12. Antonio
Chapter twelve
Antonio
A s I round the car to open the door for Theresa, she’s already got it open and on her way to get out.
I rush to offer her a hand, but she ignores it and chooses to rather stumble out of the low car, visibly still intoxicated and unstable in her heels.
“And here I thought after our deep conversation, you’d stop being stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn,” she fires back as she grabs onto my shoulder, trying to stabilise herself.
A few passersby glance over at us, and I sigh. “It’s our first night. I can't have this already making headlines. Please just let me help you until we’re inside.”
“Why? Can’t ruin that Mr. Perfect persona?”
“No, I can’t.” And in one swift movement, I scoop her up bridal style and, despite her protests, head into the large skyscraper we’ll now be calling home.
She may have sobered up a bit after our car ride and depressing bonding session, but she reeks of tequila and sugar.
I swear, we left the girls alone for all of five minutes to take pictures. The next thing we know, they were all drunk off tequila.
And, of course, it resulted in Selena bursting into tears over the bouquet toss and Natalia throwing champagne in Adriano’s face because he told her she looked like she belonged at Santa’s workshop. I’m sure those five minutes and my family’s inability to keep their mouths shut are the reasons Theresa decided to even bring up the Valerie situation in the first place.
The doorman opens the large glass doors at the entrance, and we exchange greetings as I head towards the private elevator that leads right up to the penthouse.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Ambrose?” she asks as I step into the elevator.
I raise a brow and look down at her. Her brown eyes are the size of saucers and slightly glassy, too, showing just how much she has had to drink tonight. “I thought we agreed on one emotional conversation per night.”
“I mean, technically, it’s still part of this conversation. Aren’t they connected?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Do you hate him?”
The air in the elevator feels suffocating as the words leave her lips. I can’t bring myself to look at her. Or to even think about anything else because all the memories rush back in at once.
Ambrose sent me to the States on some wild goose chase with the Corsos, only to come home and have both of them lie to my face.
The dinner. Mattheo.
I killed Theresa’s uncle. I killed a person.
My brother has pushed me into so many uncomfortable situations over the last year that I’m not sure if I even have an answer to that question.
Soft skin meets my cheek, and her hand turns my face to hers. “You’re allowed to be upset at how things panned out.”
Her words reach up and wrap around my neck like a noose as her eyes drink me deeper.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” I try to turn away, but she grabs my face with both hands.
The elevator dings as the doors slide open to our floor. I exhale as we both just stare into each other’s eyes. “We should head in.” I break her gaze and swallow down the lump in my throat.
I am upset about what happened, but with the way things have been developing lately, I haven’t had much time to really process my thoughts and feelings. I’ve been constantly cycling between wallowing in anger and sadness, and ignoring the situation. And I’m sure now, more than ever, I won’t have time to deal with it.
We step into the huge penthouse, and immediately, I know Gus was the one who decided on the place and furniture. It’s the perfect blend of ultra-modern pieces, but still has a touch of comfort to it. There are so many plants in the living room area it border lines a greenhouse, but it’ll suffice for now. My only request was two bedrooms.
“Wow,” she says as she raises her head from my shoulder, taking in the room. “This is an upgrade from the manor. I guess being married to a billionaire has its perks.”
“It’s just for a bit of space from your dad. You can still go visit your siblings whenever you want,” I explain, placing her down and tossing my blazer onto the back of one of the couches, following behind her cautiously.
“It’s fine. I need some space from all of them, too.”
“Why?”
“Things have been…tense.” She walks around the room, observing it cautiously.
“Really?” I ask, walking towards the stairs.
“Yeah. After my mom died, my father became a different man. He’s more overprotective. We barely leave the house, and when we do, it’s always with security.”
I stay silent, not wanting to interrupt her. As selfish as it sounds, any information she gives me could help us in the long run.
“My sister is lucky since she goes to school in Paris, so she gets a bit more freedom since the guards can’t follow her every move there.”
“You didn’t want to study anything?” I ask as we reach the top floor. I peer down the hall, thankful to see multiple doors. I head to the first one, presumably hers, and turn the doorknob.
“I did, I wanted to be an author. But after my mother died, my father refused to let me. Since I was there when it happened, I was pretty shaken up by it. He didn’t want to let me out of his sight.”
I freeze in my spot.
“That and he made it very clear I would have to marry someone to further his work.”
“He made all that clear to you at thirteen ?” I ask as I we finally walk into the room.
“Yes. It was never a reality while my mom was alive, but the second she was gone, he made his decision about what my life would entail.”
I can hear her speaking, and I’m sure the sentence she just said makes perfect sense, but all I can focus on is the empty room in front of me, devoid of a bed.
“ Cazzo ,” I breathe, walking out into the hall and towards the next door.
A king-size bed sit perfectly in the centre of the room. These idiots had one job, and it was to make sure we had two rooms with two beds . Somehow, of course, they found a way to fuck it up.
“Antonio…” Theresa calls out from down the hall, and I sigh, running a hand through my hair before stepping into the hallway.
I crash straight into her, and my senses are invaded by her sweet scent and the warmth of her body. I try to stabilise us both before we go crashing to the floor.
“Sorry,” I breathe, taking a giant step back. “There’s only one bed. You can sleep there. I’ll take the couch and order another bed for delivery tomorrow.” I gesture into the room, and she just stands awkwardly.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch; the bed is huge enough, we won’t even touch.”
“No, you’re drunk, I don’t want you to wake up in the morning thinking I took advantage of you.” I shake my head and walk past her.
She grabs my shirt. “Stay with me.”
“Theresa…”
“Please. I don’t want to be alone on my wedding night.”
Her words hold a weight I wasn’t prepared for. In all honesty, being alone on my wedding night was not something I had planned for, either. Then again—neither was marrying a stranger.
“Please,” she says again, and the pleading tone goes straight to my heart.
I sigh, heavily contemplating every scenario. I really don’t want to spend my first night here on the couch, but I also don’t want her waking up thinking more happened when it didn’t.
“Fine, go change then,” I cave in, against my better judgment. At my core, I’m still a man, and why would I turn down a chance to share a bed with a woman as beautiful as Theresa?
“Wait, what about my things?”
“They’re all here, don’t worry, Theresa.” I nod towards the other room, and she pads down the hall to the room.
My brother’s words from earlier ring through my head as I step into my room.
“Don’t get caught up in this. It is not real,” Adriano says.
“We have a plan. It’s already in motion, just keep your head down,” Gus adds.
I need to remember that this is all pretend. That no matter what my heart tries to convince me, nothing can happen with Theresa.
I swear this is all some fucked up karma I get for killing Mattheo. Fate sends me a beyond gorgeous woman, and all I can do is sit here and do nothing about it. To be fair, my horrible luck started long before Mattheo even showed up. The day we got news of my father dying was the day it all started.
That was when Ambrose came home. It was when my father’s will announced that Ambrose was to be CEO even after his year-long absence from the company. Even after all the work I had done.
“ It’s about what you do when the world is throwing shit at you that matters.”
Ambrose’s words ring through my ears as I unbutton my shirt.
I must’ve committed mass murder in my past life because fuck knows what I did to deserve all of this.
I throw on a t-shirt and shorts, opting to sleep in clothes versus my usual underwear.
My entire body itches as it begs me to do more, to fight all of this more, but I know I have to let my brothers handle this—especially since there are too many eyes on Theresa and me. So I’ll have to, again , just do as I’m told and continue to fake it all.
I take a seat on the bed and charge my phone, double-checking none of my usual fifty alarms are on. I wouldn’t want to subject Theresa to my early morning routine just yet, and I could do with sleeping in a bit after tonight. Or, well, last night, since it’s 1:45 a.m.
Soft footsteps draw my eyes up from my phone, and my jaw nearly falls to the floor as I take in her appearance.
She is wearing a soft yellow, satin chemise that barely hits the middle of her thigh.
“ Cazzo, ” I curse under my breath. Someone is truly praying for my downfall right now.
She flicks off the light and joins me in the large king-size bed as I try to stay as far from her as possible.
“Goodnight, Theresa.”
“Please, can you stop calling me that?”
“What? Your name?”
“Yes.”
“What would you like me to call you then?”
“Anything else.”
“Very well. Goodnight, tesoro.”
She snorts at the choice of nickname. “Goodnight, Mr. Perfect.”
It’s a jab, but after tonight, it couldn’t have stung worse. Tonight was far from perfect, and she truly deserves so much more.