Page 36 of Unholy Union

“Oh. I can tell him that.”

“Thanks.” I blow out a rough breath, rubbing my hand over my face. “How has Antonio been doing?” I want to be petty and not ask, but Antonio is still my brother. He’s been going through a lot of change lately. The least I can do is not stoop to his level.

“He’s tired. Busy, a lot. Cecilia,” Nina says, lowering her voice. “I know things have been tense between you and Antonio.I know he’s making you marry someone you don’t want to, and I’ve told him it’s wrong. He’s just really feeling the pressure to make an impression as boss, and unfortunately, it’s making him lose his way when it comes to you.”

I sit down on my bed, all the energy leaving me. “I appreciate you understanding where I’m coming from and that you’ve spoken to Antonio about it. You’re a good person, Nina.”

“So are you. And so is Antonio. You know, before he killed your uncle, when he was still in hiding, he would talk about his family. Tell me stories about his sisters. Mainly his favorite sister. You.”

The tears hit my eyes before I can stop them. “Oh, yeah?” I try to keep my voice from sounding choked.

“Yeah. He missed you the most. And after, when he had you guys back in his life, he was the happiest to have you back.”

“Then why is he doing this to me?” I ask, scrubbing my hand over my eyes.

“I think he doesn’t know what to do. He’s trying to be the boss, and it’s made him lose his way as a brother. But I know the Antonio who loves you is in there. You just need to dig deeper to find him.”

“Ok, thanks,” I say quickly. “Tell Antonio to call me.” I hang up before the tears can spill from my eyes. And I cry like I haven’t cried since I lost my dad.

Someone knocks at my door. My mom pokes her head in, sees me crying, and comes over to comfort me. “Cecilia. Honey?” She wraps me in her arms, being the supportive mom I need right now.

She lets me cry until there’s nothing left. “Are you ok?” she asks, rubbing my arms.

“I’m not ok with any of this. But I’m not giving up. I need to convince Antonio to not for me to marry Salvatore. I have to try.”

Mom gives me a pitying smile. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. But, honey, I’m going to temper your expectations. Mafia men tend to only listen to other Mafia men and not the women in their lives.”

I pull away from her. “Not Antonio. He’s not like the others. He can’t be. Because if I believe that, then that means Antonio is okay with throwing me to the wolves for power. I think he’s lost and needs to be reminded of who his family is. Who he fought so hard for. It was us. It was me. It was to save us from Franco. I have to talk to Antonio and remind him.” I stand up, but Mom grabs my hand, stopping me.

“Cecilia, there’s a reason I came into your room. It was to tell you something.” The worried look on her face sends sheer panic through my heart.

“What is it?”

“It’s Theo.” She lets out a sigh. “He was attacked last night and is in the hospital. He’s just out of surgery, and he called me to let me know he wouldn’t be able to make it in. I thought you’d want to know.”

Time slows around me. “Attacked? What … what do you mean?”

“He didn’t give much detail. He sounded a little out of it, given what he went through. I’m sure he’ll tell us more once he’s better. For now, our other guard, Sam, will take over.”

“I need to see him.” The words are out before I can stop them.

Mom frowns. “See him? Honey, Theo’s in the hospital. He’s probably not up for visitors. He just got out of surgery.”

“So? He needs someone there; I’m sure of it.”

“Cecilia, Theo has a family,” she says pointedly. Her words are like a slap in the face. “They’ll check on him. You’re not his family. He works for us. Nothing more. You shouldn’t go see him.”

“Why not?”

There it is again—that pitying look. “Honey, is there something going on between you and Theo I need to know about?”

My heart almost rips out of my chest. “What?” I shake my head frantically. “Nothing. Nothing is going on between us. Theo sees me as his job, nothing more. Don’t worry. I just want to make sure he’s okay. Can’t I do that, at least?”

She stares at me for a beat too long before answering. “Salvatore wouldn’t like it.”

I huff. “I don’t care what Salvatore likes or doesn’t like. He doesn’t own me. He can’t dictate where I go and who I’m around.”

“Not yet,” she reminds me. “But soon. And a man like Salvatore Fontana is not a man whose bad side you want to be on.”

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