Chapter 32 Antonio's visit
AMELIA
Jeremy had been gone for five days, and I was starting to understand what it meant to wait for someone.
Not just wait, but worry.
Every morning, I woke up expecting news. Every evening, I lay awake wondering if he was safe. If Chicago had been "dangerous" in the same way that everything else in his world was dangerous, I would have felt more concerned.
If he was even still alive.
"You're doing it again," Nina said, setting down my breakfast tray. "That worried face."
"I'm not worried."
"You're a terrible liar." She sat on the edge of my bed. "He's fine. If something had happened to Santoro, we'd know. The whole city would know."
"How can you be sure?" I asked, not trying to pretend anymore.
"Because when a Santoro heir dies, it starts wars. And right now, everything's quiet." She squeezed my hand. "He's probably just busy. The Family business in Chicago is complicated."
I wanted to believe her.
But Jeremy had mentioned that it would take a few days. If things didn't work out, it could take up to a week.
It had been five days with no word. No calls. Marco had not received any messages.
Nothing.
"Eat your breakfast," Nina said, standing. "And stop worrying. It doesn't help."
She left, and I picked at the eggs without appetite.
The past five days had been strange. Quiet. Almost peaceful.
I'd established a routine. Wake up. Eat. Spend time in my room reading—Nina had found me some audiobooks. Lunch. More reading. Dinner. Sleep.
The other girls left me alone. I heard them sometimes in the hallway, whispering. But they never approached. Never knocked on my door.
Jade had tried once on the second day. I'd heard her voice outside my room, talking to someone.
"I just want to apologise. For what happened before."
Nina had been there. "Save it, Jade. She doesn't want to hear it."
"I'm trying to make amends—"
"You threw her out onto the street and beat her. There's no amends with that. Move away."
Jade had left. She hadn't attempted to return.
I should have felt safe. Protected.
Instead, I felt suspended. Waiting. Like my whole life was on pause until Jeremy came back.
If he came back.
Around noon, the atmosphere in Crimson changed.
I was in my room, listening to an audiobook, when I heard it. A shift in the energy downstairs. Voices becoming quieter. More respectful. Almost fearful.
Someone important had arrived.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. Multiple sets. Then Marco's voice in the hallway, careful and deferential in a way I'd never heard before.
"Mr Santoro, I wasn't expecting you today. If you'd called ahead—"
"I don't need to call ahead, Marco."
My stomach tightened. Santoro. However, it wasn't Jeremy's voice I heard.
This voice was older. Harder and colder.
"Of course, sir. How can I help you?"
"I came to see the girl."
There was silence. Then Marco, very carefully: "Which girl, sir?"
"Don't play stupid. The blind one. The one my nephew has been obsessing over." A pause. "I hear she's been staying here under Jeremy's protection. I want to see what all the fuss is about."
"Mr Santoro—Antonio—with respect, Jeremy gave specific instructions—"
"Jeremy's in Chicago. I'm here. And I'm family. Are you saying that you will refuse Santoro access to his own nephew's pet or charity case? Pet? Charity case?" The voice turned sharp. "Show me to her room. Now."
More footsteps. The footsteps continue to approach my door.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
"Sir, Jeremy was very clear that she's not to be disturbed—"
"Then I'll be gentle. Open the door, Marco."
Marco's voice, resigned: "Yes, sir."
A key turned in my lock.
I stood up quickly, gripping my cane, backing toward the far wall.
The door opened.
"Leave us," the cold voice commanded.
"Sir—"
"That wasn't a request."
Footsteps retreated. The door closed.
I was alone with a stranger. A dangerous stranger who made even Marco nervous.
"So you're the one," the man said. I could hear him moving into my room, slow and measured. "You are the blind girl who has been causing my nephew to run in circles."
I didn't answer. Just stood there, cane held defensively in front of me.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Amelia."
"Amelia." He repeated it like he was tasting it. "I'm Antonio Santoro. Jeremy's uncle." He moved closer. I could smell expensive cologne and cigar smoke. "Do you know who I am, Amelia?"
"Jeremy's uncle."
"I'm more than that. I'm the underboss of the Santoro family. Second in command. I am the one who handles things when my brother and nephew are too soft to take necessary action. Another step closer. "Do you understand what that means?"
"It means you're dangerous."
He laughed—a short, sharp sound. "Smart girl. Yes. I'm dangerous. Much more dangerous than Jeremy, though he'd hate to hear me say that."
I heard him walk around me, circling and assessing me.
"Turn around," he commanded. "Let me look at you."
"No."
"No?" There was a hint of surprise in his voice. "You're refusing me?"
"I don't take orders from you."
He laughed again, longer this time. "Cazzo. You've got spine. I like that." He stopped moving. "Most girls would be trembling by now, begging, crying. But you? You stand there with your little white cane like a weapon and tell me no."
"Should I be scared?" I asked.
"Probably. But I don't think fear works on you the way it works on most people, does it?" He was now standing in front of me. Close. "Jeremy said you were special. I thought he was being sentimental. Weak. But I see it now."
"See what?"
"Why he can't let you go." His hand touched my face—not rough, but possessive. Tilting my chin up. "You're not just pretty. You're strong. Defiant. The kind of woman who makes a man want to conquer her. Own her."
I jerked my face away from his touch. "Don't touch me."
Antonio moved away, toward my dresser. I heard drawers opening. "Tell me, Amelia. Are you happy here? In this gilded cage?"
"I'm safe."
"Safe. But not happy." Drawers closing. "You're trapped here. Dependent on Jeremy's protection. Waiting for him to come back from Chicago and tell you what to do next." A pause. "What if he doesn't come back?"
Ice flooded my veins. "What do you mean?"
"Chicago is dangerous. Jeremy's business in Chicago is particularly risky. Things can go wrong. People can die." His voice was casual. Too casual. "Have you heard from him?"
"No."
"Five days and not a word. Doesn't that concern you?"
It did. God, it did.
"He's fine," I said, trying to sound certain.
"Is he? Or are you just hoping he is?" Antonio sat down on my bed—I could hear the mattress creak. "Let me tell you something about my nephew, Amelia. Jeremy has a weakness. He cares too much. Gets attached to things—people—he shouldn't. His mother was the same way. Got herself killed because she cared about someone who wasn't worth it."
"Jeremy's not weak."
"Isn't he? He's in Chicago right now, distracted, thinking about you when he should be focused on business. That kind of distraction gets people killed in our world.". "Gets everyone around them killed too."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I'm offering you a choice." He stood. "I can take you out of here. Give you a real life. Protection that doesn't depend on Jeremy's whims or his survival."
"In exchange for what?"
"Smart girl. Always looking for the catch." He moved closer again. "I want you to come to the Santoro mansion. Stay there. Under my protection instead of Jeremy's."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because you're clearly valuable. Jeremy wouldn't waste this much time and resources on someone ordinary. Which means you're either very important to him personally—" His hand touched my shoulder. " —or you have information that makes you valuable professionally. Either way, you're an asset worth controlling."
"I'm not an asset. I'm a person."