confirmation

FRANCESCA

Alessandro freezes, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he recovers quickly. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would’ve missed it.

“What about Pietro?” he asks, trying to sound casual. But I know better.

“Well, since you’re friends, I figured you might know something,” I say. “Like why he hasn’t stopped staring at me this entire party.”

Alessandro doesn’t react to my words, but I notice the slight twitch in his hand and the way his grip tightens on his glass. He’s angry.

But, strangely, I’m not scared. I’m starting to trust that most of Antonio’s men are decent. At least, the ones I’ve met so far.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Donna,” Alessandro says, his eyes narrowing, but not at me. He’s scanning the room, looking for someone.

“He’s in the right corner, glaring at us,” I tell him, taking a sip of my water.

Alessandro’s head whips to the right. “Donna, excuse me.” His voice is curt as he sets his drink down and starts to move.

I stop him. “No. We don’t need people thinking there’s trouble between the consigliere and the underboss. Do you really think Pietro would do anything, Alessandro?”

Alessandro looks shocked at how casually I call Pietro stupid. I’m surprised at myself too, but I don’t let it show.

I just called a man stupid. Not just any man, but an underboss in the mafia. This must’ve offended Alessandro. It would’ve offended the whole Family.

Alessandro should tell Antonio. That should scare me, but for some reason, it doesn’t. In fact, I want to piss Antonio off. I want to be petty for once.

I want him to realize he made a mistake by breaking my trust.

“No,” Alessandro says after a moment. “Pietro knows his limits. The Don has made it clear that no one is to touch the Donna.”

I nod, ignoring the warmth spreading in my heart. I’m about to reply when I see Antonio descending with the other four dons.

He and Vincent are at the front of the group. They’re not talking, but everyone knows they hold the real power. They’re enemies and allies, if that makes any sense.

Both men hate each other and would love to take the other down. But if another rival tried to take advantage, they’d always be on the same side.

Antonio nods at the other bosses and breaks away from them, heading our way.

“Don,” Alessandro greets him before walking away, leaving me alone with Antonio.

I raise an eyebrow as we awkwardly stare at each other. Then slow music starts playing and all the men are leading their women to the dance floor, even the other dons. This means I have to dance…with Antonio.

As I expected, Antonio extends his hand to me. “May I have this dance?” he asks softly. It feels strange.

I give him a fake smile and his eyes seem to light up. “Of course, Don Giordano.”

And then it’s gone. He takes my hand and leads me to the center of the room. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer than ever.

The lights dim and a blue glow bathes our faces. He leans down and kisses my forehead tenderly.

~What the hell is he doing? Public displays of affection are not allowed! It ~will~ make him look weak!~

“What are you doing?” I whisper harshly, gripping his arm tightly.

He looks down at me. “Kissing you.”

“I know that, but on my forehead?” I say. “That will make you se—”

“—seem less manly?” he finishes. “I know, ~bambola~.” He doesn’t explain further and honestly, he doesn’t need to. I get it. He’s trying to convince me to forgive him—to make things like they were before.

We move gracefully to the music. I’m suddenly grateful to my dance teacher. Despite my many failures, she never gave up on me. Because of her, I can dance without a problem.

I tilt my head up, meeting his intense gaze, and then I can’t look away. It’s like I’m under a spell. He has me, bewitched and at his mercy.

My feet move with the music, but my eyes stay locked with his, daring him to back down. He doesn’t, but neither do I.

Until he leans down and steals a kiss. “Antonio,” I hiss in warning.

A small smirk appears on his face. “You said my name again.”

I bite my tongue in embarrassment. I’m not going to forgive him. I can’t ever forgive him. I’m not ready and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.

The anger, the pain, it’s still too fresh.

“You just surprised me,” I tell him, looking over his shoulder. My eyes narrow as they meet Pietro’s.

~Honestly, ~what’s ~his problem? Maybe he’s just looking out for me,~ I think.~ Yes. Maybe that’s it. I’m just overthinking things again~.

Who am I trying to convince? I’m not a fool. I know he likes me. I’m just in denial. But I don’t want to take the risk.

Confusing Antonio, I rest my head on his chest so Pietro can’t see my face. From where he’s standing, this would look like a romantic pose.

Hopefully, he’ll remember who I’m with. Pietro may be a handsome hunk, but I would never choose him over Antonio. Even the thought makes me want to puke.

Antonio goes rigid. His hold on my waist tightens, but he doesn’t question me. Instead, he pulls me in closer. I like his warmth. I like Antonio a lot.

Apart from Arianna and Mother, he’s the only one I feel safe with. That is, until his stupid stunt and the manipulation. He’s toxicity at its finest.

“Francesca,” he whispers in my ear.

I don’t respond. Suddenly, my head starts spinning.

“I promise you that after today, Pietro won’t make you uncomfortable again,” he assures me.

~So he knows.~

“Just don’t kill him,” I mumble into his chest.

His hand on my bare back sends tingles through my stomach, despite my mixed feelings. “You have my word.”

And that’s the last thing I hear before darkness swallows me.

***

“What happened to her?” I hear someone whisper harshly.

“D-D-Don, it was the pregnancy symptoms. Francesca is—”

Antonio cuts him off. “Don’t say her name,” he says quietly. His voice is anything but calm. It’s threatening.

“Y-yes. M-Mrs. Giordano is two weeks pregnant. She fainted due to stress and lack of hydration,” the man explains.

I try to open my eyes, but the light is too bright.

“Take the light away,” my husband orders stiffly.

The brightness disappears. I feel someone grip my hand tightly. I instantly know it’s him. No other man would dare to hold my hand without my husband’s permission, not even Father.

“Open your eyes slowly,” Antonio says, his tone much softer. I grip his hand as I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut.

The first thing I see is the beige wall above me. When I tilt my head to the side, I see him looking down at me.

“H-how long was I out?” My voice is hoarse and stiff. I try to sit up, but my head feels heavy. Antonio places a hand on my back and pulls the pillow up so I can lean against it.

“Mrs. Giordano, you fell asleep right after you regained consciousness. You’ve been out for hours,” the doctor informs me.

I look around, realizing we’re not on the boat anymore. We’re back at the mansion, in our room.

“Get out,” Antonio commands.

The doctor stumbles out without a word. I look away from Antonio’s piercing gaze. The white duvet suddenly seems fascinating.

“I’m going to go take a bath,” I mumble, getting out of bed. I can’t stay in the same room with him alone. I need to avoid him at all costs.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see I’m still in my dress. But I also notice that Antonio’s shirt is buttoned up over my dress, covering the cleavage the dress had exposed.

I look up at him. He’s suddenly too close. I can feel his heat radiating off him.

“Francesca,” he says. “Can we talk?”

I lick my dry lips. “I’m very tired and I just want to take a bath and relax if that’s okay with you, Don.”

He stares down at me, his brows furrowed, but I can see the solemn expression hidden behind his features. “As you wish.” And then he steps back.

I walk past him without hesitation. Even though I know he’s watching me, I don’t look back. After all these days with him, I’ve learned two things.

One, never trust a Mafia man; and two, they love the chase. Everyone has a secret agenda. It’s only a matter of time before it’s revealed.

It’s a lesson Antonio has taught me well, and it’s a lesson I’ll never forget. It’s a lesson Antonio will regret ever teaching me.