5. Lia
Chapter 5
Lia
“I’m sorry. She didn’t want to be initiated, but she knew you and your sisters would never be safe if she were alive,” Antonio says. His shaky lips show the war of emotions going on inside him.
“I don’t know how to process all of this,” I confess. My eyelids are heavy with sadness as I stare at him.
“Me neither.”
The silence between us grows heavy, a reminder of the immense pain we both carry.
Somehow, the video plays again. My mother raises her head, her gaze penetrating the camera lens as she holds a bottle of what I know is poison in her hand.
I can't … I just can't see it.
“Turn it off,” I beg.
Antonio pauses the screen.
But I can’t take my eyes away from the way she is staring into the camera. It feels like it's directly into my soul. Her gaze is so intense that it renders me speechless while the pain in my heart feels like an open wound.
Only now do I understand how deeply my freedom influenced her, the significance of her decisions, and the depth of her love. But taking her own life was a step too far.
Tears stream down my face uncontrollably. I know my mother left when I was four years old. She was already free from them. “Why couldn’t she just stay away?”
I hate she felt she had no choice. Hate it was her or me.
"To save her family."
I press my hand over my stomach and sigh. I understand the tough decision she had to make. The overwhelming love she had for her children. She was selfless, ensuring mine and my sisters’ survival, but nothing can stop my heart from aching.
Finally, the pieces of the puzzle fit together—and the reason my dad hates the mafia.
Antonio raises his gaze to Dominic, urging him to leave the room.
“I’m sorry Lia,” Dominic says as he walks to the door before he turns around and says, “My home will always be your home.”
When the door closes behind Dominic, Antonio takes the gun on the table and hands it to me. “And I’m ready to die,” he confesses, his voice heavy with the weight of his grief. “Ready to join her, because the day she died, I lost the only woman I ever loved. But I gave her what she wanted. I protected our daughter from this life as much as I could.”
The weapon feels heavy in my hand, adding to the growing tension in the air. I came here to do this. With two men dead and three to go, Antonio is making this too fucking easy.
And knowing he wanted to die with her breaks my heart. Neither of my parents wanted to stay in my life.
Tears coat my eyes as I point the gun at his face.
“I’m ready to die.” His voice doesn't waver. It's tinged with finality as he waits for me to be the one to end his suffering. “Please. I’ve waited my entire life to join your mother.”
He’s asking my permission to be with the one he loves.
I swallow, my mind still reeling from the revelation.
The pain of losing my mother is still raw, and the idea of losing another parent is almost too much to bear. Regardless of the fact, I came here to kill him; I refuse to let him dictate my actions.
“I can’t kill my father.”
“Just kill me,” Antonio hisses, his shoulders squared, his gaze is steadfast.
I point the gun at him, my hands trembling. I know his part in my mom’s death makes it very tempting to give way to vengeance, end his life, and continue my plan for revenge.
The door quickly opens. Dominic rushes in and warns, “Lia.”
I spin and point the gun at Dominic. “Keep out of this.”
I turn back to Antonio and say through gritted teeth, “You will die when I’m ready for you to die.” My voice shakes with the power of my words. “And when I’m ready to hear it, I want to know more about my mother and you. So don’t do anything fucking stupid.”
Antonio’s eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he realizes that my thirst for knowledge is greater than my need for revenge. It is right now. I need to know more about my mother and her life.
And possibly him.
“You want to know about me?” His voice softens.
My eyes close briefly, the pain in my thigh pounding in time with each beat of my heart.
I lower the gun, pressing my palm against the wound; the physical ache pales compared to the ache in my heart.
I compose myself enough to laugh bitterly. “You’re not getting away from giving me more answers. You can stay alive until I'm ready for you to die.” One day he will tell me the whole harrowing journey about my mom.
Antonio reaches out and wipes away the tears that stream down my face. “I’ll always look after you.”
He smiles at me, and I feel it. A bond—it's fragile—but it's real.
I want to sob into his arms. I want him to hold me and tell me everything will be better. Instead, I drop the gun and press my hands on the floor, adjusting my trembling body to rise unsteadily to my feet.
I momentarily glance at the gun and then fix my gaze on Antonio. I know he won’t kill me.
“Thank you for showing me the truth,” I say. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. I swallow before continuing. “We’re not finished here. There are still answers I need, but I’ll find them on my terms.”
I take a deep breath, gathering all the strength I can muster, before turning away from Antonio and heading toward the door.
As I walk away, the ache in my leg intensifies. I grimace, aware that the impact of falling on the floor has likely aggravated my wound. My footsteps falter for a split second, but I push through the pain and keep moving forward.
Antonio comes and stands before me, and in a surprising gesture, he extends his hand. “Please let me help you.”
I take it.
“You’re in pain?” Antonio’s voice breaks through the silence, his concern clear in his tone.
“I’ve just watched my mother kill herself.” I let out a bitter laugh.
His eyes drop to the ground. “Sorry. I meant physical pain.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here.”
“Let me help you,” he offers, stepping closer, his eyes soft, his intentions genuine. “Let me call my doctor.”
Something burns inside me. I need to know the truth, even if it brings more pain.
My voice quivers as I speak, hoping against hope for a different answer than the one I expect him to give me. “Who paid for me to go to England?” I ask. “You?”
It makes so much sense. My father could never have afforded it, regardless of Jove telling me he’d re-mortgaged his house.
Antonio nods.
“How? Why you?” I implore, my voice cracking.
“Because I promised your mother I would do anything and everything to protect you,” he chokes, his voice strained with emotion. “And I followed you to Australia, knowing this is where you were. But I never expected the others to follow me here, too. And then you got too close to my world. I had no choice but to prepare you.”
Our eyes clash in an unspoken understanding.
“When Nicolai Bianchi made a call to his brother, telling him he found you. That you were at the party at his house and he would not kill you without him. But first, he wanted his brother to help him. They wanted to claim you together, record it, and then kill you.”
“No,” I gasp, feeling the ground shift beneath me. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, forming a picture I never wanted to see.
“How do you know?” Dominic questions, his voice laced with doubt.
“I can’t tell you,” Antonio replies.
Dante.
Tears lace my eyes as I nod my head. He always protected me.
I say nothing more while Antonio waits, confirming what my instincts have suspected.
Tears lace my eyes as I nod my head in silent acceptance.
Antonio, despite his faults, has always protected me in his own twisted way. The love and loyalty he held for my mother extended to me, his daughter.
“I need to go,” I whimper. Limping backward, I pick up my gun and hold it out, though deep down, I know I won’t shoot him.
“You can’t climb the wall, Lia. You’re not strong enough,” Antonio says, concern etched on his face.
Our eyes lock, and a groan escapes my lips, realizing just how much he knew about my clandestine entries into his house.
“Stay here until you are well again. I’ll look after you,” he pleads.
“No. I can’t.”
“Please... Please let me do this for you,” he implores, desperation apparent on his face.
“I don’t trust you,” I admit, my grip tightening on the gun.
“Then kill me,” he challenges, his gaze unwavering.
My finger trembles on the trigger as I point the gun at him. “I will one day. You should have stopped her.”
Antonio’s voice cuts through the air, his tone firm but tinged with regret. “I know. And I’ve regretted not intercepting her journey to Italy every day of my life. I also know you need rest. Please stay.”
“Your sons...”
“I’ll send them away.”
“No... I can’t deal with this right now,” I admit, my voice heavy with exhaustion.
The haziness of my thoughts cloud my vision once again.
“Let me help my daughter,” Antonio pleads, his gaze softening. “Let me get you well enough to not grimace when you point the gun in my face again. Let me get you well enough for you to relish killing me, as you did with Giuseppe. Because when the day comes, I won’t stop you.”
The weight of his words hangs in the air, the bitter reality swirling between us. I remember the party, the moment Antonio turned Giuseppe in my direction, sealing his fate.
“You turned him to me,” I whisper, the memories flooding back. “Why?”
“Because he was the reason she died,” Antonio confesses. “He was the man who was so bitter at his son’s death that he was hell-bent on making your mother pay.”
“Why, though?” I press, my voice filled with desperation as I search for more answers. “Why was my mother to blame?”
Antonio shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his features. “It doesn’t matter now. He paid for his sins.”
As the weight of the revelation settles upon us, the room spins, and my vision blurs. I blink my eyes hard, attempting to push away the pain that threatens to consume me. But suddenly it’s overwhelming, crashing over me like a tidal wave, and I stagger, feeling myself losing control.
My breath becomes shallow, and I clutch my thigh, desperately trying to steady myself. But as the world around me becomes a flurry of colors and shapes and my legs grow weak, I’m unable to bear the weight of my body.
A gasp escapes my lips, followed by a whimper, as my legs give in to the overwhelming pain. The room is spinning faster and faster, and my vision fades into darkness.
“Lia,” I hear, but everything else feels like a distant haze as the sounds around me blend. I’m vaguely aware of Antonio’s concerned voice calling out my name over and over. But the rest of his words are muffled, as if they’re coming from a faraway place.
My body feels heavy, my limbs unresponsive. I feel like I’m floating on air as fear seizes my lungs.
I try to focus as consciousness teeters on the edge, and I’m slipping further away with each passing moment.
I close my eyes as I surrender to the darkness, and hope that I wake.