23. Antonio
Antonio takes a sip of red wine, his eyes rolling and rolling, until—
What the hell?
“Hello, my son.”
Antonio takes in his mother’s dark tone, but it’s the way she walked up with Alex that literally stuns him.
“Mrs. Moretti, Hi!”
Laura moves her gaze to Antonio’s unsolicited visitor. “Hello, Chelsea.”
“It’s lovely to see you. Antonio and I were just—”
“That’s lovely, Chelsea. Have you met Alex? His date?” A sinister smile is plastered on Laura’s face.
“You brought someone with you tonight?” Chelsea asks. “She must’ve been hiding. I get it; not everyone is cut out for these things.”
“Well, I certainly enjoyed our accidental encounter in the restroom more than I have anything—or anyone—out here,” Laura rebuts. “Maybe I’m not cut out, either.” She laughs, but Antonio knows that laugh very well.
He continues to let his mother do the talking, as he lacks any motivation to interact with Chelsea Bassett. It wasn’t a coincidence the moment Alex left his side, she sniffed him out like a bloodhound.
With the way Alex is smiling but also pulverizing her ear, Antonio knows it’s time to migrate. He steps to her and grabs that hand. “I need a refill,” he says. “We’ll catch up with you later, Ma.”
Once there’s a bit of distance, Antonio asks, “Are you OK?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Alex’s other hand wiggles the shiny, tear-drop stud on her ear.
“Hey. Look at me.” Antonio takes her chin in his hand. “Her name is Chelsea Bassett. She’s…an old friend of the family, and the only reason I didn’t move was that I wanted you to be able to find me. I swear I wasn’t listening to anything she said. She’s probably the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.”
“You don’t have to be rude to her to save face with me.”
“I’m sorry. Can we talk somewhere else?”
Antonio leads Alex to a balcony overlooking a large, tiered fountain with dynamic lights. The sound of the running water is just loud enough to keep the secrets of the conversations that happen here. It’s also just a stunning view.
“Woah,” Alex whispers, walking past him and leaning on the barrier.
He places his arms at her sides and his lips right at her ears. “I’m fucking this up, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s…fine.”
“Is it?”
“I mean, you did spend most of the night schmoozing. And I wish you would have moved away from Chelsea. You could’ve just called me. And you know, you haven’t said shit about my dress. But it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
His stomach tightens with muted laughter.
“Are you seriously laughing at me?”
“Not at you. At the situation.”
“What situation is that?”
Antonio places his hands on top of hers, running his thumbs along her palm lines. Alex sighs softly and presses her ass back, while he leans forward. It’s a dangerous move, but there’s enough dress between them to keep things in a safe zone. For now. “The very thing that makes me want to stay like this with you, is the same thing that makes me want to…do the opposite.”
“Explain.”
“I’ve said a lot about this dress. Mentally. ‘Cuz looking at you in this dress…” Antonio’s voice rasps as he plays with a layer of tulle. “Gorgeous, this dress. Makes me wanna know what it would look like on my floor. What you would look like on my bed, your hands tied to the post, legs wrapped around me…” He whispers, “I wanna hear you stuttering in my ear as I find out what the rest of you feels like…tastes like. I wanna know if I can get that smell of mint in your hair to be all over my sheets. Alex, even just the thought of finally fucking the hell out of you has got me on top of the world right now. And although I know the actual thing will be amazing, I can’t help but think about how I’ll only get to experience this specific feeling one time. So a part of me wants to hold onto it, you know?”
Antonio watches Alex’s chest rise and fall. He hears her choppy breaths. He feels her fingers curl. And if he were to kiss her as he wants, their time at the Ball would end. So he dials it back and peels away to stand beside her.
“Antonio Leonardo Moretti.” Alex scoffs. “You are…”
“What? Did I overdo it?”
She loops her arm around his and stares out at the fountain until her phone buzzes. “Come on,” she says after looking at it. “Yuna asked us to come back down and dance.”
Antonio tips Alex’s chin so he can kiss her, restoring a tiny amount of the self-control he spent sharing his plans for their sleepover. She clutches his hand and ushers him down to the ballroom, where Yuna and Frankie hold a section big enough for their pairs.
The music then slows down, as if the DJ was waiting for them. Antonio pulls Alex into his arms and avoids the sight of Frankie’s eyebrows hopping up and down.
Alex rests her head against his chest, and they stay welded to one another for two more songs.
“Look what we have here.”
Antonio hears a small gasp from Alex as she grips his bicep. He looks over his shoulder and watches Ivan Komarov and his audacity disrupt their evening.
Maybe “invade” or “infest” are better terms, as it’s something like watching a rat scamper through a restaurant after an excellent meal.
Antonio turns around, shielding Alex. “Mr. Komarov, I thought we made a very clear deal?”
“Ah, come now. I’m simply expressing my delight that the two of you were able to overcome such a tremendous…complication. It seems you’re more suited to the life than you thought, Ms. Agneau.”
Alex stutters, so Antonio steps in again. “There’s really no need for you to talk to her anymore.”
“Oh? Are you worried I might share something I shouldn’t?”
Frankie and Yuna, who drifted off slightly, spin towards them. “You good, brother?”
Antonio breathes deeply. “Yeah.” As much as Antonio would like to knock Alex’s former boss down a few pegs, he’s more interested in recovering the trajectory of their night before it goes completely off-track. Which it definitely would, if people like Chelsea and Komarov are at the forefront of Alex’s mind. “I think we’ve spent enough time here, don’t you, gorgeous?”
“Absolutely.”
They say their goodbyes, Komarov receiving an excessively civil one.
“You OK?” Antonio asks, practically carrying Alex towards the entrance.
“Oh, what? ‘Cuz of that guy? Pfft. I’m peachy.”
“Alex.”
She fans under her arms. “Does he usually come to these things? He didn’t just get a ticket to fuck with us?”
“No, you have to be invited.”
“Oh, well… I’m fine. And I’d rather not think about him.”
“Excuse me,” a surly voice says.
Antonio doesn’t pay it any mind, but it’s enough to make Alex stop walking. Except when he turns, he finds out it wasn’t the voice at all, but the hand grabbing her elbow. It belongs to a man dressed in what looks like a warehouse-grade security guard outfit. His jacket, walkie-talkie, and glasses all look plastic and cheap.
“Uh, can you let go of me?” Alex asks.
He does not.
“It’s not a request,” Antonio says gravely. “Move your hand.”
The man raises his other hand as if to silence Antonio. “Sir, please.” He turns his attention back to Alex. “Please come with me.”
“For what?” Alex asks. “Who even are you?”
“Miss, I’m part of the security team hired for tonight’s event.” The man maneuvers his badge (even more plastic-looking) so they can see his name and the agency icon. “We’ve received a report of someone matching your description trying to abscond with items stolen from a guest. It’s preferable if we discuss this elsewhere so as to not cause a scene.”
“If you don’t want to cause a scene then you probably shouldn’t be grabbing people like this,” Alex says. “And what description do I match exactly?”
He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t have to. He still holds on, though.
“If you’d like to keep those fingers,” Antonio says quietly, “you’ll let go in the next negative-two seconds.”
“Sir, I—”
Antonio curls his hand around the guard’s wrist, and only then is Alex’s elbow released. The nerve of three people in a row to ruin her night makes his blood boil.
Oddly enough, the piece of the tenet that makes Antonio want to protect Alex is the one respectable lesson he’d thought Donny taught him at a very young age. Any woman he decides to attach himself to, romantically or otherwise, should never have to defend herself when he’s around. Unfortunately, the other part to that was learning how to be the one to defend her. Those lessons weren’t anywhere near as noble. In fact, when they’d first started, Antonio felt as though he’d had to become a different version of himself, until that version took over completely. Like it tries to now. Antonio feels himself squeezing the guard’s wrist tighter, but he doesn’t feel in control.
“Hey. Leo?” Alex’s voice reaches him, as does her palm to his cheek, and the monster recedes.
That’s the second time she’s seen him like this. “Do not. Touch her. Again,” Antonio declares, letting go of the guard.
“And here.” Alex shoves her purse into the guard’s hand. “Check it for whatever the hell you’re looking for. While we’re at it, maybe you’d like me to take my dress off so you can be extra sure I don’t have it? We can add sexual harassment to our complaint.”
Antonio’s head snaps her way, wanting to confirm she’s not serious. He also catches the curious eyes desperate for a different kind of entertainment.
Alex snatches her purse back after the guard finishes his search. “Did you find the diamonds?” she asks with sharp sarcasm. “And there should have been a watch in there somewhere.”
“M-My sincerest apologies, ma’am.” The guard’s tone has lost all its brashness, and he can’t look anywhere but the ground, probably in search of the job Antonio will make sure he loses.
He could probably make it happen now, but…he’ll leave it for tomorrow. Right now, getting Alex out of this shitshow is his priority.
He cradles her hand and guides her to the entrance, feeling a bit claustrophobic as he bumps into many more elbows than when they’d arrived. He feels as if he should say something, but he’s unsure of what that should be. An apology for her experience being the opposite of what he’d hoped? Of course he’d thought about the scrutiny she’d get as his date in general, but is he the asshole for not considering what her entire experience could be like?
Antonio hears something strange that causes him to look down at Alex. The woman is humming. Humming and smiling, and it’s strange as hell. Then again, it’s not. This is Alex, the woman who believes most days, happiness is as simple as making a choice. Her choice tonight is clearly to not let these last twenty minutes ruin their earlier three hours or the next however many are coming up.
The driver opens the door to the limo the moment they approach. It’s Yuna’s rental, but she’d insisted they take it back to his loft.
Alex scoots into the corner, still humming. Her leg pokes out from that slit in her dress, summoning Antonio to sit next to her and drape his hand between her legs.
He lodges his face between Alex’s neck and shoulder, partaking in any skin his lips can reach. Her knees detach from each other and welcome him to slide higher between her thighs. Antonio might not have been able to form the right words earlier, but he sure can find a way to make her focus on something else entirely for the drive to his loft.