~RICCARDO~

I've always been the quiet one.

The calm one.

The brother who doesn't speak unless he must. The one they think won't snap.

But quiet doesn't mean soft.

And tonight? The quiet one is ready to kill.

I sit still. Too still.

The wine glass in my hand trembling slightly, the steam threatening to snap.

I'm watching him.

That man. That bastard. That walking stain.

Giacomo Morreti.

He oozes into the chair beside Elena like he's already claimed her. His eyes roam over her like ...