34. Theá
Chapter thirty-four
Theá
“A ntonio, what are we doing right now? I thought we were just venting when we spoke about this trip a few days ago?” I ask as I watch him place two giant suitcases on the bed.
“We’re going on our honeymoon. It started as venting, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised I wanted to do this. I want to have a honeymoon; I want to be free with you.” He meets my eyes, and they’re wild as he smiles before he turns to start throwing clothes in the suitcase. “C’mon, grab your things. Pack for everything.”
“ Everything? Antonio, this is crazy.” I chuckle nervously.
Pierre and Kylian’s words are swirling around in my head. This, how erratic he’s acting, makes it feel even more real. And I can’t help but worry that after the CFP dinner that this is what an Antonio Vitale mental breakdown looks like.
“Antonio, hold on. Let’s just take a second.” I walk over to him and grab his arms, stalling his movements.
“We don’t have a second, tesoro. The private jet won’t wait forever.”
“Yes, it will. You’re a billionaire. Besides, that’s the point of a private jet,” I state and he chuckles.
“Fair enough, but you’re missing the point here; it’s not a spur of the moment trip if we take our time.”
“Spur of the moment? Antonio, you’re not being rational right now. Think of all the consequences if my father catches us or even hears that we’ve left Monaco. It’s suicide.” I meet his eyes, hoping my last sentence can drive home my point.
“What about any of this is rational? Our entire relationship is irrational, but you know what’s not? How I feel when I’m with you, Theresa. And I just want to cherish it without anyone peering over my shoulder, on my time.” His face softens. “I’m so tired of doing everything everyone else wants me to do. Just for once, I want to be in control.”
“Don’t say it like that. You’re talking like someone who’s going to die.”
“Well, with the vendetta Kylian has out for me, I might.” He chuckles.
“How are we going to do this? Surely both our passports are going to flag to my dad the second we leave Monaco?”
“Don’t worry about it, we’re going exactly where he wants us.”
“France?” I furrow my brows.
“Bingo.” He kisses my forehead before walking over to his cupboard again to grab some more clothes.
“Where in France exactly?”
“Nope, everything else is a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see. But don’t worry, it’s not Marseille.”
Hesitantly, I step back. I trust Antonio. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him, and the words he’s saying right now are appealing to the rebellious nature I keep deep down. I can relate to everything he says—wanting to be in control of your own life, getting to do whatever you want without worrying about the consequences.
“I have never packed so quickly before in my life.” I chuckle as we make it through security. It’s late afternoon by the time we arrive at the airport.
“I hope you remembered everything.” He grabs my hand as we walk towards the tarmac.
“Considering I just threw everything in, I probably forgot something. It’s a good thing my husband’s a billionaire and can just buy me whatever I need.”
He rolls his eyes, but a smirk settles on his lips.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vitale, a pleasure,” the pilot greets us as we arrive at the private jet.
“Thank you for helping us out on such short notice.” Antonio extends his hand.
“Of course, Mr. Vitale, it’s an honour to be a part of such a special occasion.” Antonio smiles broadly, and I say a quick thanks as Antonio pulls me up the stairs and into the cabin where we take our seats.
“First time in a private jet?” he asks as I take in my very lavish surroundings.
“Yes,” I say absentmindedly as I stroke the leather on the seats that feel exceptionally soft.
“Let me give you a quick tour before we take off.” He jumps up suddenly.
He’s been so full of energy the entire day, and it makes his usual sunshine demeanour even brighter.
I follow behind him slowly. He has to bend slightly as he walks through the cabin since it’s not built for someone his height.
“This is the bathroom.” He points towards a room just to the left. As I step in, I almost let out a gasp. It’s fully equipped with everything, down to a small shower.
“Wow,” I say, scanning the room.
“Over here is a bedroom.”
“A bedroom?!” I ask as I step back into the small hallway.
“Yeah, it’s for when we do longer flights unless you want to nap right now?” He looks at me, slightly concerned that I might be tired.
“This is insane.” I sit down on the mattress, and he joins me. “And it’s comfy, absolutely insane.”
“Very comfy.” He pulls me closer. “Almost too comfy.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to lie down.
Giggles escape my lips as he starts tickling me. “Stop it. I’m going to start crying,” I beg and wriggle against him, trying to escape the torture.
“But your giggles sound so pretty,” he reassures as he continues.
“Antonio!” I shriek, and he chuckles before stopping and smothering me in kisses.
“Antonio,” I repeat, but this time, it sounds a lot breathier.
“Hmm? Want me to stop this, too?”
“No.”
A knock sounds from the door, and Antonio pauses. “Yes?” he calls.
“Mr. Vitale, the pilot has asked for everyone to take their seats for take-off.”
“We’ll be out in a second,” he replies before sighing. “Guess it doesn’t count as mile high if we aren’t in the air yet.”
He stands and helps me to my feet.
I turn to a mirror and ensure my hair is laying normally, catching a glimpse of Antonio readjusting himself. “Keep staring, tesoro, and this flight may get delayed,” he says before opening the door.
“Like you said, it doesn’t count if we aren’t in the air.” I pat his shoulder and head back out to our seats.
Take-off is smooth, and once we’re at cruising altitude, Antonio makes quick work of unbuckling both our seatbelts and dragging me back to the bedroom—but not for the reason I think.
He pulls me into his chest and just lets me lay there, cuddled up. No expectations. And suddenly, I can feel the weight of all the adrenaline and stress wash over my body. He must sense it, too, because he pulls me even closer.
“If you did have to run away, what’s one thing you’d miss the most?” I ask, and he stays silent for so long I wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“Probably my mamá or Mattia,” he says. The answer surprises me since I was expecting him to mention at least one of his brothers or something materialistic.
“Not one of your brothers?”
“Mattia is my brother. Not by blood, but by loyalty,” he says before falling silent again for a moment. “What about you?”
“My sister. I don’t think I could ever truly run away without taking her with me. It’s probably the only reason I’ve never tried.”
“What do you mean, never tried?”
“I think a part of me always knew if I tried to leave all of this, or tried to run away earlier, my father would just make Noelle replace me. I would never be able to live with myself if that happened. No one deserves to have their life controlled like this.”
“Neither do you,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “No one, especially not you,” he reiterates.
“I know, my mom never wanted this life for any of us; it’s part of the reason my father spiralled so much when she died. He finally had all the control, and he didn’t know what to do with it.”
“Power does some crazy things to people. Ambrose didn’t handle it well at first either after my papá died,” he says.
“Do you think your mamá would be happy with how things turned out for you?” His question takes me by surprise, because I haven’t given much thought to it—or at least I’ve tried not to, especially with how things turned out for her.
“I think at first she would’ve been pissed off, but I think she would’ve changed her mind by now, especially since I’m trying to live my own life with you helping me learn how to do that. I think she would’ve liked you.” I chuckle. “Do you think your mom likes me?”
“Not that it matters, but yes, she does,” he says.
“Of course it matters, she’s the woman who gave birth to you. And I know how much you care about her.” I swat his chest.
He breaks out into laughter. “She only calls to hear how you’re doing. I don’t think she worries about me anymore.”
“I’m sure she worries more than you know.”
“I hope not.” He falls silent after that.
“Please, can everyone take their seat as we begin our descent into Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport ?”
I sit upright and stare at Antonio, who has a wide smile across his face.
“Surprise.”