Chapter Four

Frederico Grey Di Grazia

People loved pretending blood made a family.

It didn’t.

Blood only made people crueler.

I learned that lesson young.

The Di Grazia estate looked beautiful from the outside. Endless marble halls, gold chandeliers, imported paintings worth millions.

Luxury distracted people from rot.

But underneath all that wealth, the family was poison.

And I had been born straight into it.

“You don’t belong here.”

I was ten the first time Lorenzo said it to me.

He stood in front of me inside the main dining hall, taller than me already, dressed in one of his expensive little suits while blood dripped slowly from my nose onto the floor.

Around us, servants lowered their eyes silently.

Nobody helped me.

Nobody ever did.

Lorenzo crouched slightly, gripping my jaw hard enough to hurt.

“You’re not a real Di Grazia,” he whispered. “You’re just the bastard our father was too weak to bury.”

Hatred burned through me instantly.

But I learned very early that hatred meant nothing unless you were powerful enough to act on it.

So I swallowed it.

Again.

Just like always.

The legitimate son.

The future heir.

That’s what Lorenzo was.

Meanwhile, I was the mistress’s mistake hidden inside the shadows of the family name.

My mother used to tell me not to fight back.

“Survive first,” she would whisper while cleaning blood from my face late at night. “One day you’ll become strong enough that nobody can hurt you again.”

Back then, I believed her.

Then she died.

And whatever softness existed inside me died with her.

The official story claimed it was illness.

Stress.

Weak health.

Bullshit.

The Di Grazia family destroyed her slowly until there was nothing left.

I remember standing beside her coffin at sixteen years old while Lorenzo leaned beside me casually smoking a cigarette.

“She should’ve stayed where she belonged,” he said.

Something dark settled inside me that day.

Something permanent.

Then Rose appeared in my life not long after.

And somehow…

She made me forget I was becoming dangerous.

Rosa.

God.

Even now, thinking her name felt like reopening an old wound.

She used to smile at me like I wasn’t broken.

Like I wasn’t violent.

Like I deserved something gentle.

Sometimes I think that was the cruelest thing she ever did to me.

Because once someone teaches you what love feels like—

You notice its absence everywhere.

The first time she touched my face, I almost lost my mind.

Nobody touched me softly growing up.

Not in the Di Grazia house.

Everything there hurt.

But Rose?

Rose touched me like I was worth saving.

And I let myself believe her.

Stupid mistake.

“You’re staring again,” she laughed one afternoon while sitting across from me at some cheap café near campus.

I leaned back in my chair slightly, cigarette resting between my fingers.

“You’re pretty.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly.

“You say that like it surprises you every time.”

“It does.”

Because she never looked real to me.

Not with those soft eyes and warm laughter.

Not beside someone like me.

Rose belonged in sunlight.

I belonged in blood.

Maybe deep down, I always knew that.

Maybe that’s why losing her destroyed me so completely.

The night she disappeared, I searched the entire city for her.

Every street.

Every apartment.

Every friend she ever mentioned.

Nothing.

No goodbye.

No explanation.

Nothing.

And Lorenzo—

God, Lorenzo laughed.

“She finally realized what you are,” he told me while pouring himself a drink inside the estate library. “Smart girl.”

I should’ve walked away.

Instead, I killed him.

The memory still lives inside me clearly.

The glass shattering.

Blood staining marble floors.

His breathing turning wet near the end.

And my hands around his throat while years of rage finally tore free.

“You don’t get to speak about her,” I remember saying calmly while he choked beneath me.

Calmly.

That was the worst part.

I wasn’t angry anymore.

I was empty.

When it was over, the future heir of the Di Grazia family lay dead at my feet.

And strangely…

I felt nothing.

No guilt.

No horror.

Just silence.

That was the night Frederico Di Grazia disappeared.

And Red was born.

---

The city lights blurred beyond the tinted windows of the car as silence settled heavily between us.

Rose sat across from me in the backseat, her hands folded tightly in her lap.

Nervous.

Guarded.

Beautiful.

My gaze drifted over her slowly.

The black dress hugged her body perfectly, the silk clinging to every curve like it had been designed specifically to torture me.

Eight years.

Eight fucking years.

And somehow she still looked capable of ruining me.

She stared out the window stubbornly, pretending not to notice me watching her.

But I noticed everything.

The slight tension in her shoulders.

The way she kept pressing her thighs together whenever I looked too long.

The nervous swallow every time the car hit silence for too long.

God.

She still reacted to me.

That alone nearly drove me insane.

My fingers flexed slightly against my knee.

Mine.

The thought came naturally now.

Dangerously naturally.

I should’ve hated her more.

I tried to.

For years.

But hatred and obsession were starting to feel identical.

Rose shifted uncomfortably beneath my stare before finally looking toward me.

“What?” she asked quietly.

I leaned back slightly, cigarette balanced between my fingers.

“You’re nervous.”

Her jaw tightened immediately. “Maybe because I was kidnapped.”

A faint smirk touched my mouth.

“There’s the attitude I remember.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away again.

That tiny reaction hit me harder than it should have.

For one reckless second, it felt like we were seventeen again.

Before betrayal.

Before blood.

Before I became something monsters feared.

My eyes darkened slightly.

No.

That life was dead.

And soon, whatever softness still existed inside Rosa Sinclair would die too.

I would make sure of it.

The car slowed gradually before stopping completely.

Rose glanced toward the tinted windows.

Bright golden lights illuminated the massive building outside.

A casino.

Luxury dripped from every inch of it.

Expensive cars lined the entrance while men in tailored suits and women dripping in diamonds disappeared through the front doors.

But beneath the glamour—

Violence lived there.

Money laundering.

Weapons deals.

Murder negotiations.

Sin wrapped in gold.

Rose looked uneasy instantly.

Good.

One of my men stepped out quickly to open the door.

I exited first, adjusting the sleeve of my black suit before turning back toward the car.

Rose hesitated briefly before stepping out carefully in her heels.

The second she stood upright, I grabbed her waist firmly and pulled her directly against my chest.

She inhaled sharply.

“Frederico—”

“Smile,” I murmured quietly against her ear.

Camera flashes exploded nearby instantly.

Her body stiffened.

I almost smiled.

The city would have the photos within the hour.

Perfect.

My hand slid higher along her waist possessively before I lowered my head and pressed a slow kiss against her cheek.

Not loving.

Claiming.

Rose froze completely beneath me.

“W-what are you doing?” she whispered shakily.

I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.

“Reminding people who you belong to.”

Anger flashed across her face immediately.

“I don’t belong to you.”

The dangerous thing?

I almost admired her for still fighting me.

Almost.

I brushed my thumb slowly across her jaw before turning toward the casino entrance.

“Walk beside me, Rosa.”

Not behind.

Beside.

The guards surrounding us immediately straightened as we approached the doors.

And the second we stepped inside—

Silence spread across the casino floor.

Cards stopped moving.

Conversations died instantly.

Dozens of eyes landed on us at once.

No.

Not us.

Her.

Shock moved through the room visibly.

Whispers followed seconds later.

“She’s back…”

“Holy shit…”

“That’s the girl…”

“So he finally found her…”

Rose’s breathing changed beside me.

Small.

Uneasy.

I could practically feel the realization sinking into her slowly.

They all knew.

Every single person here knew about her.

About what she did to me.

About what I became after she disappeared.

My hand tightened slightly around her waist.

And for the first time all night—

Rose looked genuinely afraid of me.