33. Theá
Chapter thirty-three
Theá
“N o, of course I understand that it was out of line.” Antonio’s voice fills the living room as he paces back and forth. To say last night went up in flames would be an understatement. Between Don Marcelino being there and Antonio punching Kylian in the face, not much went right other than getting to spend some more time with Natalia, Selena, and Valerie—who just happened to be blowing up my phone on the group chat they insisted we make last night.
Behind The Scenes
Me:
He’s speaking to my dad right now.
He’s apologising, so I don’t think it’s going well.
Natalia:
Oh no.
Valerie:
Apologising for what? Kylian was acting like an asshole.
Sorry, Theá
Me:
It’s okay. He always acts like an asshole, but is mostly harmless.
My father…not so much
Selena:
I’m sure everything’s going to be okay. Keep us posted, though.
Me:
Will do. Chat soon. I’m heading out with Pierre this morning.
“It won’t happen again. Thank you,” Antonio says before ending the call.
“Can we go now?” Pierre asks, looking between Antonio and me.
I asked if we could wait until after Antonio spoke to my dad. Not because I wanted to know what happened, but more because I just wanted to be here as support. After all, there is the constant reminder that he wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for my father.
“I’m coming. Head down, I’ll meet you downstairs,” I say as I grab my bag and walk towards the kitchen where Antonio has retreated to.
“Christmas is also coming. If you want to make our lunch reservation, you may want to consider making it quick,” Pierre says. He’s been waiting for me to get ready for the last hour, and then had to wait another fifteen minutes for this to wrap up.
After last night, all I want is to be lounging by the pool with a book. But of course, today is the last day Pierre can be here in Monaco before he has to head back to Marseille to work on something for my dad.
“Just give me five more minutes,” I plead. “You’d assume at this point it would be common sense that I’d need to check on my husband.”
“Fake husband,” Pierre points out, and I nearly stumble as his words crash into me.
“Same difference,” I offer, continuing to grab the last of my things.
“I’m okay, head out. We’ll catch up later,” Antonio’s voice rings as he steps back into the living room.
“Are you going to meet up with Mattia?” I ask as he pulls me into his side. He’s wearing his regular people clothing, just sweat pants and a t-shirt.
“He’s going to come over,” he says before his attention shifts to Pierre, who has been standing, watching this entire exchange. He offers my brother a simple head nod, but I assume I should just be grateful he acknowledged him at all. Especially with everything going on.
“Okay, let’s go,” I chirp, trying to break the growing tension surrounding us all.
“Have fun.” Antonio stiffens before kissing the top of my head. I’m not surprised that after last night, he’s a bit hesitant to display any major forms of affection in front of my brother.
Heat creeps up my neck, and soon enough, my entire face feels as if it’s on fire. I’m usually not one who’s easily embarrassed or shy in front of them since I grew up around Pierre and Kylian. But every move Antonio makes has me seconds away from giggling and kicking my feet like an innocent school girl.
“Great. Let’s go.” Pierre sighs, and I’m snapped out of my Antonio-induced trance.
I follow behind my brother until we’re in the elevator. I offer Antonio a little wave as the doors close, and I get a tight-lipped smile in response.
That’s odd.
“You look at him like you’re in love.”
I snort air through my nose in a very unladylike manner before quickly covering my mouth with my hand. “And how would you know what that looked like, Mr. the-only-romance-I-get-is-from-the-strangers-I-meet-on-Grindr ?”
“You look at him the way Mom looked at Dad.”
I feel as if my world screeches to stop. Pierre being five years older than me means he was seventeen when Mom died. He was the only one of us that got to see what their relationship was really like before it all took a turn for the worse. Even I only have memories of them separately, but very few of them together.
Pierre never speaks about her. I could count on one hand the number of times he has, and most of them were to remind me that she would want better for us. So to hear him speak about her now, like this, practically knocks the wind out of me.
“The only difference is I won’t let you fall victim to him the way she did to Dad. I’ll save you.” And with that, he’s out of the elevator, walking towards the main lobby of the hotel connected to the apartments we live in.
The drive over to the marina is short, but tension-filled as we’ve both let the weight of our words and actions hang around us.
“You’ve never really spoken about what happened.” I try to break the silence as we pull up to where we’re boarding the yacht for lunch.
“Probably because I don’t want to remember it, let alone talk about it,” he says, and the tremble in his voice is enough to have me clamping my mouth shut until we take a seat on the boat.
It’s a calm day on the water. The sun beating down with zero breeze makes the temperature feel multiple degrees higher than it is. Only light noise from nearby boats and the faint sound of traffic can be heard.
“So what really happened last night?” Pierre breaks the silence as our entrees arrive.
I switch my focus from the water to my brother and raise a brow. “What do you mean? I thought Kylian already told you.”
“Well, you know there’s two sides to a story, Kylian’s dramatized version and the truth…”
I snicker. “And what did Mr. Dramatic say?”
“Anything he needed to make sure Antonio was in the wrong. Did he really punch him square on the nose?”
“He deserved it.” I shrug.
Pierre frowns and starts eating his meal. We’ve both openly worried for Kylian ever since news broke about Pierre and Sixtine, leading Dad to withdraw Pierre’s title as underboss. Kylian has been running around with his head so far up my father’s ass trying to make sure the same fate doesn’t find him.
“He tries too hard. Even Dad can see that. What did he say that pissed Antonio off to the point of punching him?”
“It’s been a build-up over the last few weeks. Comments about me eating too much, not talking enough, talking too much, what I’ve been wearing lately. Oh, and he called Antonio a little bitch for listening to me when I begged him to let go of Kylian the first time.”
“He did?” Pierre’s eyes flash wide.
“Yes, which is ironic because he’s the same person who said I’m getting too caught up in all of this, and that Antonio doesn’t care about me.”
Silence.
The waves crash, seagulls squawk, and there’s some distant chatter from the staff, but other than that, silence.
“I agree with him on the last part. You’re foolish if you think this man cares about you, Theá; you’re just a pawn to him like he is to us.”
Like he is to us.
I’ve been pushing this idea to the back of my head since the night of Natalia’s birthday dinner. Refusing to acknowledge that he could’ve possibly been doing and saying anything necessary to get me wrapped up in his web.
“I fucking know that. Everyone has thrown it in my face every single day since this all started, but you don’t understand how difficult it is to not get consumed by someone you practically spend every second with.”
“The problem is you’re thinking with your hormones and heart instead of your head.”
I grab the wine glass and toss back nearly all the cool liquid.
Pierre and Kylian have always been more logical with the way they think. More calculated than I am. Where I consider emotions first, they dive head first with no regard for petty things like feelings.
Antonio is a lot like my brothers in that sense. I can see it in the way he considers every action before he does it. It’s a few seconds, nothing more, nothing less. As if every decision is as simple as black and white. As simple as yes or no.
Whereas I’ll weigh every single colour between black and white, not to mention my favourite word in the world: maybe.
It’s a trait I so unfortunately inherited from my mother. I care. I care about every fucking thing, and unfortunately I care just a bit too much about a certain billionaire.
“I don’t care if you sleep with him, Theá, I really don’t. But you cannot fall in love with him. You’re just going to hurt him, or worse, yourself by getting caught in the crossfire between him and Dad, and now Kylian, too.”
“I know. I won’t,” I grumble.
“Besides, how is he going to feel when he finds out you were never planning on staying, anyway? That you have this entire plan to leave him behind.”
Do I?
I had completely forgotten about the stupid plan until now. His plan. I’m merely just a pawn in another plan once again. But I suppose at least this time I’m getting something out of it in the end. My well-deserved freedom.
It’s not just about me. It’s about Noelle, as well. It’s for my mom, it’s what she would’ve wanted. It’s what she deserved.
Lunch passes in a cloud of grey and morbidity. After his very clear warning about Antonio, Pierre continues to discuss random odds and ends about his newest flavour of the month, but I can’t think about anything else except him .
Antonio Vitale consumes every single thought for the entirety of the meal, and leaves me with just enough brain cells to respond to my brother without suspicion.
Then again, whenever Pierre speaks about guys, it’s as if he completely checks out from everything around him, so looking interested was one of the easiest things I’ve ever done.
I stroll into the apartment, and it’s as if a wave of relief washes over me. To finally be out of my family’s direct eye and get a moment to just breathe—
“What do you mean there’s nothing we can do right now?” I hear Antonio yell. He walks out into the living room at the exact time I round the corner of the kitchen, curious to see who he’s yelling at.
His eyes widen in surprise. “Sorry,” he mouths before switching to Italian, walking towards the balcony.
Great. The negativity that surrounded me while I was with Pierre returns.
In my best attempt to avoid an even worse mood, I head straight for my safe space—a space where I know I can disappear and not have to deal with the reality of everything going on right now.
I close the door to the library behind me, make an iced latte, grab my latest read, and head for the cream-coloured loveseat that looks out the window, currently with a perfect view of the sun setting over the marina.
Just as quickly as I’d hoped, I get sucked into a world without my father, without my brothers, and even without Antonio. Even though I’d probably love to get sucked into a romance book with Antonio and never have to worry about getting out.
I look up from my book just in time to get the last glimpse of the sunset, and nearly my entire library is tinted orange. It’s so beautiful, and despite how I felt today, it all just seems a little pointless right now. The utter simplicity of this view feels like it’s all that matters.
I hear the soft click of the door opening followed by soft footsteps.
Antonio’s large body slips onto the loveseat, and he lays his head onto my lap—much to my surprise.
“Hi,” I say softly as he settles in. He’s turned away from me, towards the view, but his hand wraps around my entire thigh as he makes himself comfortable.
“I’m sorry you had to see me yell like that,” he apologises softly, as if he’s so incredibly embarrassed.
“It’s okay, I’ve seen far worse.”
“Doesn’t mean you deserve to see it,” he grumbles under his breath before turning to look up at me. His piercing green eyes are a lot softer as they take in my features.
“Are you reading another cowboy romance?” His eyes move to the book in my hand.
“No, it’s an alien romance.” I chuckle at what I thought was a very clear title. I mean, Celestial Hearts doesn’t give me cowboy vibes.
“I can’t compete with that, can I?” He raises a brow.
“Unless you have two…you know.”
“I mean, that can be arranged.”
We both burst out laughing. “I’m actually in the middle of the love confession now.”
“Read to me.”
My mouth parts, and suddenly, it feels as if I’ve forgotten how to read. My mouth is dry and I’m so scared I’m going to stutter. But when Antonio’s eyes shut and he grabs my hand to put it into his hair, I melt and give into his request.
“‘We became one flame, bonded by our hunger for love and ecstasy,’ he says. He peers so deeply into my soul I can’t help but feel vulnerable as I wonder what he must see looking back at him. Does he see me, the powerful goddess I’ve been raised to be? Or does he see me for the soft woman I dream of being? ‘It was a flame, but Celestara, it feels like a wildfire that consumed my life, and all I want to do is burn. I want you to singe every inch of my skin and make me yours until we both die on this fucked up planet,’ he rushes out. His words cause air to lodge in my throat, and I’m left stunned. No one has ever wanted me so honestly so openly. Yet I know this cannot go any further or I’ll hurt him. ‘We can’t do this. I’m a queen.’ ‘And I’m nothing more than a guard, willing to do whatever it takes to be enough for you. For just one shot, Celestara. I’m begging you to let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.’”
I pause to turn the page when he says, “Wow, those aliens are good with words.”
I chuckle softly and close the book, choosing to just enjoy this moment. The alien’s story is eerily similar to ours, and I can’t help but wonder if fate is trying to play some sick joke on us; forcing us to endure similar circumstances, but without the same happy ending.
“Do you ever think about what life would be like if you were someone else?” I ask.
“All the time.” He answers so quickly I wonder if he was thinking the same thing I am. “Sometimes I even pretend to be someone else, too, because it’s easier than being myself.”
“You and I both, I wish I could just run away from it all.”
He stays silent for a few beats. “What if we could?”
My heartbeat picks up, and I worry he’s caught onto mine and Pierre’s plans. That this was all his way of finding out the truth. “How?”
“Well, we never went on a honeymoon?” His eyes open and meet mine. “What do you think?”
“My father would never agree.”
“We won’t tell him.”
“That’s a death wish, especially after what just happened,” I scoff.
“That’s exactly why we need a break. He needs me more than I need him. And I’m sure the same goes for you. Besides, wouldn’t you rather die free than live trapped?”
Oh, you have no idea.