Page 76 of Stalk Me

My eyes burn as I slowly lift my arms to return his hug. He’s muttering in Italian again, pressing kisses to the top of my head between words I don’t understand. His grip tightens, desperate like he’s trying to make up for twenty years of missed embraces in this single moment.

Tears stream down my cheeks as Antonio holds me. The dam inside me breaks, releasing years of loneliness and loss. Since losing my adoptive parents, I’ve carried the weight of being completely alone in the world. No family left to call my own, no one to turn to in need.

His arms—unfamiliar yet somehow known—tighten around me as years of loss and confusion finally break free in wrackingsobs. The expensive fabric of his suit grows damp beneath my cheek, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“It’s okay,piccola,” he whispers, switching to English. “I’m here now. As long as I’m alive, you’ll never be alone again.”

My chest squeezes at his words. I pull away, wiping my eyes to glance at him. “That won’t be long, will it?”

The pain that flashes across his face confirms my fears. His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing away fresh tears. His green-gold eyes—my eyes—shine with unshed tears of his own.

“I should have found you sooner,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “All these years, I kept away from fear of what Lucia would do to you... I’m so sorry, Sofia.”

I lean into his touch, allowing myself to feel the connection I’ve craved for so long. The hole in my heart that even Nikolai couldn’t fill begins to heal, even as it breaks anew, knowing our time together will be short.

I take a steadying breath, pulling back from Antonio’s embrace. “Mario told me about the plan. About finding me a ‘suitable’ Italian husband to secure the family’s future.”

Antonio’s expression shifts, a shadow crossing his features.

“Is that what you want for me? An arranged marriage, like you had with Lucia?” My voice cracks. “The same woman who—from what I understand—is why we were separated in the first place?”

He steps back, running a hand through his silver hair. “Sofia...”

“You loved my mother—Maria—didn’t you? But they made you marry Lucia instead.” I watch pain flash across his face at my birth mother’s name. “And look how that turned out. My mother dead, me hidden away in America, and you trapped in a loveless marriage.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” he says softly, but I can see the truth in his eyes.

“Wasn’t it? They’re trying to do the same thing to me now. Continue this cycle of control and manipulation.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I won’t do it. I won’t let them force me to marry someone I don’t love.”

Antonio sinks into a nearby chair, looking suddenly older and more fragile. “I lost everything because I didn’t fight hard enough for your mother. For you.” His fingers trace the signet ring on his hand. “I let them convince me it was for the best, for the family. But they were wrong.”

“Then help me,” I plead. “Don’t let them do to me what they did to you.”

Antonio’s shoulders slump as he leans forward in the chair. “Mario is... traditional. Set in his old ways. He believes bloodlines are everything.”

“But surely there are others who could take over? Cousins?” I pace in front of the window.

“Yes, there are cousins.” He rubs his temple. “The Castellano line would continue through them. But Mario...” Antonio’s voice drops. “He wants to prove something. To show everyone that the issue wasn’t with me.”

I stop pacing, turning to face him. “What do you mean?”

“For years, Lucia spread rumors that I was... unable to father children.” His jaw clenches. “That’s why we had no heirs. But you...” His eyes meet mine, filled with pride. “You’re living proof that she was the one who couldn’t conceive.”

The weight of his words settles over me. All these years of secrets and lies, power plays and reputation. And now I’m caught in the middle of it.

“I won’t let them force you into anything,” Antonio says firmly, standing up. “I made that mistake once, letting them control my life, my choices. I lost your mother because of it.” He crosses to me, taking my hands in his. “I won’t lose you too.”

His grip tightens, and I see determination replace the earlier weakness in his stance. “You’re my daughter. My blood. But more importantly, you’re your own person. If Mario can’t accept that...” He straightens his shoulders. “Then he’ll have to find another way to preserve his precious legacy.”

I wrap my arms around Antonio, breathing in his expensive cologne. “Thank you for understanding. For standing up to Mario.” My voice catches. “For choosing me over tradition.”

He strokes my hair, the gesture so paternal makes my chest ache. “I should have done it years ago,piccola.”

Drawing back, I smooth my skirt. “So I can go home? Back to Boston?”

Antonio’s face falls, lines deepening around his mouth. “I had hoped...” He clears his throat. “The treatments keep me here in Florence. The specialists, they say...” His hands tremble slightly as he adjusts his cuffs. “I don’t have much time left, Sofia. Months, maybe.”

I’ve just found him, and already, time is slipping away.

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