Page 50 of Brutal Heir (Ruthless Heirs #3)

ONE OF A KIND

A lessandro

The air inside my father’s office is sharper than usual. Clean. Cold. Deceptively calm. Or maybe it’s just the icy anxiety coursing through my veins at the thought of leaving Rory for even a few hours. And despite the troop of guards I left at the penthouse to protect her.

Papà sits behind his polished desk, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. His tailored suit is unwrinkled, his gaze razor-sharp beneath silver-streaked hair. He looks every bit the man who built the Gemini empire from the ground up.

Too bad I’m about to drop a bomb on him.

Hell, it kind of surprised me too when I came up with the idea. But nothing has ever felt so right…

He glances up when I enter, brow lifting like he already knows something’s coming.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” he mumbles around a sip. “Everything back to normal at the Velvet Vault?”

“I’m not here about business.”

His expression flattens, the tumbler settling on the desk with a soft clink. “What is it?”

I don’t sit. I plant myself in front of him and meet his stare head-on. “I’m marrying Rory.”

Silence. Thick and heavy.

“If she’ll have me, that is,” I amend. Knowing her, she’ll give me a ton of shite about it.

He leans back slowly, brows drawing together. “You’re doing what?”

“I’m marrying her. As soon as possible.” The words echo in the space between us like a challenge.

“For fuck’s sake, Ale.” He lets out a sharp breath and rubs his temple. “I knew that little Irish girl had her hooks in you, but I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

My jaw tightens. “This isn’t about hooks,” I hiss, raking my hand through my hair. “ Cazzo , Papà don’t talk about her like that.”

“She lied to you. She dragged a war to your front door. There’s a price on her head. And now you want to tie her to this family? Legally?”

“Exactly,” I bite out. “Legally. That’s the point.”

His brow twitches.

“If something goes sideways with the Quinlans or the O’Sheas, or if Conall gets bold, if she’s ever arrested, tracked, hurt, I need a legal leg to stand on. I need her protected under the Rossi name. And the fastest way to do that is to make her mine, officially.”

Papà exhales slowly, weighing the burden of what I’ve said.

But I don’t stop there.

“Yes, part of this is strategy,” I continue. “But the rest? The real reason?” I place my palms on his desk and lean forward. “It’s because I fucking love her.”

His eyes narrow. “Love fades.”

“Not this kind,” I snap. “Not when she’s the one who put me back together after the fire. Not when she held me together through the pain, the burns, the nightmares.”

I straighten up, voice quieting but no less intense.

“She didn’t see a monster when I was at my lowest. She saw me. She saved me when I didn’t think I was worth saving. And now, I get the chance to do the same for her.”

He goes still.

“She’s being hunted like an animal, Papà . If we don’t stand behind her, who the hell will?”

He picks up the tumbler again but doesn’t drink. Just swirls it, watching the amber liquid catch the light. His voice is softer when he finally speaks.

“You sound like me when I first told your uncle I was actually in love with your mother. As you know, he’d forced me into marrying her for the sake of the Geminis. We hated each other at first but then…”

A beat passes.

“You remember the stories we told you? About the arranged marriage with the Four Seas? Everyone said it would be a liability. A distraction. That she’d cost me my empire.” His lips curl into something between a smile and a scowl. “Turns out she became the only reason I held onto it.”

“I know,” I murmur. “And that’s what Rory is to me.” I pause, then draw in a steadying breath to really hit it home. “You loved Mā through the fire, through the hatred and the betrayal, even through the internal war within the Four Seas. I only want the chance to do the same.”

His gaze sharpens again. “So you’re not asking for permission.”

“No,” I answer. “I’m telling you. Because I respect you. And because I didn’t want you to hear about it after the fact.”

A long silence stretches between us.

Then, finally, Marco leans back in his chair, nods once, and mutters, “ Cazzo , then marry her.”

Relief ripples through me, though I try not to show it.

“But do it quietly,” he adds. “And have Matteo lock down every piece of paper attached to her name. The Irish can sniff out weakness faster than a goddamn shark in blood.”

“I already asked him.”

My father’s mouth twitches. “Of course you did.”

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.

“She better be worth it, Alessandro.”

I glance back over my shoulder. “She is.”

And I don’t say it, but we both know what I really mean.

She’s everything .

The scent of polished wood and new velvet hits me the moment I step into Harry Winston’s Fifth Avenue flagship store. It’s a world of glimmering glass, pristine spotlights, and absurdly high security. All of it hums with quiet, curated wealth.

Normally, I’d hate a place like this. But today? Today, I’m here to find a ring for the woman I’m going to marry.

Not if she says yes.

When she says yes.

Because she will. She has to.

Still, my chest tightens as I walk toward the glittering displays.

Not from the price tags because I couldn’t care less what it costs, but from the importance of it all.

This isn’t just a strategy anymore. It started that way, sure.

The other night as I held her in bed, both of us naked, tangled in each other, my thoughts spun.

Because the idea of losing her was no longer acceptable.

So as I lay there, planning how to keep her alive and with me forever, it came to me.

A legal move. A way to shield her from Conall, to wrap her in the Rossi name like armor.

But now…

Now, I want to be sure she understands it means more.

I want to give her everything she’s never had. Security, yes, but also joy. A choice. Something she never had with Conall. A home. A man who will worship the very ground she walks on. A ring that tells the world she belongs to someone who finally sees her. Who adores her.

Someone who would burn the world to protect her.

“Good afternoon, sir,” a sales associate croons, appearing from behind the counter with practiced elegance. Blonde, mid-forties, pearls at her neck. “I’m Evelyn. How can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for an engagement ring.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my coat to keep from fidgeting. “Something… different.”

Her brows lift just slightly, curiosity piqued. “Of course. Do you have something specific in mind?”

“No.” I step closer to the case. Diamonds blink up at me from every angle, brilliant and lifeless all at once. “It has to be unique. Fiery. Something bold, but still elegant. Regal, in a way.”

She tilts her head. “Tell me about her.”

And just like that, I can’t stop my lips from moving.

“She’s got auburn hair, wild and untamed.

Like she’s never been able to sit still.

She swears too much, drinks too much coffee, and thinks I’m a pain in the ass half the time.

” A smile curves my lips despite the tightness in my chest. “But she’s fierce.

Loyal. Stronger than anyone I know. She survived a monster, escaped a life that tried to own her, and still looks at me like I’m the one who saved her. ”

When it was the complete opposite.

I clear my throat, feeling raw and uncomfortably exposed. “She’s Irish. From Belfast originally. Her name’s Rory.” Well, Brigid technically, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to call her that. Even though it’s oddly appropriate since she was named after some goddess who breathes fire.

Evelyn’s eyes soften. “Sounds like quite the woman.”

“She is.”

“And you want something that feels like her.”

I nod. “Exactly.”

She disappears behind a velvet curtain and returns a minute later holding a small leather box like it holds the Holy Grail.

“This,” she says, setting it on the counter and flipping it open with a reverence that makes my heart stutter, “is from our heritage collection. The center stone is a rare emerald, deep green, but with fire beneath the surface. It’s flanked by two pear-shaped diamonds and set in a platinum band with Celtic knotwork etched along the sides. Handmade. One of a kind.”

The light catches the stone, and something in my chest clenches.

It’s perfect.

Fiery. Regal. Irish to its core.

Just like her.

“She won’t expect this,” I murmur, staring at the emerald like it’s already hers.

“Then it’ll mean even more when you give it to her.”

I’m pulling out my wallet and swiping my black card from my wallet without a second thought. “Wrap it up. She’s going to say yes.”

She smiles softly. “She’d have to be crazy not to.”

And I hope like hell Evelyn is right. Because I’m not just buying a ring.

I’m claiming a future with the only woman who’s ever made me feel whole.