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The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 113

Franco’s eyes were icy, impossible to read. “Sell it to you? You don’t care about collecting. Why do you want it?”

People always said Franco’s stare could see right through anyone. But Harris, standing in front of him now, wasn’t just anyone. He’d grown up with Franco, raised by the Byron family, polished and poised in a way that made him stand out wherever he went.

He held Franco’s gaze, calm and unafraid.

“It’s for someone else,” Harris said quietly, snowflakes landing on his shoulders.

It took a lot for someone like Harris to stand out in the cold just to ask for something. Whoever he meant to give it to must really matter.

Franco gave a soft, mirthless laugh. His fingers squeezed the handle of his cane. “It’s not for sale.”

Harris frowned. “You’re not even going to use it.”

“That doesn’t matter to you.”

Harris stepped closer, grabbing Franco’s arm before he could get into the car. His usually gentle voice turned serious. “I’ve never asked you for anything. This brooch means a lot to me.”

“You know why you’ve never asked. You know how to keep your distance. So, look at yourself now. What are you doing?” Franco’s voice chilled the air around them.

Harris met his glare. “And you know that if I’m coming to you like this, it’s because this is really important to me…”

“Harris.”

Franco’s hand clamped onto Harris’s collar, cutting him off. His deep voice was edged with a cold, mocking tone. “All it takes is her saying your name and you lose your mind, huh?”

He could almost hear a woman’s soft, teasing voice in his head, calling out “Harris” again and again, making his thoughts scatter.

As Franco moved, Jay lowered a black umbrella, shielding them from the curious glances of the auction guests.

To anyone watching, it just looked like two brothers having a serious talk.

No one would have guessed that in the middle of a snowy night, Franco—the one known for loyalty—would actually lay hands on his own brother.

Harris froze for a second.

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