Chapter Text
The morning filtered slowly through the shutters of Villa Torrisi. The Sicilian sun, already hot in the early hours, lit up Don Bernardo's bedroom. The man woke up with a broad smile, unusual on his often stern face. At his side, Antonia, still wrapped in the sheets, stirred slightly, but did not have time to pretend to be asleep: the Don's large, heavy hand caressed her flat stomach, almost reverently.
"My love..." he murmured, leaning in to kiss her belly. "This boy or girl will be my greatest joy. I will love him or her unconditionally, as I love you."
Antonia stroked his head, running her fingers through his graying hair, and smiled at him.
"I know, Bernardo..." she said softly.
She wanted to believe it, she wanted to be happy, but a shadow of melancholy crossed her gaze. What if it wasn't his? That doubt gnawed at her from within, but she buried it forcefully, as she had done with everything else. No one was to know.
⸻
Breakfast was prepared on the veranda, where the morning light fell golden between the stone columns and climbing vines. The smell of warm bread, fresh milk, and scrambled eggs mingled with the distant crowing of roosters.
Bernardo was in a great mood, laughing and talking with his men as he sat at the head of the table. Next to him, Antonia offered weak, tired smiles, but no one seemed to notice: the Don had everyone's attention.
Cesare arrived first, as always with a quick and confident stride. He bent down to kiss his uncle's cheek, then greeted Antonia with a respectful nod. Shortly after, Enzo also arrived. He was dressed simply, in a white shirt open at the chest with rolled-up sleeves. He sat down next to his nephew, meeting Antonia's gaze for a moment. She immediately lowered her eyes to her plate.
The conversation flowed easily, between anecdotes and plans for the day, when Cesare, with his usual gift of the gab, turned to Enzo:
"So, buddy, are you happy too? Your uncle will finally have an heir!"
The words fell heavily on the table. All eyes turned to Enzo. The young man forced a smile, raised his glass as if to toast, and replied in a tone that oscillated between irony and nervousness:
"Eh... of course. Very happy. That there will be even more life within these walls... I can only be pleased.
As he said this, he stared at Antonia. A long, burning gaze that almost took her breath away. She simply bit her lip and lowered her gaze back to the bread, her hands trembling.
Bernardo, unaware of the invisible tension, stood up, already dressed in a dark jacket and elegant hat.
"Cesare, Enzo," he ordered in his booming voice. "We're leaving for the errand. I want it done cleanly, without mistakes."
The two nodded, ready to follow him, but Bernardo turned to Antonia first. He took her face in his hands, then kissed her in front of everyone, hard, on the lips.
"You... stay calm. Don't exert yourself, rest. I want you to take care of yourself and our son."
"I will, Bernardo," she smiled, but her heart was pounding.
Enzo looked away suddenly, clenching his fist under the table.
Later, Antonia found herself in the kitchen, bringing dirty dishes to the farm workers who were already busy with pots and pans. She placed the basket on the table, tired, and sighed.
A noise behind her made her jump. She turned around suddenly: it was Enzo.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, putting her hand to her chest in fright. "Shouldn't you be with Bernardo and Cesare?"
Enzo approached slowly, his gaze determined.
"They still have to choose the carriage and horses. I said I was going to the bathroom... but instead I came to see you."
Antonia stiffened, clutching the edges of her apron between her fingers.
"You shouldn't have, Enzo. You shouldn't have come... I told you I don't want to see or hear from you. You don't know how hard it is for me to see you here every day, while I'm trying to forget."
"But you can't," he replied, moving closer. "You can't forget me."
She clenched her jaw, torn. Then Enzo lowered his voice, almost to a whisper.
"That child... is it yours?"
Antonia stared at him, her eyes wide.
"Of course it is," she said sharply, determinedly. "It's Bernardo's. I want it to be Bernardo's. Don't you dare ask me that again."
Enzo moved even closer, placing his hands on hers, which were clinging to the table.
"Antonia... look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Is it his... or is it ours?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I... I can't. You can't ask me this, Enzo. Please..." She burst into tears and turned away.
He took her hands more firmly, but gently, bringing them to his chest.
"I don't want to lose you. Tell me the truth. Tell me that this child is also part of me."
Antonia shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
"Enough, enough, Enzo. Let me go... please."
⸻
The kitchen door, half open, creaked slightly.
A figure leaned slightly into the hallway. Cesare.
The Don's nephew had stopped there, attracted by the voices, and now listened with growing interest, his eyes shining with suspicion and malice.
Cesare stood motionless behind the kitchen door, breathless. Those words had pierced him like blades: a child of unknown parentage, his uncle's wife in Enzo's arms, the most trusted servant who had sworn allegiance with blood.
His head was spinning. Betrayal. Shame. A danger to the whole family.
He bit the inside of his cheek, clenching his fists. It would have been enough to go in and expose them immediately, to spit in Enzo's face what he had heard... but it wasn't the right moment. Instead, he decided to take it in, to accumulate every fragment of that poisonous truth. Uncle Bernardo must know, but not now. First I have to look Enzo in the eye. I have to test him.
Without being discovered, he slipped away into the corridor, his footsteps soft, heading for the courtyard where his uncle was waiting for him.
⸻
In the kitchen, Antonia managed to free herself from Enzo's grip, her hands still trembling.
"Go away... please, go away," she whispered, her eyes red.
Enzo looked at her for a long moment, torn, breathing heavily. Then he simply bowed his head.
"This isn't over, Antonia. Remember that."
And he left, leaving her slumped against the table, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
⸻
Outside, Enzo joined Cesare and Bernardo, who were already ready with the horses. Cesare stared at him sideways, his gaze grim, but said nothing.
They got into the carriage and set off for the countryside, where a delicate task awaited them: to collect an unpaid debt from a small landowner.
The journey was heavy. Bernardo kept everyone entertained with talk about the organization, but Cesare remained silent, sitting opposite Enzo. Every now and then he made subtle, acidic jokes.
"You know, my friend... sometimes you think you know a man... and then you discover that his loyalty is not so strong after all."
Enzo stared at him with furrowed brows.
"What do you mean, Cesare?"
His nephew smiled slightly and shrugged.
"Nothing. Just chit-chat. Observations about life."
The air grew heavy. Enzo clenched his jaw, his eyes trying to penetrate those of the young man.
"Tell me if you have something against me, don't beat around the bush."
Cesare stared him straight in the eyes, then looked down with a half-smile, shaking his head.
"Maybe one day. Maybe never."
Bernardo didn't notice the tension, absorbed in his calculations and orders.
The mission ended without difficulty: the owner was put under pressure, and threats were enough to make him hand over a bag of coins. Enzo carried out everything coldly, but he felt Cesare's gaze burning him like a knife pointed at his back.
The return to the villa was silent. Cesare had withdrawn into himself, lost in thought, yet every now and then his eyes fell on Enzo, with an expression that spoke volumes: I know more than you think.
Enzo, for his part, felt as if a knot were tightening in his chest. Something was changing. Someone was watching him too closely.
And when the carriage passed through the gates of the Torrisi villa, the heavy atmosphere between them had become a silence laden with invisible threats.