Antonio
The SUV glides along the highway, the steady rhythm of the tires on asphalt filling the silence in the car. Alessia’s out cold beside me, her body slumped against the door. The drug I gave her hasn’t worn off yet, but I know the peace won’t last much longer. When she wakes up, there’ll be hell to pay.
Dante casts a sidelong glance at me from the driver’s seat, his jaw set, tension radiating from him even though he stays silent. He hasn’t said a word since we left her apartment, but I don’t need him to. The tight grip on the steering wheel says it all—he’s not happy about how I handled this.
I didn’t have a choice.
Now, hours later, she stirs beside me, a low groan slipping from her lips. Her eyelids flutter open, and the instant Alessia realizes where she is, a fierce spark ignites, her anger unmistakable.
“Finally awake?” I ask, my voice steady.
She straightens, her breath coming faster as her eyes lock onto mine. “What did you do?” she demands.
I twist open a bottle of water and hold it out to her. “Drink slow,” I say, keeping my tone calm. “I couldn’t let you stay, Alessia. Not with everything happening.”
She hesitates, her eyes flicking between the bottle and my face. But I know she needs it, the drugs will have made her throat dry. After a beat, she snatches it from my hand.
“I hate you,” she whispers, the venom in her voice unmistakable.
Her words cut deeper than I’d like to admit, but I don’t flinch. “I know but you’re safe with me,” I reply quietly.
“Safe? You drugged me,” she whispers the accusation.
There’s nothing I can say that’ll make this situation better. Nothing that’ll take away the betrayal she feels. She wants her freedom, but she can’t have it. Not in the way she wants. What she doesn’t know is that I’m the only thing standing between her and an even worse fate.
As we drive, the tension between us thickens. I need to tell her. I have to explain what this is really about—why I had no choice but to bring her back. But how do I tell her that this isn’t just about going back to the life she tried so hard to leave behind? How do I explain that I’m taking her into a new kind of prison, one where I’ll be holding the keys?
But I’m not Valentino. I’ll never be him. He took pleasure in control—in breaking her.
Yet, no matter how much I try to convince myself that I’m different, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m about to take away her freedom. The thought makes my stomach turn, but I push it down. This is the only way to ensure everyone’s safety.
Out of the corner of my eye I watch her. Alessia’s beautiful, even now, with tension etched into every line of her body. But that beauty is nothing compared to the storm brewing in her eyes. A storm she’ll undoubtably unleash on me when I tell her the truth.
A few hours later, Dante exits the highway and steers into the lot of a roadside convenience store. The sun is higher in the sky now, casting harsh light across the pavement. He parks the SUV, cutting the engine. The sudden silence is almost deafening.
“We should stretch our legs,” Dante says, his voice low as he glances at me. “Take a break.”
Before Alessia can move, I reach across her, gripping her wrist just enough to get her attention. “Listen carefully,” I say, my voice dark, low. “You’re going to behave, or I won’t hesitate to drug you again. Do you understand?”
Her eyes burn with anger, that same fire still blazing inside her, untamed. She presses her lips together, defiant as ever. “Fine,” she spits out, the bitterness dripping from every word.
I release her wrist, but inside, I can’t help the surge of pride. Alessia’s her beautiful, defiant self. Still whole. Still unbroken. A part of me wishes I didn’t have to be the one to drag her back, but it’s that fire I need to protect.
“Good. Now let’s get out.”
She doesn’t argue, just throws the door open and steps out, slamming it behind her. I watch her walk toward the restroom, her shoulders rigid with barely contained fury. I don’t take my eyes off her until she disappears inside.
Dante steps out of the car and joins me as I lean against the wall outside the restrooms. He studies me for a moment, the weight of what’s happening hanging between us.
“You gonna tell her about her upcoming wedding?” he asks, his voice cautious but direct. He knows the score, knows the stakes. We’ve been in this life long enough to understand how complicated the next steps will be.
I shake my head, keeping my gaze fixed on the ground. “Not yet. I’m not saying anything until I have to.”
Dante crosses his arms, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “And when will that be?”
“As soon as we get home,” I reply, my voice flat. “I’ve already arranged everything. The ceremony will be private. It’s all lined up.”
We both know what this is really about. Draco’s orders to marry Alessia are a power play, his way of asserting control over me and keeping her tied to the Famiglia .
But what Draco doesn’t realize is that I’m shifting the game. I might be following his command, but I’m doing it on my terms, in my time. By handling this my way, I’m ensuring I still hold the upper hand, not him.
“She’s not going to take this well, you know.”
“She doesn’t have a choice,” I say, my voice harsher than I intend betraying my nerves.
We both know this is a disaster waiting to happen, but there’s no way to stop it—no way out.
A few minutes later, Alessia reappears. She glances at me, then looks away, like she can’t stand the sight of me.
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” she snaps, the anger in her voice barely contained.
“When’s the last time you ate?” I press, not willing to let this go.
“What’s it to you?” she shoots back, glaring at me.
I’m trying to keep my frustration in check, but she’s not making it easy. “You’re with me. And as long as you are, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
Dante gives a quick jerk of his chin toward the store. "I’ll leave you two to figure this out." He walks off, leaving me alone with her.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m not your enemy, Alessia.”
She turns her head slowly, her eyes filled with pure loathing. “You really think that?”
"Whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. I’m responsible for you now."
"Responsible? Is that what you call dragging me back to a life I don’t want?"
"I don’t expect you to understand," I reply, keeping my tone even. "But I have my reasons."
"Your reasons?" she says quietly, but the anger in every word is undeniable. "What reasons could possibly justify dragging me back to hell? You’re no better than?—"
“Stop right there,” I cut her off. "I’m not him, Alessia. I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m doing this to protect you."
She glares at me with barely restrained fury. "Protect me? By kidnapping me and dragging me back to Philadelphia? That’s not protection, . That’s imprisonment."
"I know it feels that way," I say quietly, trying to reach her through the wall she’s put up. "I’m asking you to trust me.”
“At one time, I thought you might be different.” She lets out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "What a fool I was. You’re no different than Val and my father. I hate you for this.” She turns on her heel and gets back into the car, slamming the door.
I watch her go, my chest tight with the weight of her words. She’ll never see it from my perspective—not now, at least. She hates me for taking away the freedom she fought so hard to claim. And she’s right to feel that way. But what she doesn’t understand, what I don’t know if she’ll ever see, is that I’m nothing like Valentino or Draco.
To them, Alessia’s nothing more than a pawn, a tool to broker power. But to me, she’s always been so much more. I’m not doing this to control her. I’m doing it to protect her from the dangers lurking in the shadows—dangers she doesn’t see.
I don’t give a damn if the Moretti’s remain our allies. My famiglia wields enough control in Philadelphia to ensure Draco and his organization are nothing if he isn’t aligned with us. However, if I don’t go along with Draco’s demands, I fear he’ll take Alessia and give her to someone who won’t care about her passions. Someone who’ll use her and hurt her—who’ll break her spirit. I’d never forgive myself if that happened.
Dante returns, carrying a bag in one hand. He gives me a pointed look. “Get yourself something to eat. I’ll stay with her.”
Inside the store, I grab a box of granola bars—something I’ve seen Alessia snacking on before. I don’t know if she’ll actually eat them or throw them back in my face, but it’s a small gesture I hope she’ll accept. As I make my way through the aisles, I try to shake the image of her storming away, the words she hurled at me echoing in my mind. The way she looked at me like I was no better than the men who’ve hurt her.
At the self-serve coffee station, I fill three cups, the aroma a brief distraction from the ache tightening in my chest. Alessia will never see this marriage as anything but a betrayal. I’ll prove that I’m different. Somehow, I’ll make her see this isn’t about power or domination—this is about keeping her safe and giving her the life she deserves.
Even if she hates me for it.
After paying, I step outside to find Alessia leaning against the SUV, her arms crossed. My eyes fall to the curve of her chest, the way her T-shirt clings to her body. To the swell of her breasts, the way they rise and fall with each angry breath she takes. For a brief moment, I’m drawn in by something I have no right to be focusing on. I quickly correct myself.
Dante stands next to her, his posture relaxed, as if he’s completely unaffected by the tension radiating from her. I can tell from his expression that he thinks I should tell her everything now.
I hand Dante his coffee without a word, then offer one to Alessia. She doesn’t even look at me, just stares straight ahead, ignoring the cup like it’s poison.
“Alessia,” I say softly, trying to get her to look at me. “Don’t be so stubborn. I’m not your enemy.”
When she turns, her gaze is icy. “You sure about that?”
“It’s only coffee,” I reply, holding the cup out to her again.
Her eyes flicker to the cup, then back to me, suspicion still clouding her expression. “And what? I’m supposed to believe this makes everything okay?”
I shrug, keeping my tone light. “For now, yeah.”
She hesitates for a moment, then sighs, taking the cup from my hand. “Fine,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “But this doesn’t change anything.”
“I know,” I say, relieved she’s at least willing to accept this small gesture. “But it’s a start.”
She doesn’t respond, just turns away again, but this time, she takes a sip of the coffee. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it.
“We should get back on the road,” Dante says.
Alessia climbs into the backseat without a word, her movements stiff. I slide in beside her as Dante starts the engine, and we merge back onto the highway. Silence fills the car, thick with the weight of unspoken words. I know the truth I need to reveal will shatter whatever fragile peace remains.
But the truth is, I can’t hold it off forever.