Alessia
After Valentino stepped into the role of Capo, he assigned Antonio to oversee my personal security—a move that shocked me. Valentino spouted some nonsense about being concerned rival families might try to hurt me to get to him. But I didn’t buy it for a second. He never does anything without an ulterior motive. There’s more to this than concern for my safety, but what exactly? I’m not sure.
Having Antonio around is both difficult and comforting. He’s a reminder of what we once shared, of a past I can’t quite escape, yet his presence still brings an odd sense of safety. Maybe it’s because, despite everything, I trust him more than I should.
Antonio often makes excuses, saying he has other tasks to attend to, leaving Dante to babysit me more often than not. Even when he’s here, Antonio’s different—detached. He follows orders, but there’s no warmth like he’s deliberately avoiding being too close.
But today, Antonio has no choice but to be here. Valentino sent Dante out of town on some business, so Antonio is stuck with the job he’s been avoiding. He’s walking silently next to me as we cross the street to visit Domenica.
Since Giovanni’s passing, Domenica has been drowning in loneliness. Though their marriage was arranged, Giovanni was the great love of her life. I’ve made it a habit to spend a few hours with her each day, hoping my presence might offer some small comfort amidst her grief.
I knock gently on the door, hearing her familiar, faint come in , before stepping inside. It’s been nearly a month since Giovanni’s death, but sorrow still hangs thick in the air. Domenica sits by the window, where she always is, her gaze distant and unfocused, lost somewhere beyond the glass.
She turns slightly when I enter the room. “, dear, you didn’t have to come,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, though a small glimmer of appreciation softens her tired eyes.
“I want to be here,” I reply gently, crossing the room to sit beside her. “How are you feeling today?”
She sighs a sound that carries the weight of her heartache. “Every day without him feels like an eternity. I keep expecting him to walk through that door and to hear his voice, but...”
I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “Giovanni was a good man. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you.”
“He was,” Domenica replies, her fingers tightening around mine. “And now, it’s as though a part of me is missing. The house feels so empty without him.”
We sit in silence for a while. The only sound is the soft rustle of the leaves outside. Her pain is palpable and tugs at something deep inside me.
“I brought some of your favorite tea,” I say, trying to offer a small comfort. “Maybe we can sit outside for a bit. It’s a beautiful afternoon.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”
As I prepare the tea, the routine feels almost soothing, a brief moment of normalcy in the midst of her grief. The kettle whistles, and when I glance back, I see Domenica holding a photograph of Giovanni, her fingers tracing the edges gently.
“When Giovanni and I first married,” she begins softly, her voice distant with memory, “I was so scared. I didn’t know if we’d ever truly love each other. But he was so patient and kind. Over time, I realized how much he meant to me.”
I pour the tea and bring the cups outside to the patio. Domenica follows me, and we settle in the garden. “Anyone could see how deeply he loved you.”
She nods, tears welling in her eyes. “He did. And I loved him. I don’t know how to move on without him.”
“Take your time,” I reassure her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to rush through this.”
“You’ve been such a comfort,” Domenica says, her voice filled with gratitude. “I know you and Valentino are still finding your way, but don’t take a single day for granted.” Her words catch me off guard. “I know you feel forced into this marriage, but my Gio and I are proof that love will come.”
She has no idea who her son really is—the cruelty that lurks beneath his polished facade, the awful things he’s already done to me. I can’t bring myself to shatter her illusion, to tell her the truth about the man she raised. Instead, I smile and play along. “I’m sure you’re right.”
My phone vibrates on the table, breaking the moment. I glance down at the screen and sigh.
Valentino: Where are you?
: I’m with your mother.
Valentino: You didn’t tell me you were going anywhere.
: You weren’t home. Antonio brought me.
: I didn’t think I needed your permission to visit my mother-in-law.
The texts show read, but there’s no reply.
“Is everything alright, dear?” Domenica asks.
I force a smile. “It is. Nothing important.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Antonio says, stepping onto the patio.
“You’re never an interruption, Anton,” Domenica replies warmly.
“Valentino’s on his way,” Antonio says, a slight hesitation in his voice. “He’s not in the best mood.”
I offer a nod of appreciation. “Excuse me for a moment,” I say, standing and hoping to interrupt Valentino before he causes a scene and upsets his mother even more.
Just as I step inside, the front door slams. Heavy footsteps approach as Valentino storms down the hallway.
“What the hell are you doing here again?” he snaps, his eyes narrowing as they land on me.
“I told you in my text. I’m visiting Domenica,” I reply evenly. “She needs support right now.”
“She needs to move on,” he growls, his tone harsh. “Sitting around feeling sorry for herself won’t bring him back.”
Anger flares inside me, but I keep my expression neutral. “Grief doesn’t work on your timetable. Maybe you should try spending some time with her. She could use the support of her son.”
He steps closer, his voice lowering dangerously. “There are more important matters to attend to.”
“Like what?” I challenge.
“I’ve been busy working—making new deals,” he sneers. “And I expected to come home to my wife, not to find her wasting time on things that no longer matter.”
I lift my chin, refusing to back down. “Nothing’s more important than family. Not even your precious business.”
His eyes flash with fury. “You don’t decide what’s important, . I do. From now on, you won’t be visiting my mother, or anyone for that matter. Do you understand?”
“I’m not one of your men, Valentino,” I say, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. “You don’t get to order me around.”
His expression darkens as he steps even closer. “You may not be one of my men, but you are my wife. You will follow my rules.”
I take a deep breath, keeping my voice steady. “I will continue to visit Domenica. She needs someone, and clearly, you can’t be bothered with your own mother.”
“You’re treading on thin ice, ,” he hisses, his grip suddenly latching onto my arm with a bruising force. “You think you can defy me?”
Pain shoots through my arm, but I refuse to show any weakness. “This isn’t about you. It’s about doing what’s right.”
“You will do as I say, , or you will face the consequences.”
“Let go of me, Valentino,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Valentino,” Antonio says from behind me.
Valentino’s grip on my arm loosens as he looks over my shoulder. “What do you want?” he snaps.
Antonio steps forward. “Is everything alright?” he asks, his tone steady but filled with an undercurrent of concern.
Before Antonio can say more, I step in quickly, forcing a light laugh as I rub my arm. “It’s nothing, really. Just a little misunderstanding—newlywed things, you know.” I offer a playful smile, trying to ease the tension. “Nothing to worry about.”
Antonio looks between Val and me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” I say, my voice a little too cheerful as I meet Antonio’s gaze, silently pleading with him to let it go.
Valentino narrows his eyes at me before turning his attention back to Antonio. “See? No problem. Just a private conversation between husband and wife.”
Antonio’s jaw tightens. “Your mother is in the other room. You don’t want to upset her with your newlywed spat.”
Valentino turns to me, his expression hard. “This isn’t over,” he warns before storming out of the house and slamming the door behind him.
I force a small, dismissive smile, turning to Antonio as if brushing off the tension. “Marriage can be overwhelming. We got a little heated over nothing, really.” I give a small, awkward laugh. “He’ll cool off.”
Antonio doesn’t seem convinced, his eyes studying me carefully. “...”
“It’s fine,” I cut in, keeping my voice light even though my heart is pounding. “He’ll be fine. “I’m going to say goodbye to Domenica. Will you walk me home after?”
“Of course,” he answers without hesitation. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
I return to the patio where Domenica is waiting, her expression curious. "What did Valentino want? He seemed upset."
I force another smile. "He came home and wanted to take me out on a date. He got worried when I wasn’t there.”
Her face brightens. "That’s wonderful. He’s been so preoccupied with taking over for his father. I’m glad to see him making time for your relationship.”
I nod, playing along. "Yes, it’s nice to see him making an effort.”
Domenica pats my hand, her eyes filling with hope. "Enjoy your evening, dear.”
"Thank you, Domenica," I say softly. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
As I step outside, I find Antonio waiting on the porch. "Ready?" he asks, offering a small, comforting smile.
"Ready," I reply, although the last place I want to go is home.
We take a few steps in silence. The cooling air calms my nerves. I steal a glance at Antonio, my thoughts swirling. Without thinking, I finally break the silence. “Antonio,” I hesitate, then push forward, my voice soft but laced with a question I’ve been carrying for too long. “What happened between us? Why didn’t you go to my father?”
He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he stares straight ahead. The silence stretches between us. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and filled with something I can’t quite place. “Things changed,” he says, keeping his gaze forward. “You know that.”
“But you didn’t even try,” I whisper. “You just let me go.”
Antonio stops walking, turning to face me. For a moment, there’s a hint of the boy I once loved in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it fades, replaced by the cold distance that’s become so familiar.
“I realized there wasn’t anything worth fighting for,” he says, his tone harsh and emotionless.
His words are unexpected and hit me like a slap across my face. My chest tightens as I search his face for some sign that he doesn’t mean it—that it’s a lie.
“That’s not true. I don’t believe you,” I say, my voice trembling with hurt.
Antonio’s expression hardens further, his blue eyes locked on mine. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
The pain in my chest twists, and I can’t stop the words from spilling out. “And what about me? What about us? Wasn’t I worth fighting for? Or did I mean so little to you?”
Antonio flinches, just barely, but I catch it before he stiffens, his mask of indifference slipping back into place. His voice hardens as he speaks, his words cruel and deliberate. “I was a stupid kid back then, saying things I didn’t mean. This,” he says, gesturing toward himself, “is the real me.”
His eyes darken, filled with something dangerous. “You think Valentino’s ruthless? He’s nothing compared to me. I’ve done things, —things you couldn’t even imagine. I kill and torture without a second thought. You see the monster your husband is, but I’m worse. I don’t hesitate. I don’t flinch. I do whatever needs to be done, no matter how dirty or brutal.”
He takes a step closer, his voice low, cold. “You think there’s still some part of me that’s good? That’s kind? There isn’t. That boy you remember, he’s dead.”
His words crash over me like a tidal wave. I realize I don’t know the man standing in front of me. He’s painting himself as a monster, a killer—someone far removed from the Antonio I once loved. I search his face, desperate to see something, anything that says he’s lying, that this is just another wall he’s built around himself.
But all I see is a man who’s lost himself to the darkness.