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The ref raises my arm up as the winner, and the crowd cheers, but I pull out of his grip and stumble off the stage, my hands bloodied and sore.
“Tony,” Johnny says, approaching me warily, concern in his eyes. “Tony?”
I brush past him into the locker room and slump onto one of the benches. Before I know it, the tears come.
* * *
I was seventeen,and Franco had worked me hard during a training session. It would only be later after he tried to kill me that I wondered why he kept up my training sessions after my dad died. Why did he make me stronger only to try and break me?
I came home, covered in sweat and bruises. Mom was busy with the twins, Lucia and Luca, but she still made time to rush over to me, making sure I was all right.
“He’s fine,” Franco said, coming in behind me. Mom glared at him over my shoulder but didn’t say a word.
“I’m tired, Ma,” I said to her. “But I’m getting better at hand-to-hand combat.” Thanks to Franco. Most of my siblings didn’t like Franco, me included, but I couldn’t deny he was a good fighter.
Mom tried to object to me going upstairs, but I brushed past her. Cecilia found me later, lying on the floor of my room, staring up at the ceiling. Without a word, she laid down beside me.
In my family, each of my siblings had a different relationship with each other. My two oldest sisters, Emilia and Gemma, were always close. Then it was Francesca, who most kept to herself. Then it was me and Cecilia. Thick as thieves. Mia was the baby of the family for so long, so she was doted on by pretty much everyone until the twins came. Lucia and Luca have each other and probably always will.
“Are you ok?” Cecilia asked, her hand going to the cross at her throat. She always wore it, no matter where she went. It was similar to Dad’s pendant around my neck.
“Why wouldn’t I be ok?”
“Because you’re lying on the floor, not looking ok. Is it Franco?”
I sighed deeply. “I miss our dad, you know. Franco just isn’t the same.”
“I know. I can’t believe it’s been six years since he died. I can still remember what he smelled like. Woodsy. It was nice.”
“Franco just smells like whiskey most of the time. I’m surprised he can even lead with how much he drinks. When I turn eighteen, I’ll show how much of a better leader than Franco I am. Dad’s men will flock to my side. I know it.”
“I believe in you. But … Antonio … they’ve been Franco’s men for years now. Are you ready to take on such a huge undertaking?”
I shrugged. “Someone has to rule. When I turn eighteen, Franco will step aside, and I’ll be the leader. He’ll help me, I’m sure.”
“How can you be sure?”
I turned to Cecilia. “Because I’m the rightful heir of the business. It was our dad who was the leader. Franco will respect that.”
“Ok.” She didn’t look convinced, but Cecilia knew better than to object. She always supported me, even when she didn’t agree with everything I did.
“Remember when we went on that camping trip and Gemma had found this huge cliff that led into the lake.”
“Of course, I do. You dared me jump in, and I didn’t want to. But then you took my hand, and we jumped in together.”
“I could tell you were scared.”
She nudged me. “I thought you were the scared one.”
“Ok … maybe I was. We were both scared, then. But we did together. After I take over, I’ll need the support of my family. I don’t think I can do it on my own.”
“You’ll always have us, Antonio.”
I squeezed her hand, taking comfort in it like I did when I was a kid. “So, tell me about your day. Still thirsting after Theo?” Theo was Cecilia’s bodyguard whom she had the biggest crush on, even though he was an adult and she was only sixteen.
“Antonio,” she warned, slapping my arm. “Drop it.”
“He doesn’t even like you, Cecilia. You’re his job. Your crush is completely impossible.”
