Page 16 of Beautiful Vows

It makes so much sense. My father could never have afforded it, regardless of Jove telling me he’d re-mortgaged his house.

Antonio nods.

“How? Why you?” I implore, my voice cracking.

“Because I promised your mother I would do anything and everything to protect you,” he chokes, his voice strained with emotion. “And I followed you to Australia, knowing this is where you were. But I never expected the others to follow me here, too. And then you got too close to my world. I had no choice but to prepare you.”

Our eyes clash in an unspoken understanding.

“When Nicolai Bianchi made a call to his brother, telling him he found you. That you were at the party at his house and he would not kill you without him. But first, he wanted his brother to help him. They wanted to claim you together, record it, and then kill you.”

“No,” I gasp, feeling the ground shift beneath me. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, forming a picture I never wanted to see.

“How do you know?” Dominic questions, his voice laced with doubt.

“I can’t tell you,” Antonio replies.

Dante.

Tears lace my eyes as I nod my head. He always protected me.

I say nothing more while Antonio waits, confirming what my instincts have suspected.

Tears lace my eyes as I nod my head in silent acceptance.

Antonio, despite his faults, has always protected me in his own twisted way. The love and loyalty he held for my mother extended to me, his daughter.

“I need to go,” I whimper. Limping backward, I pick up my gun and hold it out, though deep down, I know I won’t shoot him.

“You can’t climb the wall, Lia. You’re not strong enough,” Antonio says, concern etched on his face.

Our eyes lock, and a groan escapes my lips, realizing just how much he knew about my clandestine entries into his house.

“Stay here until you are well again. I’ll look after you,” he pleads.

“No. I can’t.”

“Please... Please let me do this for you,” he implores, desperation apparent on his face.

“I don’t trust you,” I admit, my grip tightening on the gun.

“Then kill me,” he challenges, his gaze unwavering.

My finger trembles on the trigger as I point the gun at him. “I will one day. You should have stopped her.”

Antonio’s voice cuts through the air, his tone firm but tinged with regret. “I know. And I’ve regretted not intercepting her journey to Italy every day of my life. I also know you need rest. Please stay.”

“Your sons...”

“I’ll send them away.”

“No... I can’t deal with this right now,” I admit, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

The haziness of my thoughts cloud my vision once again.

“Let me help my daughter,” Antonio pleads, his gaze softening. “Let me get you well enough to not grimace when you point the gun in my face again. Let me get you well enough for you to relish killing me, as you did with Giuseppe. Because when the day comes, I won’t stop you.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the bitter reality swirling between us. I remember the party, the moment Antonio turned Giuseppe in my direction, sealing his fate.

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