BIANCA’S POV
I had only met him for a couple of minutes, but I felt a bone-deep sense of satisfaction at Ricardo's calmness shaking. It was clear that Giovanni's presence had rattled him, and it was immensely gratifying to watch the cracks form in his smooth exterior.
“You didn’t raise me,” Giovanni shot back, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. “That was all on Sandro. You always disappeared just to show up and throw tantrums every now and then.”
Ricardo’s eyebrows furrowed even further, almost looking like he had one continuous unibrow, and for a second, I thought he might actually lose it. But instead, he drew in a slow breath and regained his composure like the ice statue he was. His eyes flickered over me, then back to Giovanni. "This is none of your business, Gio."
“Everything that happens in this house is my business as a Moretti," Giovanni retorted, descending the stairs leisurely, but there was nothing casual about the way his gaze locked on Larisa. “I vividly remember telli
