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And I’ll be able to put down Franco for good.
I think back to the very first training session I had with Franco. It was just a week after my dad died, and Franco had moved into our house without anyone granting him permission to do so. I was only twelve.
Franco took me to his private gym, where he instructed me that he’d resume my fight training. “Pick up where you dad left off,” he said.
I didn’t have my issues with Franco at the time. He was still so unknown to me. I never saw him much when my dad was still alive.
I’d expected hand-to-hand combat lessons like my dad gave me. But when a group of men came out of the shadows, I realized this training session wouldn’t be what I was used to.
And it wasn’t.
Not when Franco instructed the men to start attacking me. I tried blocking and kicking and punching, but I was just a kid. I hadn’t even hit puberty yet. These were grown men. These were my dad’s men, who were now Franco’s men.
They took glee in watching me fumble and trip and sweat and pant. I was losing fast. They all kept coming after me, again and again and again. I was powerless to stop it.
And Franco just looked on, a smirk on his lips.
It was only when Franco walked forward and landed a square punch to my face that I knew things would never be the same.
I landed on my back with a grunt, and all the men laughed at me.
Franco kneeled beside me. “You need to toughen up, Antonio. Your father taught you to be weak. But I’ll make strong.” He patted my bruised cheek, making me wince.
When we arrived back home, my face was just starting to show the bruise. Mom saw and rushed over to my side. “Antonio?” She slicked back my hair and looked at my face. I wiggled out of her grip. “What happened?” She shot a look toward Franco. “What did you do to him?”
Franco shrugged. “I taught him to be a man.”
Cecilia ran into the foyer, carrying one of her many dolls. She was only ten at the time, and her little eyes widened when she saw my face. “Antonio?”
I brushed past her and headed upstairs. She followed. “Antonio?”
I tried shutting my bedroom door on her face, but she wouldn’t allow it. She barged into my room and demanded answers.
Instead of giving them to her, I just burst into tears. It was the first real time I’d cried since my dad died.
Cecilia’s eyes softened. “Oh, Antonio.” She set her doll down and threw her arms around me. “Why are you sad?”
“Dad,” I managed to say. But it wasn’t just that I missed him. It was that I had a new father figure in my life, and I wanted nothing to do with him. I began to realize just how much Franco was changing things.
“I’m sad, too,” she sniffled.
We clung to each other and cried, neither one of us letting go.
CHAPTER12
Antonio
“Nina?” I ask into the dark bedroom. My wife is lying in the bed, her back to me. She pulled away from me again after that night we had sex in the car. I know she’s struggling with her father, but I wish she’d just talk to me. “I’m heading out. Tonight’s the night I’m finally going to take down my uncle.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “I’m glad, Antonio. I really hope you do that.” There’s something ragged in her voice.
I want to go to her and make sure she’s all right, but I hold back. Petrov called me a few minutes ago, telling me he’s meeting up with Franco tonight. I need to be there on time so I can kill my uncle.
“I …” I what? I love you? Nina has stolen my heart in such a short amount of time. But now isn’t the right time to tell her. If there ever will be.
“Have a good night,” I tell her instead.
She sits up and gives me a look I can’t decipher. It’s one of pain and longing. “You, too, Antonio.”
