Alessia
The soft light of morning filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I stretch out, reaching for Antonio, but find nothing. His side of the bed is untouched, cool against my fingertips. Disappointment tugs at me, but I push it aside and slip out of bed. After last night, I’m sure he’s already busy with work.
I’m still wearing his T-shirt. Knowing it was on his body yesterday is comforting—I may never give it back. The fabric brushes against my bare legs as I head downstairs. When I reach the kitchen, the sight surprises me. Dante’s sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his hand, his posture as composed as ever. His eyes dart away from me with practiced subtlety.
"Good morning," Antonio says, crossing the room. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“I was looking for you,” I say quietly.
"I'm sorry you had to wake up alone."
“Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, dark shadows beneath his eyes betraying the sleepless night. “No. We’re still dealing with the fallout from last night.”
I glance at Dante, who keeps his gaze averted, focused on making another cup of coffee. “What’s going on?” I press, worry rising.
“There’ve been some unexpected complications, but nothing we can’t handle.” Antonio’s thumb brushes my cheek, his touch a quiet reassurance. “You should go upstairs and get dressed. More of my men are on their way, and I wouldn’t want to have to kill anyone for looking at you.”
“Antonio.” I give his arm a playful shove. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would, tesoro ,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re mine, and I don’t share.” The intensity in his voice sends a shiver down my spine—a mix of possessiveness and protectiveness that’s both comforting and unnerving.
I meet his gaze, recognizing the seriousness despite his playful tone. “You’re impossible,” I say, though I can’t hide the smile tugging at my lips.
Antonio grins, the caring man beneath the ruthless Capo breaking through. “Go on, get dressed,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll have breakfast ready when you come back down.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as I leave the room, I hear Dante ask, “She’s wearing your shirt?”
I pause, lingering in the hallway, listening.
“Things are changing between us,” Antonio replies, his voice low but clear. “We’re growing closer.”
“Are you sure it’s not just jealousy because Draco wants her back?” Dante questions.
“I’m falling in love with her,” Antonio replies, without hesitation. “And it terrifies me.”
My breath catches. He’s falling in love with me?
Moving quietly up the stairs, my thoughts race. I sit on the edge of the guest bed, Antonio’s words echoing in my mind. He’s falling in love with me. It’s something I never believed possible. I’ve always kept people at arm’s length, guarded with my heart. But these past few weeks with Antonio have been different. There’s a bond between us that feels deeper than attraction, a connection that’s raw, unguarded—real.
After everything he’s put me through, could we really have a future together? Is a man like him even capable of love?
* * *
Antonio’s men have been in and out of the house all day—some faces familiar, others not. Unlike Valentino and my father, Antonio doesn’t shoo me away while he gives orders. In fact, I think he prefers keeping me close. His men don’t seem bothered by my presence either. Although they don’t directly interact with me, each has been polite.
Still, I feel the tension in the air, and I can’t ignore how tired Antonio looks. He hasn’t slept, and it shows. The sharpness in his eyes is dull, the lines on his face more pronounced. I’ve seen him like this before—so focused on everything except himself. I know he’s focused on protecting me, but I worry about him, too.
“Antonio, you need to rest,” I say softly, standing beside him while he pours another cup of coffee.
He glances at me, a tired smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll rest later, tesoro .”
I know there’s no point in arguing, so I let it go for now. As I turn to leave, he takes my hand. “How about you grab your camera, and we’ll go for a walk?”
“That sounds perfect,” I reply, hoping fresh air will help clear both our minds.
As we prepare to leave, I glance around at the room full of men. I never thought I’d feel comforted by the presence of so many armed guards, but with Antonio, it’s different. Instead of feeling trapped or suffocated like I always did around my father and Valentino, I find myself wanting to help, to lighten the burden he’s carrying. I don’t want him to face this alone. For the first time, I don’t want to run—I want to stand by his side. But I still have no idea how to shoulder any of this.
Outside, the warmth of the sun melts some of my tension. Antonio keeps a watchful eye as we walk, his hand tightly holding mine. I don’t think my father is reckless enough to make a move in broad daylight, especially in such a populated area, but Antonio’s protective instincts never waver.
“Can we stop by the gallery?” I ask after a while. “I want to let Ophelia know I’ll have new photos soon.”
Antonio raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Sure,” he says. “Wherever you want to go.”
Snapping photos along the way, I capture moments of the bustling city. As we come upon Love Park, an idea hits me. “We don’t have any pictures of us,” I say, tugging him toward the iconic Love sign.
“I’m not much for pictures,” he grumbles, trying to resist.
“Please.” I bat my eyelashes playfully. “For me?”
He rolls his eyes but can’t hide his smile. “Fine. But I’ll take that,” he says, snatching the camera from my hands.
“Give that back,” I laugh, reaching for it.
“You’re always behind the camera,” Antonio teases, snapping several pictures. “I want some photos of my beautiful wife for my office.”
“Really?” No one’s ever wanted photos of me. My father didn’t have any personal pictures in his office and there were no family portraits on our walls.
“Yes, really,” he says, his voice low and sexy. He steps closer, pulling me into a kiss, capturing a few selfies with the camera. “Hopefully I didn’t cut our heads off,” he chuckles.
In moments like these, when it’s just us, I almost forget the darkness that surrounds us. I cling to these peaceful moments, hoping they’ll carry me through the inevitable trials ahead.
We reach the gallery, still laughing. “I’ll wait out here,” Antonio says.
“No way. I want to introduce you to Ophelia. Please,” I say, giving him a playful pout. “It won’t take long.”
He hesitates, then smirks. “Alright, tesoro. Let’s go.”
“Allie, what a wonderful surprise,” Ophelia greets us as we step into the gallery. She glances at my camera with a smile. “I hope this means you’ll have more photos soon. I’ve had some many customers asking for them.”
“It does,” I reply, unable to keep the grin off my face. “I wanted to introduce you to my husband, Antonio.”
Ophelia’s expression shifts slightly, but she quickly composes herself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, though I can sense her wariness.
Antonio nods politely. “Likewise.”
Ophelia continues to eye him warily. I’m sure she recognizes him from his involvement in the mafia, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Your wife has such talent,” she continues smoothly. “I’ve been trying to convince her to have a gallery show. Maybe you can help me talk her into it?”
Antonio turns to me, his gaze steady. "Is this what you want, ?"
A smile tugs at my lips as I nod. "I’d love it."
Without hesitation, he replies, “Then it’s yours, tesoro . Whatever makes you happy.”
His words fill me with a sense of joy I didn’t expect.
Ophelia claps her hands, her excitement contagious. "Wonderful! How soon would you like to get started?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit, glancing at Antonio.
“This is all you,” he says, gracing me with a sexy smile that makes my insides melt.
“Can we discuss it, and I’ll call you?” I ask.
“That works,” she replies, her eyes sparkling. “It’s going to be perfect.”
As we leave the gallery, I turn to Antonio, still stunned. “You really think I should do this?”
He looks down at me, his eyes sincere. “Absolutely. I’ve always known how talented you are, . It’s time the whole world knows.”
His words fill me with warmth, but something in his expression shifts. “What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly uneasy. “Is it my father?”
“No, nothing like that,” he says, leading me to a quieter spot in the park. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been buying your photos for the past few years,” he admits. “At first, I didn’t know they were yours. But when I found out, it only made me love them more.”
I stare at him, unsure how to feel. “Why?” I ask after a moment.
“At first, I was drawn to them because they captured something raw and real, something I rarely see. Something about them spoke to me,” he says, his voice low, thoughtful. “When I found out they were yours, it deepened the connection. Knowing they were a part of you, the only part I could have. It made me love them even more.”
I swallow hard, his words settling deep inside me, leaving me unsure of what to say. “What did you do with them?”
“They’re still in my apartment,” he admits, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “I hadn’t exactly planned on moving, but, then I went to Alabama to get you and things changed rather quickly.”
A sense of curiosity blooms inside me. I want to see this part of him—his world before everything changed. The place where he kept pieces of me. “Will you take me there?”
Antonio’s eyes darken slightly. “Of course, tesoro .” He pulls me close, his lips brushing my temple. “I’d love to show you.”