5. Family Matters

CHAPTER 5

FAMILY MATTERS

Antonio stood before the mirror in Damien's opulent bathroom, his reflection a stranger in tailored designer clothes. The suit fit him like a second skin, accentuating his lean physique in ways that made him uncomfortable. This wasn't him. This was some polished, pretty pet that Damien had created.

As he adjusted his tie for the hundredth time, a memory crashed over him like a wave...

***-

"Stand up straight, Antonio," Vivian Lombardi hissed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his shoulder. "This is an important night for the family. Don't embarrass me."

Fifteen-year-old Antonio squirmed in his ill-fitting suit, hating every second of this stuffy gathering. "Why do I have to be here?" he whined. "It's not like anyone cares what I think anyway."

Vivian's grip tightened painfully. "Because you're a Lombardi, and it's time you started acting like one. Your brothers never gave me this much trouble."

Antonio's cheeks burned with shame and resentment. Always the troublemaker, always the disappointment. Never measuring up to his perfect older siblings.

"Maybe I don't want to be a Lombardi," he muttered under his breath.

The slap came out of nowhere, leaving his cheek stinging and his eyes wide with shock. Vivian leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. "You don't have a choice, boy. This is who you are, who you'll always be. The sooner you accept that, the easier your life will be."

As she swept away to greet some important guest, Antonio blinked back tears. He'd never felt more alone in a room full of family.

***-

A sharp knock on the bathroom door jolted Antonio back to the present. "Hurry up in there, pet," Damien's deep voice called out. "We have a schedule to keep."

Antonio took a shaky breath, pushing the painful memory aside. "Coming," he called back, giving his reflection one last critical look.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Damien's eyes raked over him appreciatively. "Much better," he purred, reaching out to adjust Antonio's collar. "You clean up nicely when you're not being a brat."

Antonio bristled at the backhanded compliment. "Glad I meet your exacting standards," he snarked. "Should I roll over and beg now, or save that for later?"

Damien's hand shot out, gripping Antonio's chin firmly. "Careful, pet," he warned, voice low and dangerous. "You're already on thin ice after yesterday's little stunt at the boutique. Push me too far, and you might not like the consequences."

Heat pooled in Antonio's belly at the threat, his body's traitorous response to Damien's dominance. He swallowed hard, dropping his gaze. "Sorry... sir."

Damien's grip softened, his thumb brushing Antonio's lower lip in a gesture that was almost tender. "Good boy," he murmured. "Now, let's go. We have a charity gala to attend."

As they made their way to the waiting car, Antonio's mind raced. A public event, full of Chicago's elite. The chances of running into someone who knew him, who might report back to his family... it was a risk he wasn't sure he was ready to take.

But as Damien's hand came to rest possessively on the small of his back, guiding him into the limousine, Antonio realized he didn't have a choice. He was in too deep now, caught in Damien's web with no clear way out.

The drive to the gala was tense, Antonio's nerves stretched to the breaking point. Damien seemed to sense his unease, his large hand coming to rest on Antonio's thigh in a gesture that was equal parts comforting and possessive.

"Relax, pet," he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on the expensive fabric of Antonio's slacks. "You'll do fine. Just stay close to me and follow my lead."

Antonio nodded jerkily, trying to ignore the way Damien's touch sent sparks skittering across his skin. "And if someone recognizes me?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Damien's grip tightened, just shy of painful. "Then you'll introduce me as your mentor and benefactor. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Antonio replied, his throat suddenly dry.

As they pulled up to the glittering venue, another memory surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome...

***-

"I'm not going to college," eighteen-year-old Antonio declared, chin lifted in defiance. "I don't need some fancy degree to work for the family."

Vivian's eyes flashed dangerously. "This isn't up for discussion, Antonio. You will get an education, and you will learn to be a proper businessman. We can't have you running around like some common thug."

Antonio's temper flared. "Why not? Isn't that what we are? Thugs in expensive suits, pretending to be respectable?"

The sound of breaking glass shattered the tension as Vivian hurled her wine at the wall. "Enough!" she roared, all pretense of composure gone. "I will not have you throwing away your future because of some misguided rebellion. You are a Lombardi, and you will act like one!"

Antonio stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides. "Or what, Mom? You'll cut me off? Go ahead. I'd rather be poor and free than trapped in this gilded cage for the rest of my life."

Vivian's laugh was cold and brittle. "Oh, my foolish boy. You have no idea what the real world is like. You wouldn't last a week without the family's protection."

As Antonio stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, he vowed to prove her wrong. He'd show them all that he didn't need the Lombardi name to make something of himself.

***-

"Antonio." Damien's voice, low and concerned, pulled him back to the present. "Are you alright? You looked miles away for a moment."

Antonio blinked, realizing they were parked in front of the gala venue. He forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Fine. Just... nervous, I guess."

Damien's expression softened slightly, his hand coming up to cup Antonio's cheek. "You have nothing to be nervous about, pet. You look stunning, and you'll have me by your side all night. Just remember your place, and everything will be fine."

The reminder of his "place" should have angered Antonio, should have made him want to lash out and rebel. But instead, he found himself leaning into Damien's touch, craving the older man's approval in a way that both thrilled and terrified him.

"Okay," he whispered, meeting Damien's intense gaze. "I'm ready."

Damien's smile was predatory as he leaned in, his lips brushing Antonio's ear. "That's my good boy. And if you behave yourself tonight, I'll make sure you're properly rewarded when we get home."

A shiver ran down Antonio's spine at the promise in Damien's voice. As they stepped out of the car and into the flashbulb frenzy of waiting photographers, Antonio found himself pressed close to Damien's side, the older man's arm a solid weight around his waist.

For better or worse, he belonged to Damien Benedetti now. And as they swept into the glittering ballroom, all eyes on them, Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that he was crossing a point of no return.

***-

Across town, in the opulent Lombardi family compound, Vivian paced her study like a caged tigress. It had been over a week since she'd heard from Antonio, and her motherly instincts were screaming that something was terribly wrong.

"Any word?" she snapped at Lorenzo, who stood nervously by the door.

Lorenzo shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her piercing gaze. "Nothing concrete, Donna Vivian. But... there have been rumors."

Vivian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What kind of rumors?"

Lorenzo took a deep breath, steeling himself. "There's talk that Antonio was seen at Enzo's, that high-end boutique downtown. With... with Damien Benedetti."

The crystal tumbler in Vivian's hand shattered, shards embedding themselves in her palm. She barely noticed the pain, her mind racing with implications.

"Benedetti," she snarled, the name a curse on her lips. "That snake. He wouldn't dare..."

But even as she said it, Vivian knew it was a lie. Damien Benedetti was exactly the kind of man who would dare to snatch her son right out from under her nose.

Vivian's eyes blazed with a mixture of fury and fear. "Get the car," she barked at Lorenzo. "We're paying Marco Benedetti a visit. It's time to settle this, once and for all."

As Lorenzo hurried to comply, Vivian stared out the window, her reflection a mask of cold determination. "Hold on, Antonio," she whispered. "Mommy's coming."

Back at the gala, Antonio found himself swept up in a whirlwind of introductions and small talk. Damien kept him close, a possessive hand always on his lower back or arm. To the casual observer, they might have looked like any other power couple working the room.

But Antonio could feel the undercurrent of tension, the weight of unspoken threats in every squeeze of Damien's fingers. He was on display, a pretty bird in a gilded cage, and one wrong move could have dire consequences.

As they paused by the bar for a moment of respite, Damien leaned in close, his breath hot against Antonio's ear. "You're doing well, pet," he murmured. "Keep this up, and I might have to show you just how pleased I am when we get home."

Antonio shivered, heat pooling in his belly at the promise in Damien's voice. He was about to reply when a familiar face caught his eye across the room.

Lorenzo.

Their gazes locked, and Antonio's heart stuttered in his chest. His best friend looked haggard, dark circles under his eyes speaking of sleepless nights. And the expression on his face... a mixture of relief and horror that made Antonio's stomach churn.

"Ah, I see we have company," Damien drawled, following Antonio's line of sight. His grip tightened possessively. "Remember what we discussed, pet. Choose your next words very carefully."

Antonio swallowed hard as Lorenzo approached, plastering on a smile that felt brittle and false. "Lorenzo," he greeted, proud of how steady his voice sounded. "What a surprise to see you here."

Lorenzo's eyes darted between Antonio and Damien, confusion and suspicion evident in his gaze. "Antonio," he replied cautiously. "We've been worried sick about you. Your mother?—"

"Is undoubtedly fine," Damien cut in smoothly, his charm dialed up to eleven. "Antonio has been quite busy with his new... position in my organization. I'm Damien Benedetti, by the way. Antonio's mentor."

The lie rolled off Damien's tongue with practiced ease, but Lorenzo didn't look convinced. His eyes narrowed as he took in the possessive way Damien's arm snaked around Antonio's waist.

"Right," Lorenzo said slowly. "Well, I'm sure Donna Vivian will be relieved to hear you're safe, Antonio. Perhaps you should give her a call, let her know you're... okay."

The threat in Lorenzo's tone was clear. If Antonio didn't reach out soon, things would get ugly fast.

"Of course," Antonio replied, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to his own ears. "I've just been so caught up in work, you know how it is. I'll give her a ring tomorrow, promise."

Lorenzo opened his mouth to say more, but Damien smoothly interjected. "If you'll excuse us," he said, already steering Antonio away. "We have some other guests to greet. Lovely chatting with you, Lorenzo."

As they moved through the crowd, Antonio's heart raced. He knew Lorenzo wouldn't buy that flimsy excuse for a second. The clock was ticking now, and he was running out of time.

"Relax," Damien murmured in his ear, sensing his tension. "You handled that beautifully, pet. I think you've earned yourself a reward tonight."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Antonio couldn't help the thrill that ran through him at Damien's words. He was falling deeper under the older man's spell with every passing moment, and a part of him didn't want it to stop.

The sleek black car carrying Vivian Lombardi pulled up outside the Benedetti family's sprawling estate. She didn't wait for Lorenzo to open her door, striding purposefully towards the entrance with fire in her eyes.

The guards at the gate barely had time to react before she was pushing past them, her reputation enough to make them hesitate to stop her.

Marco Benedetti was waiting for her in his study, a glass of scotch in hand and a sardonic smile on his face. "Vivian," he greeted, as if her sudden appearance was no surprise at all. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Vivian's eyes blazed as she stalked towards him. "Where is he, Marco?" she snarled. "Where's my son?"

Marco's eyebrows rose in mock innocence. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, my dear. Perhaps if you calmed down and explained?—"

The crack of Vivian's palm against Marco's cheek echoed through the room. "Don't play games with me, you bastard," she hissed. "I know Damien has Antonio. What I want to know is why."

Marco's facade of civility dropped, his eyes hardening. "Careful, Vivian," he warned, voice low and dangerous. "You're on dangerous ground here. My son's... proclivities are his own business. If Antonio has chosen to align himself with Damien, well... perhaps you should be asking yourself why he'd rather be with us than his own family."

Vivian's fists clenched at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms. "If you've hurt him," she growled, "if you've corrupted my boy in any way... I swear to God, Marco, I will burn your entire empire to the ground."

Marco's laugh was cold and humorless. "Oh, Vivian. Always so dramatic. But let me make one thing perfectly clear." He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "If you push this, if you try to interfere... it won't be my empire that burns. It'll be yours."

As Vivian reeled back, shock and fury warring on her face, Marco turned away dismissively. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to. Do see yourself out, won't you?"

Vivian stood there for a long moment, trembling with rage and fear. This was far from over. Whatever game the Benedettis were playing, she would not let them win.

Not when her son's life hung in the balance.

As she stormed out of the estate, already barking orders at Lorenzo to gather the family's top lieutenants, Vivian made a silent vow. She would get Antonio back, no matter the cost.

And heaven help anyone who stood in her way.