted my head with a smile.
"Lorenzo, I hear you're going to marry Scarlett, an arranged marriage with her family?"
"She cried herself half to death when she heard she was being promised to you."
Lorenzo stared straight at me.
"What, are you here to plead her case?"
