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Filthy Marcellos: Antony

Page 4

by Bethany-Kris


  “Cecelia,” Vinnie said, a warning coloring his tone. “Now, Kate told me what happened.”

  “Kate lied like she always does. I was right there, Daddy. And I followed him back downstairs after he used the bathroom to make sure he didn’t get lost again. Kate was with me in my bedroom for most of the night before she went down to join the party so he couldn’t have run into her before that, either.”

  Vinnie didn’t look away from Cecelia as he said, “My apologies, Marcello.”

  “No need, Boss. I get it.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  Cecelia glanced over Vinnie’s shoulder at Antony. “I’d like for Antony to take me out on a date.”

  Vinnie’s head cocked to the side. “I beg your pardon, principessa?”

  “Antony, I want to go on a date with him. He meets every single one of your standards for someone I’m allowed to see, doesn’t he, Papà?”

  Standards?

  “He does,” Vinnie confirmed gruffly. “If you’re going to insist on it, you’ll have an enforcer with you as a chaperone.”

  “I’m twenty-one-years-old.”

  “And you still live under my roof, Cecelia. Follow my rules or don’t. We both know what will happen if you don’t.”

  “Fine, whatever. Tuesday for dinner, then?” Cecelia asked Antony like her father wasn’t even in the kitchen.

  Antony was stunned. He felt as if someone had just picked him up and dropped him into the Twilight Zone. How could one of Vinnie’s daughters be like she was while the other was the complete opposite? Besides that, how did Cecelia manage to say a few short sentences to her father and not only get Antony off the hook for Kate’s lies, plus got her father to agree to a date?

  No, Antony didn’t know what the fuck to do. His mouth worked, though.

  “Tuesday for dinner, bella.”

  Antony’s boss glanced over his shoulder.

  Yeah … calling her beautiful in front of her father probably wasn’t the best idea if the expression on Vinnie’s face was any indication.

  • • •

  Antony had quickly learned in a short couple of hours that Cecelia Catrolli was a ballbreaker with a sinful smile, a ruthless attitude when she wanted something, and an angel’s face any other time.

  He’d picked her up around four for dinner, received a very terse hello from his boss in the process, although Cecelia acted like Vinnie didn’t say a thing, and then proceeded to take her out.

  “I like this restaurant,” Cecelia said, glancing around. “It’s quiet and cozy.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cecelia winked. “Well, you did pick it, I suppose.”

  “That, and I own it.”

  “Own it?”

  “Not all my business is the bad kind, Cecelia.”

  She regarded him for a moment like she was taking his words in. “What else do you do?”

  “I have a hand in some businesses, I own a couple of other restaurants besides this one, and I never sleep in-between. I didn’t waste my family’s money as far as that goes. My great-grandfather didn’t work his ass off for nothing.”

  “You’re only twenty-five, Antony.”

  He shrugged. “It’s good to have goals, Cecelia.”

  “It is.”

  Someday, Antony wanted to own half of New York in one way or another. He didn’t bother to tell Cecelia of that particular aspiration.

  “You shouldn’t have lied to your father for me,” Antony said.

  Cecelia flicked off all the little cherries from the top of his cheesecake. “I didn’t lie. I might not have witnessed you two in the hall, but I would have heard something. I know what could have happened if my father believed Kate.”

  Antony frowned. “She’s … something else.”

  “A spoiled mafia princess with a daddy complex and too many other issues to name, you mean.”

  “You said it, Tesoro, not me.”

  Cecelia’s gaze flicked up to meet his, stunning him in one simple action. Her eyes always seemed to look straight into him, like she could see right through his quietness and aloof attitude.

  “Treasure, huh?”

  Antony smirked. “Fits, I think. You’re something precious, Cecelia.”

  “Even after I threatened to shoot you?” she asked coyly.

  “Especially because you threatened to shoot me.”

  “You’re so strange.”

  “No, I just like my women …” Antony trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

  “How do you like your women, Antony?”

  “Everybody calls me Tony, you know.”

  “I like Antony.”

  Well, he liked the way it sounded in her mouth.

  Antony supposed she didn’t really know Tony, anyway. Not like everybody else did. He was the volatile one—a Capo with a take-no-bullshit prerogative and violence as his middle name. Cecelia didn’t need to see or know Tony at all.

  “How do you like your women?” Cecelia asked again, softer the second time.

  “You. I like them to be like you.” Cecelia’s mouth opened, but Antony beat her to the punch, adding, “And I don’t think I’ve ever met somebody like you, Tesoro.”

  “Smooth talker.”

  “I try,” Antony murmured. “And I don’t have a lot of women, Cecelia.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask.”

  “You wanted to.”

  He could see it written all over her face.

  Cecelia shifted in the booth, watching him under thick lashes. “None at all?”

  “Currently, no.”

  “Never?” Cecelia pressed.

  “I’m not a saint, if that’s what you’re asking, but I am a one-woman man.”

  “Just one woman?”

  “Just the one sitting beside me and you’re not really mine, Tesoro.”

  Not yet, anyway.

  He was working on that, though.

  Cecelia’s hand found his thigh under the table, making Antony stiffen all over. “What if I wanted to be?”

  “Be careful, Cecelia. Your guard is listening. And you don’t really get to make that choice.”

  She seemed to pick up on his unspoken question.

  “My father has rules,” Cecelia said.

  “Standards was the word you used, actually.”

  Cecelia snorted an indelicate sound before poking him in the chest. “And you meet all of them.”

  “Should I even ask?”

  “Italian, connected, a good family, status within the family, and he should come from old money. The man should have a solid reputation and be in good standing with la famiglia. Would you like me to continue?”

  Anton laughed under his breath, sickened already. “There’s more?”

  “There’s more,” Cecelia confirmed like they were talking about the weather. “As long as I follow the rules and pick someone he deems appropriate, I can date who I want.”

  “And Kate?”

  “What do you think?”

  “She didn’t follow the rules,” Antony murmured.

  “Something like that.” Cecelia leaned over close enough to Antony that he could smell the sweetness of her perfume and feel the heat of her body. “My nephew would be three, now.”

  Antony froze. “What?”

  Cecelia nodded. “Three, do the math.”

  Antony did, quickly. That put the time right back to about the period when the arrangement between Vinnie’s family and John’s was made. “Would be?”

  “She lost the baby at six months,” Cecelia said too low for the guard down the way to hear. “Before she got too big and before anyone could really start gossiping. Convenient, don’t you think?”

  “The father?” Antony dared to ask.

  Cecelia refused to look up from her plate. “She wouldn’t say. And that time gap before she gets married? Yeah, that’s not so Kate can finish school. It’s so she’ll keep her mouth shut about why he’s marrying her off in the first damn place.”

&n
bsp; Antony didn’t know what to say, but something awful welled in his gut. “Cecelia—”

  “So, I follow his rules, Antony. Because I don’t feel like being sold off to the highest bidding family with the most to gain. But I get to choose, okay. And right now, I’m choosing you.”

  “You didn’t seem all too pleased with me the other night when I was in your bedroom,” Antony noted.

  “I was embarrassed.”

  “Dio, why?”

  “I’m guessing you heard the conversation between Kate and I. That’s not embarrassing enough for you?”

  No.

  Antony shrugged. “She’s a bit vile, that’s all. You handled her well.”

  Cecelia passed him a look he couldn’t decipher. All over again, his heart kick-started hard. “I meant the topic, Antony.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. It’s embarrassing.”

  Antony chuckled. “Maybe from your point of view. For me, no, I appreciate that, actually. You have values and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Cecelia glanced away again. “I’m not frigid.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  “I like you a little bit,” Cecelia said.

  “I’m good with that.”

  Cecelia simpered him with a smile. “Yeah, I am, too.”

  Antony soaked in the sight of her joy, pleased that he’d been the cause of it. While he’d messed around with girls on and off, he’d never been serious with someone and he never really wanted to be, either.

  Something about Cecelia drew him in like a moth to the fucking flame.

  “What did they do, forget the ‘H’ when they spelled your name on the birth certificate?” Cecelia asked, a teasing smile lighting up her pretty features.

  Antony chuckled, holding out his fork full off cheesecake for her to take. He waited while she drew the sweet bite from the utensil, her lips wrapping around the fork in a way that had his darker urges rising. He quickly reminded himself of the enforcer two booths away, readjusted his position in the seat, and cleared his throat. Yeah, he needed to get as far away from those fucking thoughts as he possibly could.

  And fast.

  Cecelia was innocent. Antony needed to keep that forefront and center. He sure as hell wasn’t, but she was. Why she wanted anything to do with him, he wasn’t sure.

  “No, they didn’t forget to add it in,” Antony finally replied.

  Cecelia used the tip of her thumb to wipe away a bit of cream at the corner of her mouth. Antony’s gaze instantly zoned in on that innocent gesture and she didn’t miss it. Cecelia’s smile turned into a knowing grin.

  Something inside of him said she wasn’t totally innocent.

  “Like Cleopatra,” Antony explained.

  “Hmm?”

  “Cleopatra and Antony. My mother was a romantic. I was lucky I didn’t end up with Romeo for a name. She had a thing for couples who gave everything up for love.”

  “Including their lives,” Cecelia mused.

  “Exactly. What’s love without a little tragedy, as the saying goes. My brother got the namesake and I ended up with Antony.”

  Cecelia chewed on her inner cheek, smiling in that sensual way of hers all over again. “I think I like Antony more, anyway.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her hand found his thigh again. “Take me dancing this weekend, hmm? Somewhere fun. I never get to do fun things, anymore.”

  “I can do that, Tesoro.”

  Whatever she wanted, he’d give.

  “And maybe …” Cecelia trailed off with a sly hum.

  “Maybe what, Cecelia?”

  “This.”

  She leaned up and kissed him before he’d blinked. Soft, warm lips pressed to his and that was it for him. Antony was gone. She tasted like sugar and innocence. Pureness right down to her blood and bones. His cock jerked to life under his slacks the higher her hand rose on his thigh and the harder she kissed him. Quickly, her lips parted and he took the chance to deepen the kiss for the brief moment he could.

  She didn’t pull away.

  Yeah, innocent.

  He was going to dirty this girl up so bad.

  Antony bet she’d like it.

  Chapter Six

  June, 1984

  Cecelia stretched over Antony’s form like a little kitten waking up from a too-long nap. He ignored the way her body felt moving on top of his, refusing to acknowledge the hard-on trying to make itself known.

  “I love it out here,” Cecelia said more to herself than him.

  Antony agreed. Despite hating how they were always under a microscope whenever he visited her at her parents’ home, the Catrolli family had a beautiful backyard property that stretched on for what seemed like forever.

  Using his arm as a pillow, Antony propped himself up higher to get a better look at Cecelia. She had her chin resting in her palm as she watched him under those thick lashes of hers. A light breeze blew her caramel colored curls, making her even more beautiful in the daylight.

  “I want a big house someday,” Cecelia told him.

  Antony cocked a brow. “How big, Tesoro?”

  “Not Catrolli big.”

  “Good, because your house is huge. I get lost every time I go inside.”

  “Three wings instead of four, then?” she asked sweetly.

  “Oh my God, that’s … Cecelia, come on. How’re you supposed to clean something that big?”

  She shrugged her dainty shoulders under her summer dress. “We can fill it, too, you know.”

  That caught Antony’s attention.

  “Fill it?”

  “Kids.”

  “Kids?”

  “Ours.”

  Antony grinned, thoroughly enjoying this conversation.

  They had only been dating two months, but he took her out every chance he got, and whenever she was allowed. Whatever Cecelia wanted, Antony gave. Her smile was like a drug to him and just being near her was enough to calm his heart and soul.

  Yeah, he knew.

  Cecelia was his one.

  That same kind of one his father said he’d find eventually.

  Antony hadn’t given marriage, kids, or any of that stuff much thought before he stumbled on an angry, pretty green-eyed, brown-haired girl in her bedroom.

  Now, it was all he seemed to think about.

  “You move fast, Cecelia Catrolli,” Antony whispered.

  “Fast enough for you, Antony?”

  “Perfect.”

  Cecelia smiled a blinding sight, moving up his body just enough to press her silken lips to his. Her tongue danced with his, the lingering taste of her strawberry daiquiri bursting along his taste buds. It didn’t take long at all for lust to flood his veins as his pants became uncomfortable.

  “You need to stop or someone’s going to be very pissed off at what I do next,” Antony warned against her mouth.

  Cecelia’s laugh was breathless. “Would you tell me what you’d do next?”

  Good God, she did not want to know.

  “Tell me,” Cecelia murmured, her gaze locking with his.

  “Cecelia …”

  “Tell me.”

  There were a dozen things he could have said. Things that would have made her shiver or words that might have given her a little insight to the craziness his mind and body experienced whenever she was near.

  Oh, he could have said a lot.

  Antony chose to tell her the truth. Because she should know. Cecelia was so beautiful—so, so wonderful to him—and the last thing he would ever do was hurt or use her. She deserved far more than that. Especially from him.

  “I would love you,” Antony said.

  Cecelia still shivered. She bit her bottom lip and shifted on him again.

  “Is that all?”

  “Trust me, bella, between us, it’d be more than enough.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mmhmm,” Antony hummed.

  She winked.

  “I thought you already loved me, Antony.”<
br />
  “I do, but then I could show you, too.”

  “You show me. I still want a big house,” Cecelia said. “Maybe a pool, too.”

  “Two wings,” Antony compromised.

  “Not Catrolli big?”

  “No, Marcello big.”

  • • •

  July, 1984

  “Come in and sit down, Tony,” Vinnie said, waving at the leather chair across from his desk.

  Antony did as his boss demanded. “Grazie for seeing me today, Boss.”

  Vinnie tended to take his Saturday’s to himself with little business and interaction with others. Antony understood the man’s reasons. Sometimes a person just had to be alone with no one else. Then, they could take off the boss hat, the father’s mask, and the Christian’s cloak to be just who they were for a short while.

  Like a fucking recharge on life, or something.

  “Sure, sure. What’d you need, anyway?” Vinnie asked.

  Antony fidgeted, his leg bouncing. Nervousness was not something he was accustomed to feeling at all.

  “You’re going to be at church tomorrow, right?” his boss asked.

  “Of course.”

  Cecelia asked him to go to her family’s church every Sunday, so Antony went. He preferred his family’s church, but he suspected going to hers benefitted her father’s view of Antony in some way.

  “Good. You’re looking like you’re going to puke over there, Tony.”

  He kind of felt like it, too.

  “I want to marry Cecelia,” Antony blurted out.

  Vinnie fell silent. Actually, the man might as well have turned to stone.

  “I know it’s soon.”

  “Soon?” Vinnie laughed, but it came out hollow. “God, boy, you two have only been dating for three months.”

  “I adore her. I love her. Another year or five isn’t going to change that. I know what I want and I’m pretty sure she wants the same thing, Boss.”

  Vinnie sighed heavily, rubbing circles into his temples. “Well, better to have one now then two close together, I suppose.”

  Antony’s head jerked up.

  Was it really going to be that easy?

  “Whatever, kid. Marry her.”

  “Really?” Antony asked, still unsure and unsettled.

  Vinnie shrugged. “Listen, Cecelia has never given me problems like her sister. She’s a good girl and while I still wonder about you sometimes, she could do worse. I might as well set her up with someone that knows he’s gotta keep his fucking nose clean, right? Besides, Cecelia knows her place.

 

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