Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 75

Aria’s POV

I wasn't particularly moved by Damian's words. He simply enjoyed maintaining his dignity and defending the Cavalieri family honor—nothing more, nothing less.

After the formal dinner concluded and most guests had moved to the gardens for coffee and liqueurs, Antonio approached me with that familiar warmth in his deep blue eyes.

"Cara mia, would you walk with me? I'd like to speak privately."

I followed him to a quiet corner of the estate's library, where floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the moonlit gardens. The soft leather chairs and warm lamplight created an intimate atmosphere that felt almost fatherly.

Antonio settled into his chair. "I owe you an apology, my dear."

The words startled me. "I'm sorry?"

"About Adriana's behavior toward you. I know the whole story now—what she did, how she treated you." His voice carried genuine regret. "Such conduct is unacceptable, regardless of circumstances."

I stared at him in shock. A man of his power and status, apologizing to someone like me? "I... I've never received such treatment in my life, Mr. Montrosso. I hardly know how to respond."

"You shouldn't have to know how to respond. Respect should be given freely, not because someone demands it." He leaned forward slightly, his expression becoming more paternal. "Tell me about your childhood, Aria. I find myself curious about your background."

Why would he care about that? "There isn't much to tell, sir. I don't remember much from my very early years. The nuns at Sant'Anna Orphanage told me I was left at their door when I was five. They said a woman brought me there and... left."

Antonio's grip tightened almost imperceptibly on his walking stick. "A woman. Did they describe her at all?"

"No, sir. Sister Catherine said it happened at night, and the woman was gone before anyone could get a proper look." I studied his face, trying to understand his intense interest. "If I may ask... how did you know about what happened with Adriana? How did you learn the details?"

A slight smile played at his lips. "In our world, cara, there are no secrets that remain buried forever. Walls have ears, and people talk." His expression grew more serious. "What exactly is your relationship with Damian?"

Heat crept up my neck. "It's... an employment relationship, Mr. Montrosso. I work for him."

"I can see that things aren't quite that simple."

The observation made me shift uncomfortably in my chair. Antonio was far too perceptive for my peace of mind.

"Damian is a remarkable young man," he continued, "Intelligent, powerful, destined for great things. He reminds me very much of myself at that age."

Something in his voice suggested this conversation was heading in a direction I wouldn't like.

"Out of complete honesty—and perhaps some selfish motives—I do hope he and Adriana will find their way together. Such a union would benefit both our families tremendously."

The words hit me harder than they should have. Of course. This was always going to be about family alliances and bloodlines. What else had I expected?

"Damian cares deeply about Adriana," I said quietly, forcing the words past the unexpected tightness in my throat.

"That's wonderful to hear." Antonio's smile was genuinely pleased. "I'll have her come apologize to you properly. It's important that she understand her behavior was unacceptable."

He reached for a small bell on the side table, ringing it once. Within moments, a distinguished butler appeared in the doorway.

"Giuseppe, please ask Miss Adriana to join us in the library."

"At once, sir."

As we waited for Adriana to arrive, Antonio continued speaking about family traditions and the importance of proper alliances. I found myself only half-listening, my mind wandering to thoughts of what would happen when my contract with Damian ended. Where would I fit in this world of arranged marriages and calculated partnerships?

Crack.

The sound was sharp and immediate, like a branch snapping in the wind. But there were no trees close enough to the library windows.

Crack. Crack.

Those aren't branches.

Time seemed to slow as understanding crashed over me.

Bullets.

One whined past my ear so close I felt the displaced air against my skin. I saw the trajectory in that split second of crystal clarity—the bullet's path leading directly toward Antonio's chest.

Without thinking, without calculating, without any conscious decision at all, I threw myself sideways.

My shoulder connected with Antonio's torso just as the bullet struck. The impact sent fire through my entire arm, a burning, tearing sensation that stole my breath. We crashed to the floor together, his walking stick clattering away as we fell behind the heavy leather chairs.

"Merda!" Antonio's voice was sharp with pain and alarm. "Aria! Cara mia, are you—"

"Stay down," I gasped, pressing my hand to my shoulder. When I pulled it away, my palm was slick with blood. The bullet had torn through the silk of my dress and embedded itself in the muscle just below my collarbone.

More shots rang out, shattering the library windows in a cascade of glittering glass. Shouts erupted from other parts of the house as security teams mobilized. The peaceful evening had transformed into chaos in a matter of seconds.

"You're bleeding," Antonio said, his voice thick with shock and what might have been guilt. "You saved my life."

I tried to sit up, but the movement sent white-hot pain shooting down my arm. "Just... just stay low until security arrives."

Why would anyone try to kill Antonio Montrosso?

The questions would have to wait. Right now, my shoulder felt like it was on fire, and I could feel the warm spread of blood seeping through my dress. But Antonio was alive, and somehow, that felt more important than anything else.

"Help is coming," he said, his voice gentle despite the chaos around us. "You're going to be fine, little one. You're going to be just fine."