Leo's POV
The whiskey glass shattered against the wall.
I watched the pieces fall to the floor of my office, each one catching the light from the fireplace. The amber liquid dripped down the dark wood like tears. My hand was still shaking from throwing it.
"Feel better?" Victor asked from the doorway.
I didn't turn around. I couldn't look at my brother right now. Not after what he'd just suggested. Not after the crazy idea that came out of his mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Get out," I said.
"Leo, be reasonable."
"Reasonable?" I spun around so fast my chair squeaked. "You just told me to marry a dead woman's sister. How is that reasonable?"
Victor stepped into my office like he owned it. Which, in a way, he did. We both owned pieces of the Cavalcanti empire. But right now, I wished he owned none of it.
"The wedding was supposed to happen in three days," he said, sitting down across from my desk. "Our business partners are expecting it. The Morettis are expecting it. We can't just cancel."
"Alessia is dead!"
"I know that." Victor's voice was calm, like we were talking about the weather. "But business doesn't stop for death."
I wanted to hit him. My own brother, and I wanted to punch him in his perfect face. Victor had always been the smart one, the one who thought about money and deals and partnerships. But this was too much, even for him.
"The girl needs the money," he continued. "Her mother is sick. Hospital bills are piling up. She can't pay them."
"So you're going to force her to marry me?"
"I'm going to offer her a choice."
"That's not a choice. That's blackmail."
Victor shrugged like it didn't matter. "Call it whatever you want. The point is, she'll say yes."
I walked to the window and looked out at the rain. It was still coming down hard, turning the world gray and cold. Just like my heart felt right now.
"I loved Alessia," I said quietly.
"I know."
"How can you ask me to replace her like she was a broken toy?"
"Because that's what men like us do," Victor said. "We do what needs to be done."
I turned back to face him. "Men like us?"
"Don't pretend you're different, Leo. You've killed people. You've broken legs and burned down buildings. You've done terrible things for this family."
He was right, and I hated him for it. I had done terrible things. But never to someone innocent. Never to someone who didn't deserve it.
"This girl is innocent," I said.
"So was Alessia."
The words hit me like a slap. Victor was right again. Alessia had been innocent too, and look what happened to her. She was dead because of me. Because of my world. Because of the bloody envelope in my pocket that I hadn't told anyone about yet.
"The business partners won't wait," Victor said. "They've already paid half the money. If we don't deliver on our promises, they'll think we're weak."
"Let them think that."
"And then they'll come for us. They'll come for you, for me, for everyone in this family. Is that what you want?"
I closed my eyes and tried to think. The Cavalcanti empire was built on deals and handshakes and promises. If we broke those promises, we'd have enemies everywhere. People who wanted us dead.
But marrying Alessia's sister felt wrong. It felt like I was spitting on her grave.
"What's the girl's name?" I asked.
"Bianca."
"Does she know about the deal?"
"Not yet. But she will."
I opened my eyes and looked at my brother. Really looked at him. Victor was older than me by three years, but he looked younger. His dark hair was always perfect, his suits always clean. He smiled a lot, especially when he wanted something.
"Why do you care so much about this wedding?" I asked.
"Because I care about this family."
"Or because you care about the money."
Victor's smile got wider. "Same thing."
There was something in his eyes that made me uncomfortable. Something cold and calculating. But Victor had always been like that. It's what made him good at business.
"I need to think about it," I said.
"Don't think too long. The girl's mother doesn't have much time."
"What do you mean?"
"The doctors say she needs surgery. Expensive surgery. Without it, she'll die in a few weeks."
My stomach twisted. Victor wasn't just offering Bianca a choice. He was putting a gun to her head. Marry me or watch her mother die.
"You're a monster," I said.
"I'm a businessman."
Victor stood up and walked to the door. Then he stopped and pulled something from his jacket. A manila envelope, thick with papers.
"Before you decide," he said, "you should see these."
He dropped the envelope on my desk and left without another word.
I stared at the envelope for a long time. Part of me didn't want to open it. Part of me knew that whatever was inside would change everything.
But I had to know.
I opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of photographs. The first one made me drop the whole pile.
It was Alessia. Or at least, it looked like Alessia. Same dark hair, same brown eyes, same gentle smile. But something was different. The smile was brighter, more alive. The eyes had fire in them instead of softness.
I picked up another photo. Then another. Each one showed the same face, but I could tell it wasn't Alessia. This woman moved differently, held herself differently. She was beautiful in a wild way that Alessia never was.
Bianca.
I spread all the photos across my desk like playing cards. There were dozens of them. Pictures of her walking down the street, sitting in a coffee shop, visiting her mother in the hospital. Someone had been watching her for a long time.
The last photo was different. It showed Bianca standing next to Alessia at what looked like a birthday party. They were holding hands and laughing at something off-camera. They looked so happy, so alive.
So identical.
I picked up that photo and held it close to my face. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn it was the same person twice. The same face, the same body, the same everything.
My hands started shaking again. Not from anger this time, but from something else. Something that scared me more than anger ever could.
Hope.
I could have Alessia back. Not really, but close enough. Close enough to fool everyone else. Close enough to fool myself, maybe.
But it was wrong. It was sick and twisted and wrong.
I was still holding the photo when Victor walked back into my office. He must have been waiting outside, listening.
"She looks exactly like Alessia," he said with that cold smile. "No one will know the difference."