Buccellati Bruno Novels & Stories

Julian let out a low, calm laugh, looking Dante up and down before eyeing the ring box. "A custom archival diamond? I remember you from the premium auction last month, Mr. Moretti. You and I were in a bidding war for the rare emerald raw stone used for Elena's brooch. With your family's massive wealth, you could have easily outbid me. But the moment the price went up, you folded instantly. Was it because you didn't care enough, or did you think she just wasn't worth the money?"

The driver was cut in half at the waist, and the person in the back seat was so badly mangled that his face was unrecognizable. A loud roar echoed in Holly's mind as it went blank. Her gaze fell on the man's blood-soaked suit. This was the deep-colored suit that Bryce always wore. The man had long legs. The wrist that was hanging out of the car wore a Patek Philippe Celestial watch. Holly remembered the blue dial and the black leather strap. Bryce had bought it at Sodaby's auction for 2.6 million dollars. However, the dial now had a crack on it.

And all those hungry customers give an ear-full even if I'm a minute late. Bruno is the second son of Madam Serena, he's a nice guy, Tall, A cool tanned colored skin, Short black hair which he Never combs, and tattoos all over his chest like he was In a gang before now, and I think he's over thirty-eight this year.

Pearl had just finished helping me into the diamond-detailed dress Lauren had – without saying it outright – insisted I try first. Kai’s eyes gleamed as he traced the lines of the gown. “This,” he said, almost theatrically, “is one of the atelier’s most storied creations. Handcrafted over six months by the Milanese artisans of Lombrici & Sons. The diamonds, exactly 1,247 of them was placed individually. Each one sourced from a mine in Botswana, cut and polished by hand, then sewn by the finest seamstresses in all of Italy. The gown has a history, darling, it’s been worn by brides of great traditional families. And now, it’s yours to wear.”

As we explored the ancient ruins of Rome and marveled at the breathtaking beauty of the Amalfi Coast, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected adventure with the man I loved. As the sun began to set over the rolling hills of Tuscany, Bruno took my hand, leading me to a secluded vineyard. We walked through the rows of grapevines, the scent of ripe fruit and earthy soil filling the air. Bruno stopped at a picturesque spot, overlooking the valley below. "I have a surprise for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He pulled out a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a beautiful gold necklace with a tiny Italian horn pendant.

he denied hotly. “Then, don’t let her misunderstand.” Bruno pointed out. That shut Nico up. He loved that bracelet with his initials engraved on it. He loved seeing it on her wrist. Was that so bad after all?

Lizzie didn't understand his implication. "You'll understand." With that, Bruno hung up. Stunned, Lizzie listened to the dial tone for a while before putting her cell phone away, his words still echoing in her mind. Dressed in a black robe, Bruno stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, a high-stemmed glass in his hand. The dark red liquid within it swayed gently, releasing a light aroma of alcohol. His deep black eyes took in the neon lights outside the window. Soon, his cell phone on the coffee table buzzed with an incoming call. Bruno picked it up, glanced at the screen, and answered, "Adeline."

*Bruno* The scent of wine and roasted meat turned to ash in Bruno's mouth the moment he saw him. Through the ballroom's towering glass doors, past the writhing mass of silk-draped nobles and their glittering jewelry that caught candlelight like fractured stars, a shadow had fallen across the moonlit terrace. Not just any shadow—this one had substance, weight, the kind of presence that made the very air seem to thicken and curdle.

She spoke quickly, almost eagerly. “When I looked closely at the brooch, I realized it’s done in the style of Anderson Turner—Chanel’s former chief designer. Since his retirement, no one has been able to replicate this level of movement with diamond inlays. The wing outlines, the dynamic flow—those are his signatures.” She finished with a pointed glance at me, dripping with condescension. “She didn’t have this custom-made,” Gina declared. “She bought one of Anderson Turner’s earlier designs.” Her eyes gleamed with triumph, daring me to deny the accusation.

It tasted sweet back then. She had forgotten that, just last month, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. My doctor couldn't have been more emphatic when he told me to stay away from hard-to-digest foods exactly like this. The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom. I got up and walked over to the coat rack. A strip of black ribbon was poking out of Audrey's coat pocket. I gently pulled it free. It was a certificate of authenticity for a luxury watch, a custom mechanical timepiece with "S & B" engraved on the caseback—Sinclair and Brennan.