Antonio
What the hell was I thinking? Why did I beg Alessia to trust me—to give me a chance? I tell myself this marriage isn’t about love. It’s nothing more than a business deal. If that’s true, then why did it sting when Alessia said she’d never trust me? Why did it burn when she asked me to let her go?
Because it’s a lie, and I know it.
There was a time when I loved her—when we were younger, before everything went to hell. Alessia was the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about, the girl I loved. But life has a way of messing shit up.
I thought I buried those feelings, shoved them deep inside where they couldn’t reach me. Yet now, being close to her, hearing her voice, those feelings are clawing their way back to the surface. I had to leave, had to get away from her before I made more promises I’m not sure I can keep.
There’s too much to do, too much to fix. First on my list is finding Alessia’s identification cards. I step outside, hoping the fresh air will clear my head.
“Anton,” my mother calls from next door.
“Good morning,” I reply, walking over, even though I feel anything but good.
“You look exhausted. You really need to take better care of yourself.”
“It’s been a long few days,” I admit. “Dante and I had an unexpected trip to Alabama.”
“Alabama?” she asks. “Does this have to do with Alessia?”
I hesitate, uncertain how to explain the last twenty-four hours. “It does,” I say, my throat tightening as I admit the truth. “We were married last night.”
Her reaction isn’t immediate. She blinks, her expression unreadable. The seconds drag on, each one more tense than the last. “I didn’t realize you still had feelings for her.” Her voice is quiet and cautious.
I shake my head, trying to untangle the mess in my mind. “It’s not like that,” I manage, stumbling over my words. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Then what is it like?” she asks, sitting beside me. “Explain it to me.”
How do I tell her I forced Alessia to marry me? The truth lodges in my throat.
My mother’s always been strong willed. When her father tried to arrange a marriage for her, she refused. She stood up to him, insisting she be allowed to marry for love. And here I am, bound to Alessia in an arrangement that feels like a betrayal of everything my parents taught me.
“This wasn’t something I planned. Hell, I didn’t want to marry her,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck, a nervous habit I’ve had since I was a kid.
Mom’s eyes search mine, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Then why did you do it, Anton? You’ve never been the type to act on impulse, especially not with something this important.”
“It was necessary,” I say, the words tasting bitter. “Draco insisted on it. I didn’t have a choice.”
Her lips press into a tight line. “Draco Moretti insisted, and you just went along with it?”
My frustration flares, but I keep my voice steady. “I didn’t have an option.”
“There’s always an option, Anton,” she says, disappointment lacing her words.
“What’s done is done. We’re staying married.”
“And what about you?” she asks softly. “How do you feel about it?”
How do I feel? Conflicted doesn’t even begin to describe it. “I don’t know,” I admit, staring at the ground. “I didn’t expect to feel…”
“To feel what?” she presses gently.
“I shouldn’t be feeling anything for her, but I do,” I admit. “And it’s confusing as hell.”
Her expression softens. “This is your heart we’re talking about. If you feel something for her, no matter how complicated, you owe it to yourself to figure out what it is.”
“You and Dad made it look easy.”
“I loved your father with all my heart, but it wasn’t always easy,” Mom says, her eyes filling with tears. “There were times when our desires clashed, and I struggled with insecurity and jealousy. But your father never let me carry those burdens alone. He was patient when I faltered, strong when I needed him. Love isn’t only about the easy days, Anton. It’s about standing by each other through the darkest nights.”
She takes my hand, her touch warm and comforting. "We learned to compromise, respect each other’s differences, and never let life’s challenges make us forget why we fell in love in the first place. That’s the secret. It’s not about perfection, but perseverance and trust.”
Mom wipes a tear from her cheek. “Don’t let fear of loss hold you back from love. If you care for Alessia, give yourself a chance to see where it might lead. The journey, though difficult, may be more beautiful than you ever imagined."
“I’ve done terrible things,” I say quietly. “I don’t deserve someone like Alessia.”
Her grip tightens on my hand. “You deserve happiness, . Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, convince you otherwise.”
“Alessia hates me. She’ll never trust me, no matter what I do.”
“She has every right to be angry and afraid. I saw the bruises. I know what Valentino did to her,” she replies, her tone gentle. “You’re going to have to earn her trust.”
“What if she never loves me back?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Her smile is faint, but there’s a knowing look in her eyes. “Do you want her to love you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my hair.
“Give yourself time to figure it out. Allow Alessia time, too. Love isn’t something that happens overnight, especially not when she was forced into this marriage. Be patient and kind—the man I know you are in here.” She points to my heart.
I nod, though the knot in my chest doesn’t ease. “I’ll try. But I’m not going to lie, I don’t know if I can be that man.”
“You’re stronger than you know, ,” she says softly. “Don’t let this slip away before you give it a chance.”
Her words stay with me as I leave, echoing in my head like a distant warning. Don’t let it slip away.
Talking to my mom always brings a sense of clarity. As I walk across the street, hope takes root—just enough to make me believe that, despite everything, I might find a way to make this work.
* * *
The house across the street, the one Alessia shared with Valentino, is a reminder of the nightmares that still haunt her. Stepping inside, the walls seem to press in, as if they’ve absorbed every moment of darkness that unfolded here. I make a mental note to have it torn down—erase every trace of what happened within these walls.
I sit behind Vigo’s desk, rifling through drawers, searching for her identification cards. The papers are scattered, meaningless. My mind is a battlefield, torn between wanting to protect Alessia and the inevitable truth that I’m too dark, too damaged—someone like me has no place making promises to someone like her.
I’ll never raise a hand to her like he did, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt her. I’m no saint. There will come a day when, despite my best intentions, she’ll get hurt. It might be a harsh word spoken in anger or a decision made in haste.
My life is unpredictable and dangerous—that’s the scariest part. I pick up my phone and text Dante.
Me: I need more guards on my house and Alessia.
Dante: I doubled the number last night.
I grit my teeth. Why is he choosing now to argue? I hit his contact and wait for him to pick up.
“I gave you an order. Why the fuck do you think you can question it?” I bark as soon as the call connects.
“Woah, calm down,” Dante replies. “If you need more men, I’ll make it happen.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter and drop my head into my free hand. “Draco’s threats have me on edge.”
“I get it. I’ll put more men on it.”
“Alessia cannot be harmed. She’s been through enough.”
“We’ll keep her safe, . You have my word.”
We finish the call, and I set the phone down on the desk.
I was raised in this world, the one where getting my hands dirty wasn’t just expected, it was required. I’ve faced danger more times than I can count, stared down the barrel of a gun, but never felt true fear—until now.
Because this is different. I’m not afraid of bullets or blood. I’m afraid that no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to keep my darkness from seeping into Alessia’s life. That I’ll fail her in ways I can’t take back. I’ll see the pain in her eyes and know it was me who put it there.
But despite everything, I’m a selfish bastard. I want Alessia more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I want to protect her, yes—but I also want to keep her. No matter the cost.
And that, more than anything, is the real danger.