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His Son was sad. For him.
Does My death on the cross mean that little to you?
Giancarlo's eyes squeezed shut. It meant everything.Everything.But how could he still live, knowing that he would be a burden to the people he loved?
I didn't die for You to replace me as someone else's savior.
I died to save you.
I died in order for you to live.
Giancarlo's powerful body began to shake, and his attackers laughed. They all thought fear had finally overcome him, but on this they could not be more wrong. For it was understanding that crashed through Giancarlo like a tidal wave.
When you are weak, you are strong.
Because of Me.
Remember?
What Sarica andLa Stregahad been trying to tell him—-but what Giancarlo had been too lost in his own self-pity to comprehend—-suddenly became blindingly clear.
Fear had made Giancarlo see himself in one of his father's men, a man whose limp had prevented him from protecting his master.
Just as Giancarlo's injury had kept him from reaching Sarica in time.
Self-pity and stupid pride had made Giancarlo see his injury as a physical weakness.
But what it truly exposed was the weakness of his faith.
Giancarlo had thought himself strong because of his own abilities.
But such strength had limits and imperfections.
Human strength failed and expired...while God's strength was infallible and infinite.
Giancarlo had forgotten that with Him by his side, he had more than enough, and there was nothing for him to fear.
He had God.
God.
And just as this truth united Giancarlo's mind and heart, body and soul—-
That was when Cesare burst into the alley like an avenging angel, his massively letha frame filling the narrow space, and his signature brutality on full display as he carved a path with calculated swings of his powerful fists.
In his wake emerged Massimo, his coldly charming smile never slipping as he easily sidestepped the an enemy's blade. His every move was taunting but precise, and one stab was all it took for his opponents to crumple. Sedated but not poisoned, and they had God to thank for Massimo's changed heart.
From the shadows came two more: Ezio, whose stealthy aways made him seem one with darkness, and Lorenzo, his sister's husband, who was not called the Beast of New York for nothing.
Their eyes met across the violence, his brothers' gazes fierce with meaning. It was their turn to prove to Giancarlo that they were no longer defenseless and reliant on him for protection. Their chance to let their eldest brother know that it did not matter if Giancarlo had briefly lost his way.
God is on our side, fratello.
That is our strength.
So come back and lead us again.
Strength like he had never known blazed through him, and Giancarlo was able to overthrow the men holding him back with a roar. He turned around, intending to help his brothers—-