I’ll do whatever it takes to get her in my arms, even kill my brother.
I’ll do everything in my power to destroy all who came between us.
The second I held the wedding photo of Giada with my brother, my revenge became tainted with possessiveness so profound that I grew colder. Calculating. Obsessed.
I’d do anything to get my desire. To taste her.
Giada is mine, and it didn’t matter the how or why, because she just is. I’ll play her name in my head—my sirens song—as I remove her from my brother’s grasp and take her for my own.
One by one, I’d get my vendetta on those who sent me away while claiming what was never theirs.