Between The Flames ⚜️Il Paradosso Book Two⚜️

Chapter thirty-eight

The clinking of glasses disrupted my silent brooding. I had been studying the velvet serviette, folded neatly under my untouched plate.

"Cara, eat something. It is not good for your strength. Holding a grudge with your food will only weaken you."

As if Cecilia's homemade ravioli, prepared to perfection, was at fault.
It had been six agonizing weeks since Antonio vanished into the stormy night. And this snake-sitting adjacent me-knew exactly where he was.

As he ate his dinner in silence, I prayed it would be his last. The way he stuffed his face, like there wasn't a single burden on his broad shoulders. As if this entire predicament wasn't a hornets' nest. But in his fucked up world, this seemed to be the norm.
It made me want to stab him with a fork.

Maria's hand clasped over mine. A small reminder that she was still here. She hadn't left my side, ever since that unfaithful day we had returned to Italy.

Some nights I wanted her to leave, so I could bury my face into a pillow and scream in peace. But, it all came with the territory. Someone had to watch over the husbandless twenty-six year old. I couldn't argue with Maria but at times, it was overwhelming.

I wanted to remove the edge of the sharp steel that had been plunged into my stomach.

It sunk deep, making it difficult to breathe. And the constant jabs that his brother threw at me-every chance he could get-twisted the blade until my insides bled.

It was another firm reminder of where her fealty stood. That no matter how much Maria cared for me or the amount of respect Niccolo had for his mother, her son's authority could easily overpower it.
He hadn't been bluffing when he'd warned me of his rigorous approach, to leading what his brother had entrusted in him.

I wasn't allowed to leave the mansion and if I happened to express any desire to, he was to be informed of it. Niccolo Montanari had completely taken over the role of a Mafia Boss and if anyone happened to flout his edict, they would be at the receiving end of his mania.

He was a zealous leader. He seemed to enjoy playing the part with piety. Well, he was hardly someone to label as spiritual but he ruled like it was his religion.

He had a full set of rules ready to be put in motion, as soon as we landed from Barbados. He'd practically salivated at the thought of taking control over what I did or said, while under his roof. He might as well have drilled them into my forehead, for me to walk around with because I wasn't exactly an easy compliant.

If Antonio's father wasn't rotting in his grave, I don't know what he would have done with the fact that-his killing machine-was being mauled by his mistress's daughter, on a daily basis. Rhetorically.

"Is there something you need to get off of your chest?" I seethed. His knife came down slowly, chewing on the last of his pasta as I waited.
I was adamant to start a fight. I wanted him to know how I felt about him constantly treating me like a threat. Like I was accountable for his brother's current status and legal matters.

As if I was the one who established this idiotic chain of criminal organization, they religiously succored.

"Finish your meal, Adriana."
"What if I choose not to? Will that be a problem to his majesty?"

His head craned to the side and he leaned back, studying me. Vinnie was chewing loudly from his left, his eyes darting between the two of us.
If I had to listen to the smacking of his lips day in, day out, that alone would be the death of me. Hadn't the man ever heard of table manners? Cause he lacked some, quite tremendously.