Page 109 of Beneath the Shadows

“You’re my wife,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ll say it again. I’ll say it as many times as I need to until you believe me. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not even me.”

Not even me.His words reach into a place I’d locked away long ago, stirring feelings I thought I’d buried.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s not just about my father, or Valentino. It’s about you, Antonio. I don’t know how to trust you.”

He steps closer, and I instinctively tense but he stops just short of touching me again. “I know you don’t trust me. I haven’t earned that yet. I’m asking you to give me a chance. Just one chance to prove I’m not like them.”

“And what if you betray me?” My voice wavers. “What if I let my guard down, and you hurt me like they did?”

“If I betray your trust, if you’re hurt because of me, then, I’ll let you go,” he says, his voice filled with conviction. “But I promise you, Alessia, I’m not here to win you over with empty words. I’ll earn your trust, one damn day at a time.”

His promise weaves its way through my defenses, no matter how much I fight it. I want to tell him I’ll never believe him, never trust him. But the truth is, a small part of me already does—and that terrifies me more than anything.

Behind the hardened man standing in front of me, I catch glimpses of the boy I once loved—the boy who made me feel safe, who felt like home. But if I were to believe him, to open my heart to him, and he hurt me again… I don’t know if I’d survive it. Some breaks can’t be mended, and I’m not sure the pieces of me could ever be put back together.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

He nods, as though he expected that answer. “I understand. I don’t expect it to happen today or tomorrow. That won’t stop me from working to earn your trust. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep," I warn, my voice sharp as I rebuild the walls around my heart, shutting down the part of me that almost dared to hope.

“I never do,” he replies, then turns and walks away.

The room feels empty without him. I sink into the chair, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. My gaze falls on the ring on my finger, a reminder of Domenica and Giovanni’s love. I hate that it makes me think about what could be—what might have been if things were different.

But more than that, I hate myself for even wanting to believe Antonio’s telling the truth. Because if I do, I’m terrified I’ll fall for him all over again—and this time, it will consume me completely.

Loving him would be like surrendering to the darkness, letting it wrap around me until I can’t tell where I end, and he begins.

If I lost him—that’s something I wouldn’t survive.

Antonio

What the hell was I thinking? Why did I beg Alessia to trust me—to give me a chance? I tell myself this marriage isn’t about love. It’s nothing more than a business deal. If that’s true, then why did it sting when Alessia said she’d never trust me? Why did it burn when she asked me to let her go?

Because it’s a lie, and I know it.

There was a time when I loved her—when we were younger, before everything went to hell. Alessia was the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about, the girl I loved. But life has a way of messing shit up.

I thought I buried those feelings, shoved them deep inside where they couldn’t reach me. Yet now, being close to her, hearing her voice, those feelings are clawing their way back to the surface. I had to leave, had to get away from her before I made more promises I’m not sure I can keep.

There’s too much to do, too much to fix. First on my list is finding Alessia’s identification cards. I step outside, hoping the fresh air will clear my head.

“Anton,” my mother calls from next door.

“Good morning,” I reply, walking over, even though I feel anything but good.

“You look exhausted. You really need to take better care of yourself.”

“It’s been a long few days,” I admit. “Dante and I had an unexpected trip to Alabama.”

“Alabama?” she asks. “Does this have to do with Alessia?”

I hesitate, uncertain how to explain the last twenty-four hours. “It does,” I say, my throat tightening as I admit the truth. “We were married last night.”

Her reaction isn’t immediate. She blinks, her expression unreadable. The seconds drag on, each one more tense than the last. “I didn’t realize you still had feelings for her.” Her voice is quiet and cautious.

I shake my head, trying to untangle the mess in my mind. “It’s not like that,” I manage, stumbling over my words. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

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