Antonio ( Underworld Mafia Romance 3)

But the lunch crowd comes and goes. The lunch hour disappears, too. I sit in my chair with shoulders slumped. I’m hungry now and I’m starting to think I should give up.

Then I see a man with short, brown hair like Antonio’s. Same length. Same color. He has about the same height and build, too. He even has the same thin beard. As he fixes his collar, I catch a glimpse of the leather strap of a necklace.

I get off my feet.

“Antonio!” I shout before I can think.

The man stops. He turns and I see the surprise on his face, then the confusion. Annoyance, too. I swallow as he marches towards me. I realize I might be wrong about him being Antonio, and once he’s standing in front of me, I know it for sure.

Is this man Leonardo Ursini?

His blue eyes, slightly darker than Antonio’s, narrow at me. “Why do you know my brother’s name?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Antonio

I place the flowers on top of my mother’s grave. Daffodils, her favorite.

As I researched what my family’s been doing for the past thirteen years, I came across a number of things – Vito officially taking over the family company, Leo working under him and seemingly doing well in the business world. Actually, most of the things I uncovered were about the company.

No surprise there. The mafia doesn’t exactly advertise its activities. Then again, I’m not interested in those. I just want to know two things: one, if my father is still alive and well – and two, what happened the night I got caught in that explosion. I guess I’ll have to go to the mansion and find out myself.

I’m going to do that, but I’ve decided to pay my respects to my mother first.

Marilyn Swinton.

That’s what the name on her grave says. But her real name was Monica. Monica Ursini. The wife of a mafia boss.

I remember her clearly now. I remember the kindness in her eyes and how prayerful she was. I remember how she was into knitting but wasn’t very good at it. I remember her clapping for me at my piano recital. I remember her scolding Leo after he fell from a tree.

I run my fingers over the cold tombstone.

She died just a few years after I ended up in Summerset. I wonder how. Something tells me it was tragic.

Did she die of a broken heart because she couldn’t find me? Because she thought I was dead?

I guess I’ll ask my father about it, although it doesn’t really matter. My mother’s gone. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

I do that now. I plant a kiss on my fingers and then press them on the stone.

“Goodbye, Mamma.”

After that, I get up and walk away with shoulders straight.

Enough dwelling in the past. It’s time for me to face the present, for the clock to start moving again.

It’s time for me to go home.

~

The mansion looks the same as in my memories. Maybe there’s a thicker coat of moss on its walls and a few more vines crawling up to the second floor, but it’s the same massive, slightly forbidding place I grew up in.

It’s home.

I consider just walking up to the front gate. I’m sure they’ll let me in once I tell them who I am. They’ll believe me because I look just like Leo.

But I don’t. There’s no fun in that. Besides, I’ve never been a fan of grand entrances. I decide I’ll sneak in through my old spot if it’s still there. It’s risky, I know. There may be more cameras now. Someone might shoot me by accident. I’ll just have to be careful.

I find the spot and still manage to fit. I notice that there are no new cameras nearby, just the one that was always there, and there are no guards in sight. Luck is on my side. Let’s see how long it will hold.

I start to make my way through the garden towards the house. I stop behind a bush when I hear footsteps. Just one pair. Good. If it’s just one guard, I should be able to escape his attention easily.

I look over my shoulder and peek through the leaves. I see a woman with dark hair sitting on a bench. Her head is bowed down so I don’t see her face at once. When she lifts it, my eyes grow wide.

Jodie? What is Jodie doing here at the mansion?

She’s not a little girl anymore, or a teenager. She’s a woman now and even more beautiful. But why does she look so sad?

Indeed, there’s a weight that makes her shoulders slump in defeat. There’s a longing in her brown eyes. I notice, too, that she seems thin.

What happened to her?

I’m tempted to go to her to ask and to comfort her with a hug, but I hear another set of footsteps. I see a man walking towards Jodie. I recognize him as well.