Page 12 of The Brat's Bargain

CHAPTER 5

FAMILY MATTERS

Antonio stood before the mirror in Damien's opulent bathroom, his reflection a stranger in tailored designer clothes. The suit fit him like a second skin, accentuating his lean physique in ways that made him uncomfortable. This wasn't him. This was some polished, pretty pet that Damien had created.

As he adjusted his tie for the hundredth time, a memory crashed over him like a wave...

***-

"Stand up straight, Antonio," Vivian Lombardi hissed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his shoulder. "This is an important night for the family. Don't embarrass me."

Fifteen-year-old Antonio squirmed in his ill-fitting suit, hating every second of this stuffy gathering. "Why do I have to be here?" he whined. "It's not like anyone cares what I think anyway."

Vivian's grip tightened painfully. "Because you're a Lombardi, and it's time you started acting like one. Your brothers never gave me this much trouble."

Antonio's cheeks burned with shame and resentment. Always the troublemaker, always the disappointment. Never measuring up to his perfect older siblings.

"Maybe I don't want to be a Lombardi," he muttered under his breath.

The slap came out of nowhere, leaving his cheek stinging and his eyes wide with shock. Vivian leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. "You don't have a choice, boy. This is who you are, who you'll always be. The sooner you accept that, the easier your life will be."

As she swept away to greet some important guest, Antonio blinked back tears. He'd never felt more alone in a room full of family.

***-

A sharp knock on the bathroom door jolted Antonio back to the present. "Hurry up in there, pet," Damien's deep voice called out. "We have a schedule to keep."

Antonio took a shaky breath, pushing the painful memory aside. "Coming," he called back, giving his reflection one last critical look.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Damien's eyes raked over him appreciatively. "Much better," he purred, reaching out to adjust Antonio's collar. "You clean up nicely when you're not being a brat."

Antonio bristled at the backhanded compliment. "Glad I meet your exacting standards," he snarked. "Should I roll over and beg now, or save that for later?"

Damien's hand shot out, gripping Antonio's chin firmly. "Careful, pet," he warned, voice low and dangerous. "You're already on thin ice after yesterday's little stunt at the boutique. Push me too far, and you might not like the consequences."

Heat pooled in Antonio's belly at the threat, his body's traitorous response to Damien's dominance. He swallowed hard, dropping his gaze. "Sorry... sir."

Damien's grip softened, his thumb brushing Antonio's lower lip in a gesture that was almost tender. "Good boy," he murmured. "Now, let's go. We have a charity gala to attend."

As they made their way to the waiting car, Antonio's mind raced. A public event, full of Chicago's elite. The chances of running into someone who knew him, who might report back to his family... it was a risk he wasn't sure he was ready to take.

But as Damien's hand came to rest possessively on the small of his back, guiding him into the limousine, Antonio realized he didn't have a choice. He was in too deep now, caught in Damien's web with no clear way out.

The drive to the gala was tense, Antonio's nerves stretched to the breaking point. Damien seemed to sense his unease, his large hand coming to rest on Antonio's thigh in a gesture that was equal parts comforting and possessive.

"Relax, pet," he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on the expensive fabric of Antonio's slacks. "You'll do fine. Just stay close to me and follow my lead."

Antonio nodded jerkily, trying to ignore the way Damien's touch sent sparks skittering across his skin. "And if someone recognizes me?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Damien's grip tightened, just shy of painful. "Then you'll introduce me as your mentor and benefactor. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Antonio replied, his throat suddenly dry.

As they pulled up to the glittering venue, another memory surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome...

***-

"I'm not going to college," eighteen-year-old Antonio declared, chin lifted in defiance. "I don't need some fancy degree to work for the family."

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