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Dad pulls back, keeping me at arm’s length so he can beam at me with unbridled pride shining in his warm hazel eyes so like my own.
"I'm so proud of you, Clara-bean," he says gruffly, blinking hard. I pretend not to notice the sheen of tears he quickly blinks away. "Your mother would have been so proud too...of the intelligent, compassionate, strong woman you've become despite everything. You did this." He sweeps a hand to encompass the bustling scene around us.
I squeeze his hands, emotion clogging my throat for a moment. "I couldn't have done it without you, Dad. You gave me my love of art, of beauty." I trail off, thinking of those painful weeks when I nearly lost him. But Dad is getting the help he needs, thanks to Antonio's discreet interventions.
Dad clears his throat, regaining his composure. But his eyes radiate warmth and gratitude. Linking my arm through his, I let him guide me through the energetic crowd towards the familiar faces waiting for us just at the edge of the grassy field. My pulse quickens, as it always does, when I spot Antonio's imposing figure dominating the space despite the crowds. He stands tall and proud beside his brothers, posture relaxed yet innately commanding. His dark eyes find mine instantly across the bustling lobby, making warmth bloom in my chest. No matter our surroundings, it feels like we're the only two people in the universe when our gazes lock.
Antonio excuses himself from his brothers and strides towards us, appreciative glances from other women follow in his wake. I can't blame them; Antonio's rugged good looks and predatory grace are magnetic. Seeing him looking so devastatingly handsome fills me with pride to have this man waiting for me.
As he nears, Antonio's stoic features soften into a smile that seems reserved just for me.
"Don't you look a little too scholarly for my taste today?" Antonio teases as he reaches me, his voice an intimate caress. He offers me a bouquet of crimson roses, their velvety petals releasing a heady perfume.
"Are you saying I don't look hot in this cap and gown?" I retorted in faux indignation.
Antonio's eyes smoldered as they raked over me. "I'm saying I'll enjoy taking them off of you later."
Without a word, he pulls me into his arms. I burrow against the solid warmth of his chest with a contented sigh, nerves settling now that I'm back in his comforting embrace. I can almost imagine his steady heartbeat and sandalwood scent chasing away the lingering stress of exams and looming transition into real adulthood. Here with him, the future doesn't feel so overwhelming.
"I'm so proud of you, tesoro," Antonio murmurs against my hair. I press even closer, reassured by his words and the endearment he only uses in private moments like this.
An amused voice interrupts our reunion. "Easy Antonio, you're in public." Lorenzo smirks knowingly as he approaches with Pietro, Rafael, and Giovanni. But there's no malice in their gentle teasing, only lighthearted joy at celebrating my achievement with us. I've become like a little sister to them over these past months.
Antonio releases me reluctantly, with a subtle brush of his thumb over my cheek.
"Congratulations, Clara." Lorenzo pulls me into an affectionate one-armed hug. "Not that we ever doubted you'd crush it."
The others echo his warm sentiments, clasping my hand or embracing me briefly but sincerely. I thank each of them in turn, truly touched that they've come to share this milestone when not long ago I was a virtual stranger viewed with suspicion. But the bonds of loyalty and trust run deep in this family; now that I've proven myself, they embrace me as one of their own. Their stalwart support means the world.
Pietro checks his watch, ever pragmatic. "We should start heading to the mansion. Wouldn't want to be late for your own celebration dinner, Clara." The others nod in agreement, gathering up bags and jackets in preparation to depart.
Antonio steps close again, head inclined towards mine. "Come celebrate properly with our family," he entreats, eyes smoldering. The promise in his gaze makes my cheeks flush. I give a subtle nod of acquiescence that has his lips curving in a satisfied smile.
As the others move off, Dad turns to me once more, gratitude shining in his eyes. "You've made me prouder than you'll ever know, Clara. Now go, have fun." He squeezes my hands, blinking hard. "I'll see you tomorrow for our museum visit, okay?"
I embrace him fiercely one more time, overwhelmingly grateful to still have this. "It's a date. Love you, Dad."
He pats my back gently. "Love you too, baby girl." With a parting smile, he releases me and disappears into the crowd. I watch his retreating figure fondly, remembering a time not long ago when I feared I'd lost him for good. Now the future seems filled with hope.
"Shall we?" Antonio's rich voice at my shoulder pulls me from bittersweet thoughts. He holds out an arm for me to take, eyes bright with promise. I lace my fingers through his without hesitation. Together we make our way out into the luminous spring afternoon, the rest of the boisterous crowd fading away until it's just us. My pulse quickens in anticipation of what comes next.
Sunlight washes over the manicured lawns dotted with blooming ornamental trees. Graduates and their families spill across the green spaces, laughing and chattering excitedly. Antonio expertly navigates us through the chaos towards the sleek town car idling by the curb, Lorenzo already holding the door open beside it.
Antonio ushers me inside the plush, climate controlled interior. The noise and crowds are instantly muffled as soon as Antonio pulls smoothly away from the curb, the imposing edifices of campus growing smaller in the tinted windows.
I let out a long breath, the day's adrenaline gradually seeping from my veins now that we've escaped the chaos of graduation. Beside me, Antonio drives casually, yet his keen gaze misses nothing. I recognize the hypervigilance lingering just below the surface despite the celebratory day. A lifetime existing amongst threats, real and perceived, has honed his instincts to a razor's edge. But I know with me, he can lower his guard and just be Antonio.
Reassured by this relative privacy, I cuddle closer against Antonio's side, laying my head on his shoulder. His arm comes around me instinctively, thumb stroking soothing circles at my hip through the silk fabric of my dress. I let my eyes drift closed, perfectly content to ride in silence as he navigates us through the city towards the rest of our family.
The late afternoon sunshine filtering through the windows casts everything in a warm, buttery glow. Graduation almost feels like a surreal dream now that it's passed. But Antonio's solid strength beside me grounds me in the present. Soon we'll be celebrating this accomplishment surrounded by the people we hold most dear. The thought sends a swell of gratitude through me.
My thoughts drift to the mysterious job offer I received earlier this week. An elite art gallery wanted to interview me for a coveted assistant curator position handling acquisitions and authentication. The salary and prestige far exceed what someone straight out of undergrad could typically command. When I inquired discreetly, they remained vague about where my resume had come from. But intuition tells me Antonio's hand is behind this incredible opportunity. Though he's avoided admitting involvement outright, the subtle smile playing about his lips whenever it's mentioned is telling. I lean into him now, lips grazing his jawline in a featherlight caress.
"Thank you for always taking care of me," I whisper against his skin. "Even if you refuse to take credit."
Antonio turns his head, expression softening as I knew it would. His fingers brush my chin, tilting my face up towards his. "You deserve the world, Clara. I intend to give it to you."
The car winds its way smoothly out of the bustling heart of campus and into a more affluent residential area on the outskirts of the city. Trees bloom like pale pink clouds along the wide boulevards we cruise down. I glance uncertainly between the passing scenery outside and Antonio's cryptic expression.
