Page 29 of The Brat's Bargain

"Shh," Damien soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to Antonio's temple. "I know, sweetheart. Not yet. But soon. When you're healed up, Daddy's going to remind you exactly who you belong to."

The promise in those words made Antonio shudder, equal parts anticipation and trepidation coursing through him. He wanted it—God, how he wanted it. But the rational part of his brain, the part not clouded by lust and pain medication, knew they needed to talk. To address the lies and manipulations that had brought them to this point.

Before he could voice his concerns, a knock at the door interrupted the charged moment between them. Vivian Lombardi entered, her sharp eyes taking in the intimate tableau with poorly concealed disapproval.

"Antonio," she said, moving to her son's bedside. "How are you feeling, darling?"

Antonio forced a smile, acutely aware of Damien's hand still resting possessively on his thigh. "Better, Mom. The doctors say I should be able to go home soon."

Vivian's lips thinned at the word 'home,' her gaze flicking to Damien. "Yes, well. About that. I've had the guest room at the compound prepared for your recovery. You'll be much more comfortable there, surrounded by family."

The implication was clear—family that didn't include Damien. Antonio felt the older man stiffen beside him, tension radiating from his large frame.

"That won't be necessary," Damien said, his voice deceptively calm. "Antonio will be coming home with me. I have everything arranged for his care."

Vivian's eyes flashed dangerously. "I hardly think that's appropriate, given the circumstances. Antonio needs to be with his family, not... whatever this is."

"Mom," Antonio started, but Damien cut him off.

"With all due respect, Vivian," he growled, "Antonio is a grown man capable of making his own decisions. And he's chosen to be with me."

The words hung heavy in the air, a gauntlet thrown down. Antonio's heart raced, torn between the fierce protectiveness Damien offered and the familiar pull of family obligation.

"Is that true?" Vivian asked, her gaze boring into Antonio. "Have you chosen... this?"

Antonio swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both Damien and Vivian's expectations pressing down on him. "I... I need time to think," he said finally, hating the weakness in his voice. "This is all happening so fast."

Disappointment flashed across Damien's face, quickly masked by a neutral expression. "Of course," he said stiffly, releasing Antonio's hand and standing. "Take all the time you need. I'll be outside if you want to speak with your mother privately."

As Damien strode out of the room, back ramrod straight, Antonio felt a piece of his heart go with him. But he pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the conversation he knew was coming.

Vivian wasted no time once they were alone. "Antonio, darling, you can't seriously be considering staying with that man. After everything he's done, everything he represents..."

"You don't know him," Antonio protested weakly. "He's not what you think."

Vivian's laugh was bitter. "Oh, I know his type all too well. Men like Damien Benedetti don't change, Antonio. They don't love. They possess, they control, they destroy. Is that really what you want for yourself?"

Antonio closed his eyes, memories of Damien's tenderness warring with the cold, brutal efficiency he'd witnessed. "I don't know what I want anymore," he admitted softly. "I just... I need space. To figure things out."

Vivian nodded, patting his hand. "Of course, darling. And you'll have all the time you need. At home, with your real family."

As she swept out of the room, leaving Antonio alone with his tumultuous thoughts, he felt the walls closing in. The weight of expectations, of family duty and dangerous desire, threatened to suffocate him.

When Damien returned, his face was a mask of careful neutrality. But Antonio could see the tension in his jaw, the barely contained emotion in his eyes.

"So," Damien said, voice deceptively casual. "Have you made your decision?"

Antonio took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. "I need time, Damien. Away from all of this. From you, from my family... I need to figure out what I really want."

Damien's eyes narrowed, a flicker of hurt quickly replaced by anger. "What you want? I thought that was clear, baby boy. Or was all of that just an act? The way you begged for me, cried out for your Daddy..."

Heat flooded Antonio's cheeks, arousal and shame warring within him. "That's not fair," he snapped. "You can't use that against me. Not when you've been manipulating me from the start."

"Manipulating you?" Damien growled, advancing on the bed. "Is that what you think this is? Some game I'm playing?"

Antonio lifted his chin defiantly, ignoring the way his heart raced at Damien's proximity. "Isn't it? The great Damien Benedetti, seducing the Lombardi heir for his own gain. Tell me, was any of it real? Or was I just a convenient fuck toy to help you take down my family?"

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and cutting. Damien's eyes blazed with a mixture of fury and something deeper, more vulnerable.

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