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“I know you don't want to hear this, but Gastone was right to separate you. The Lebedevs aren't people we can trust. Whatever this Giovanni showed you—it wasn't real.”

“You don't know him,” I protested.

“No, but I know what his family has done,” Carlo insisted.

Dino nodded in agreement, but his expression was softer than Gastone's had been. “Did he hurt you when you ended things?”

“No,” I whispered. “He just... accepted it.”

This detail seemed to surprise them both.

“Well,” Dino said at last, “at least he had the decency to let you walk away cleanly.”

It wasn't the defense of Gio I'd hoped for, but it wasn't the condemnation Gastone had delivered either. A tiny opening I could work with.

***

Over the next few days, I implemented my plan. I had noticed that, even though Gastone couldn’t be reasoned with, Dino and Carlo were a different story altogether. Perhaps if I could bring them under my wing, we could present a united front, forcing Gastone to acknowledge the truth.

That is, when I delivered it to them.

The fact that I was pregnant with Gio’s child and loved him with all my heart.

The plan wasn’t confrontational. It simply involved leaving little breadcrumbs that might challenge my brothers' preconceptions of the Lebedevs.

I started with the emerald earrings Gio had given me, casually leaving them on the dining table one night.

“These are beautiful,” Carlo remarked at breakfast, lifting one to examine it. “New?”

I nodded, buttering my toast. “A gift.”

“From who?” Gastone demanded, his focus on me now.

“Giovanni Lebedev,” I answered, meeting his gaze steadily.

The silence that followed was brittle.

“You accepted jewelry from him?” Gastone's voice was dangerously quiet.

“He was generous,” I lied smoothly. “I was going to return them, but...”

“But what?” Gastone pressed.

I shrugged. “They're too pretty to give back.”

Carlo chuckled, diffusing some of the tension. “She's got you there.”

Gastone scowled but said nothing more.

Next came the photographs. I had printed several from my phone—pictures from the day I took Gio to the orphanage supported by my family. Children climbing all over him, his concentrated expression as he helped a boy with homework. I left them mixed with the mail on the hallway table.

Dino found them first. “What's this?”

“Oh, just some photos from the orphanage we support,” I said casually as I passed by. “Gio came along with me when I visited.

He flipped through them with a frown. “The Lebedevs visiting an orphanage? That's rich.”

“Actually, they fund many charitable causes,” I corrected.