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Maybe I’m the unwell one here, because instead of doing the sensible thing and protecting myself and whatever fragile pieces of my heart are still intact, I’m offering the whole pathetic thing to a mafia heir who has very little respect for rules, boundaries, and several sections of the criminal code.

I want to ask him if he feels the same.

The question sits right there on my tongue, so close I can almost hear myself saying it, but if he loves me, wouldn’t he say it? Wouldn’t those words have come naturally instead of leaving me standing here with my heart practically outside my body while he stares at me?

And if I ask him outright and the answer is no, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. I’m not sure I could survive hearing him tell me he doesn’t love me. “Never mind,” I say, forcing the words out. “Forget I said anything.”

Something flashes across his eyes, gone so quickly that I can’t tell what it is. Antonio says nothing and lets his hand fall away from my chin. I turn and walk to the closet, snatching my pajamas before heading for the bathroom. The shower helps calm me down, but emotionally, I remain a disaster.

When I return to the bedroom, dressed in my pajamas with my hair still slightly damp, Antonio is already in bed beneath the sheets. I walk to the bed, lift the sheets and slide underneath, only to be met with Antonio’s naked body. I lie on my side and let my eyes drift over him.

“Do you sleep with the light on?” he asks me.

I blink and drag my attention back to his face. “No, but you can leave it on if you do.”

He reaches toward the wall and switches it off, but just before the room falls into darkness, my eyes catch a glimpse of the foxglove tattoo on his arm. I’ve seen it plenty of times, but I’ve never asked him about it.

“Is foxglove your favorite flower?”

There’s a brief pause beside me. “My mom’s,” he says.

“Mine are roses,” I say, and then regret it the moment it leaves my mouth.

“Sleep, Alexander.”

Chapter

Twenty-Six

ALEX

I sigh and roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling while the silence between Antonio and me stretches through the room until sleep finally pulls me under.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when someone shakes me awake. I jolt upright so fast that the room swims around me, and for a few confused seconds I don’t know where I am, why the bed feels unfamiliar, or why my heart is already racing before Antonio’s voice cuts through the fog.

“It’s your mom,” I hear him say. “She’s been calling you.”

Sleep clears from my head instantly, and I reach for my phone with clumsy fingers, nearly dropping it when I see the missed calls lighting the screen. Mom never calls me over and over like this, especially not in the middle of the night, and unease begins to form in my stomach as I call her back.

She picks up on the first ring, but it isn’t her who speaks. “Come home,” my father’s voice says.

My blood freezes so quickly that for a second I can’t move, then I’m throwing the sheets off and flying out of bed. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s here, but that might change if you don’t come here right now.”

I rush toward the bedroom door, nearly losing my footing in my hurry, but I keep moving. “Put her on the phone.”

There’s a rustle on the other end, followed by muffled movement, and then I hear Mom’s voice.

“Alex, don’t come here,” she says, sniffling.

“Give that to me,” Dad says, and there’s another brief scuffle before his voice comes through clearly again. “If you are not here soon, you’ll regret it.”

The call ends before I can say anything else, and by then I’m already standing in front of the elevator, staring at the doors while my hands shake so badly that I have to press the button twice. Antonio appears behind me carrying a shirt and jeans, and it takes me a second to realize I’m still wearing my pajamas.

I take the clothes from him and start changing the moment the elevator doors close, dragging the shirt over my head and struggling into the jeans as the elevator carries us down. Antonio reaches for my hand once I’m dressed, and I grab onto him hard, my whole body is shaking now and I can’t seem to make it stop. He doesn’t say anything, which I’m grateful for because there is nothing he could say that would calm me. He keeps hold of my hand as the elevator opens and we hurry to the SUV where Davide is already waiting.

The ride to Trenton feels endless, and I keep hoping my piece-of-shit father hasn’t done anything to Mom. I Antonio gave him money and told him to get lost the last time he approached me at school, and after that I didn’t hear from him again. I had started to believe maybe that was enough, that he had taken the money and disappeared.