Chapter Eleven: Too Close to Home

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A/N: Before you guys read, I needed to make a quick announcement. I adjusted the time frame of the story just a little bit because initially, it was going too fast. So pretend, Armani's crush was for a couple of months before she saw him again. And they dated and went on a couple of dates before he "ghosted." I'll rewrite these details later in the other chapters, so just a heads up. Thanks and enjoy this chapter!

 Thanks and enjoy this chapter!

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Antonio's POV

She left.

I knew it was bound to happen, which is why I never attempted to settle for a serious relationship for fear of having to tell them this truth about me. I feared what actions I had to take next now that she knew.

She was walking around with top secret information after all. I didn't need the one good FBI agent or police officer showing up at my house late at night. I mean that didn't even matter because my family paid off the cops and FBI here.

That's how deep and evil my family was.

I never wanted to be part of this life. However my family was already a part of it, I had no other choice but to concede. I had a duty as the don of the mafia and I always kept my word. This life sucked you in and consumed you whole--it was like a leech sucking out all your blood till your skin paled and your lips turned blue.

Maybe, it's a good thing she looked at me differently. A monster like me never deserves love. I should've learned that the first time with my first love. My Tesoro deserves a world of bliss and happiness with beautiful crimson roses at each step she takes and not one with daggers at every angle you turn and blood steeping under doorways.

I sighed, leaning my elbows onto my knees at the edge of the bed, and tucking my head down. My heart hurt. I had just met that girl and she already consumed me a whole. She was turning out to be a fatal attraction.

I was beyond stupid. Why did I let my fleeting feelings and emotions control me enough to tell her the truth? It was the look in her eye as if she had been betrayed before with ugly lies, which pushed me to. Or, maybe it was the softness of her hand as she clutched tightly onto my hand reassuringly.

The events from before panned like a broken record in my mind. The disgusted, contorted look on her once softened face and the snatch of the warmth of her hand from my rough now cold one.

Before she left, she looked at me with a mixed, guilty look seeing the distraught, knowing state she left me in.

"Give me time," is all she said, before she rushed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

I shook my head in an attempt to stop replaying the same scene in my brain.

If my father found out about this, he would be so beyond disappointed with me and order me to kill the girl. I couldn't let that happen. I didn't want an innocent life lost because of my slip-ups, which could spoil my family's reputation.

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