Taking The Mantle

Chapter 19

I can't stop messing with the velvet box; open and close, open and close. I'm going to propose to Rosa tonight. Take her up to the place where we had our first date in America. There's a cliff I found when I first moved here. It's surrounded by tall grass and green trees that look over the city. The sparkling lights of the city compliment the serene area. It's being set up as we speak, flowers and candles and all of that.

I enlisted Victoria for tonight. She is going to help Rosa get ready and hopefully not spill anything. Patrice came by today for the gown fittings so I took the opportunity to do this. I didn't get the chance to propose properly but I'm going to do my best tonight.

"Sir-" Rocco exclaims from the hallway.

The door to the office swings open, slamming against the wall. Antonio stalks inside and tosses a large wooden box onto the desk. His face is hardened, jaw clenched, as he turns to leave. The carved wood features the DiSilva family crest and I unlatch the box to reveal La Regina jewels. Antonio silently starts for the door and I furrow my brow.

"Antonio!" I exclaim.

"What?" he asks harshly. He stops in the doorway but doesn't turn to face me.

"What's the matter with you?" I ask.

He's been acting weird for a few weeks now and I have no idea what's wrong. I've asked him before but this is different. Glossing over the fact that the contents of this box are worth more than countries, they belonged to his mother.

"I'm unearthing the jewelry of my dead mother," he scoffs, his back still to me, "It brings shit up, just drop it."

"I'm sorry, fratello," I reply quickly.

"It's been a long time since I opened the family vault," he continues and I nod.

"I know, it's rough losing your family," I tell him, adding, "I miss her too."

"No Gio," he spits back, finally turning to look at me, "you have no fucking idea what it feels like."

"Like hell I don't," I scoff. Antonio's hands ball into fists and he takes a step closer.

"Yeah?" he questions, tilting his head, "How did it feel to kill your own father?"

"Don't you dare bring that up," I exclaim, standing from my chair.

"Why not, huh?" he questions. His eyes narrow on me and my jaw ticks. My blood is beginning to run hot and my hands are shaking.

"You know what happened that night," I say sternly.

"Yeah, I do," he continues, a dry chuckle escaping him as he stalks closer, "a dieci anni you killed your dad with your bare fucking hands. Don't talk to me about losing family. You didn't lose yours, you got rid of them yourself."
(At ten years old)

My body moves of its own accord. I cross the room and wrap my hand around his throat. His eyes widen and I pin him against the wall. He hits at my chest and I merely tighten my grip.

Every muscle in my body is trembling as I try to control myself.

"Don't you ever bring that shit up again," I seethe, "I understand that you're upset right now but that is no excuse. You're on thin ice as it is fratello, I doubt anyone would blink if I killed you right now."

I release him and he drops to the ground in a heap. My breathing is heavy as I stare down at him.

"Once a killer always a killer, huh?" he scoffs, "just moved from one family to the next. Does Luca come after me? Or is it one of the kiddos?"

I shake my head at his words. Where the hell did all of this come from? Is this how he's always seen me? He should know more than anyone how much I love the DiSilva family and how I ended up with them in the first place.