Page 59 of The Seventh Circle
I did know it. The knowledge sat like lead in my stomach. I'd seen what happened to those who betrayed the family, who threatened its reputation or standing. My own father had ordered such deaths, and I had witnessed enough to know they were never clean or quick.
"We could go to the police," I suggested without conviction.
Antonio laughed bitterly. "The police your father pays? The commissioner who dines at your table?"
I slumped against the wall, the weight of our situation crushing down on me. "I won't lose you, Tonio. I can't."
His expression softened as he moved toward me, cupping my face in his calloused hands. "You won't. But we need to be smarter than Paolo."
I leaned into his touch. "He's three steps ahead of us."
"Then we change the game." Antonio's eyes darkened with resolve. "Your father values strength above all else, yes? He respects power and decisive action."
"Yes, but—"
"Then we confront him directly."
I pulled back, stunned. "You can't be serious."
"I am. Not about us—not yet. But about Paolo's interference." Antonio began pacing again, his mind working. "Paolo is undermining you, the heir. That weakens the family in the eyes of others. Your father may not care about your happiness, but he cares about the family's strength and reputation."
"You're suggesting I challenge Paolo's actions before my father?"
"I'm suggesting you assert yourself as the heir. Make it clear that Paolo is acting against the family's interests by undermining you."
It was risky—dangerously so. But there was a certain logic to it. My father prized strength and decisiveness, qualities I'd been deliberately showing less of as I planned our escape. Perhaps it was time to remind him—and Paolo—exactly who was heir.
"It would buy us time," I said slowly. "If I appear to recommit to the family, to the marriage..."
"While we find another way out," Antonio finished.
I studied his face in the fading light. "It would mean I'd have to continue with Sophia, attend dinners, plan a wedding I have no intention of going through with. Our timeline will have to be extended."
"And I'd have to work with Paolo, pretend I know nothing of his suspicions." His jaw tightened. "But it would keep us both close to home, able to plan properly."
"What about your family?"
"I'll convince them to visit my mother's cousin in Firenze—tell them it's a matter of Benedetto business, not personal safety. Just for a few weeks."
I nodded, trying to imagine a path through the tangled web Paolo had woven around us. "We'd need to meet in secret, find a way to communicate..."
"Father Giuseppe," Antonio suggested. "He already knows about us, and Paolo would never suspect a priest of aiding us."
It wasn't a perfect plan—far from it. But it might give us the breathing room we needed to find a more permanent solution.
"So we stay," I said, the words tasting bitter. "We play our roles, bide our time, and look for another way out."
Antonio pulled me close, his forehead resting against mine. "For now. Just for now."
As the last light faded from the villa's broken windows, we held each other in the growing darkness, both knowing that the game we were playing had just become infinitely more dangerous—and that the stakes were our very lives.
LORENZO
I stood outside Father's study, my heart hammering against my ribs. Antonio's words echoed in my mind:Your father values strength above all else. He respects power and decisive action.I adjusted my cuffs, took a deep breath, and knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door.
"Enter."
Father sat behind his massive desk, glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed ledgers. Paolo stood at his shoulder, pointing to something on the page. The perfect image oftrusted advisor and heir apparent—a position that was rightfully mine.
