Page 118 of Beneath the Shadows

As I look into the endless blue depth in his eyes, a new feeling takes root—faith. Faith in him, in us, and in the fragile hope that we could become something more.

Antonio

The past few weeks have been tense, filled with arguments with Dante about installing a security system. He pushed hard, but I stood my ground—this house isn’t going to feel like a cage. I’m fully capable of protecting my wife without making her feel trapped.

Today, though, my focus is entirely on Alessia. It’s her birthday, though she doesn’t realize I remember, which will make the surprise even more meaningful. I set a sleek black box with a silver bow on the side table in the living room. Inside is a new camera. She misses her photography, and I miss the light in her eyes when she’s behind the lens, fully absorbed in capturing the world as she sees it.

The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the air as I stir the sauce, glancing at the clock. Alessia left early this morning with Cecilia. She’d been hesitant to reach out, worried that Cecilia might be angry at being left in the dark. Cecilia, on the other hand, was certain Alessia would hate her as an extension of her anger toward me. Thankfully, they were able to reconnect and have grown close, something that’s brought them both a sense of peace.

Their outing worked in my favor today, giving me the chance to prepare. I don’t mind cooking, but baking—that’s another story. I followed the recipe to the letter. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple vanilla cake with frosting, but I hope it’ll make her smile.Happy Birthday Alessiais scrawled in shaky gel writing. I stare at it, wondering if it’s enough.

I want tonight to be perfect.

Stepping back, I glance at the table set for two, thoughts drifting to how far we’ve come. Just a few weeks ago, she was all anger and distance. Something I don’t blame her for. She thought she’d escaped this life, and I dragged her back. Worse, I forced her into a marriage she didn’t want.

It was a necessary evil, but evil nonetheless.

Since the knife incident, she’s lowered her defenses—just enough to let me slip through. It’s a subtle shift, barely noticeable, but it’s there in the quiet moments we share. The way she looks at me now, with an expression other than fear or distrust. There’s more—something warmer yet fragile. I’ve made it a point to be here more often, leaving the restaurant in Enzo’s capable hands.

Alessia needs to see that I’m here for her, that I’m invested in this. In us.

We’ve even started doing simple things together, like watching those old eighties romance movies she loves, Say Anything and Pretty in Pink, films I’d never choose on my own. But now, I watch her, captivated by the way her eyes light up during those moments when the characters confess their love. I want to be the man who makes Alessia look like that.

Sometimes we cook together. Alessia taught me how to bake cookies like her Nonna used to—just soft enough in the middle. She laughs when I mess up, when flour ends up on my face or sauce splashes on my shirt. Her laugh—it’s like music, something I could lose myself in. There’s something intimate about sharing these everyday moments with her.

She’s hesitant, still guarded, but she’s letting me in. Slowly. She’s allowing me to see the real Alessia, the one she’s kept hidden for so long. And damn it, I’m falling for her.

I’m falling hard.

It’s not only about my need to protect her, though that instinct is stronger than ever. It’s about her trusting me, leaning on me, needing me. I want to be the man she turns to when things get hard, the man who makes her feel safe. I want her love, even if I don’t deserve it.

But I can’t let my guard down. Draco’s threats hang over us like a storm cloud, and every day the danger grows. I haven’t told Alessia that the messages keep coming. Ominous notes have been left at the restaurant and another outside our house.

I’m trying to shield her from as much as possible, but I see the fear in her eyes every time my phone rings. How her body tenses as if expecting the worst.

Each night before we go to our separate rooms to sleep, I double-check the locks. But it isn’t enough. She’s still scared, and I hate that I can’t take that fear away.

Draco needs to be dealt with. But how? I can’t just kill him and be done with it—he’s her father, and that complicates everything. Starting an all-out war would mean losing everything, including her.

The front door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at the time—she’s right on schedule. A smile pulls at my lips.

“Antonio?” Her voice is soft, uncertain.

“In the kitchen,” I call, setting the glasses of wine on the table. I turn as she steps in, her eyes going wide at the sight of the table, the dinner I’ve prepared, and her cake.

“What’s all this?” she asks, her voice thin, as though she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

I move closer, my heart pounding harder than I care to admit. “Happy Birthday,tesoro.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “How did you know?”

“Back in high school, you tried to keep it quiet, but I never forgot.”

Her eyes well up with tears, and for a moment, I think I’ve done something wrong. I step closer, worry settling in the pit of my stomach. “If you don’t like it, I can make something else, or we can order out?—”

“It’s not that,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as she looks between the dinner and the cake sitting on the counter. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“You’ve never had a birthday party?”

---