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GOLD



KIIARA

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"MASTER ANTONIO?"

I grunted in response, burying my face deeper into the pillow.

"Master Antonio," Albert repeated, his tone gaining urgency.

"You're going to wake her up," I mumbled, my voice muffled by the fabric. "Celine doesn't enjoy being woken up."

"Master Antonio-"

"Antonio!" My mother's voice pierced through the room as she burst through the door like a storm.

I heard the familiar click of Celine's reflexes kicking into place, followed half a second later by the unmistakable sound of a gun's safety being disengaged.

"You woke her up," I said flatly, still refusing to lift my head.

"What the hell is going on?" Celine's voice was groggy but sharp, and I could feel the heat of her glare even with my eyes closed.

"Antonio, there's a situation!" my mother shrieked, her voice climbing higher.

I sighed, finally turning my head to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, flustered and wild-eyed, her designer blouse slightly wrinkled-an indicator that whatever the issue was, it had her genuinely rattled.

"Couldn't this have waited?" I muttered.

"Your cousin Aurora has started a fire!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up for dramatic effect.

Celine groaned, lowering her gun but keeping it in her lap. "Why am I not surprised?"

"What kind of fire?" I asked, still half-asleep.

"The kind that happens when she steals gasoline from the neighbors for the barbecue and spills half of it across the lawn!" my mother snapped.

I sighed again, finally sitting up. "How bad is it?"

Albert stepped in, his face as calm as ever despite the chaos. "Contained, but smoky. The fire department has already been alerted. However, your family insists on staying here while the situation is sorted."

Celine let out a low chuckle, rubbing her temples. "Great. A full house of Genoveses and a fire starter. What's next? A meteor shower?"

"I wouldn't joke about that," I said dryly, standing and grabbing a T-shirt.

"Master Antonio, shall I inform the kitchen staff to prepare for additional guests?" Albert asked.

"Yes, Albert," I replied, already dreading the day ahead.

As I pulled the shirt over my head, Celine swung her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes narrowed. "If anyone steps into my garden or touches my scorpion, I'm shooting them."

I smirked. "Noted."

"And Aurora," she added, standing up and stretching, "is not allowed within a five-foot radius of anything flammable."

"That might include half the house," I muttered, following her toward the door.

My mother was still hovering, wringing her hands. "Antonio, do something about this girl. She's a menace."

"I'm starting to see why Celine keeps her gun so close," I said under my breath.

"Don't tempt me," Celine added, brushing past my mother and heading for the chaos downstairs.

I sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

"Why do you and Celine sleep so far from each other? You do understand we need an heir before you turn 40, Antonio," my mother nagged, her voice shrill with disapproval.

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "Mother, it is 9 in the morning. I haven't even gotten out of bed yet. Could we hold off on the life lectures until I've had coffee?"

She ignored my protest, as usual, straightening her blouse like she was preparing for a battle. "I'm assuming you've prepared the Belize for us? The De Lucas always complimented how spacious it is. You know, if Celine and you would just-"

"Of course," I interrupted before she could finish that sentence. "The Belize is yours. Enjoy the balcony, the private pool, the isolation-please, revel in it."

She gave me a pointed look. "You're avoiding the point."

"No, Mother," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and grabbing a shirt. "I'm redirecting the conversation to avoid strangling myself before breakfast."

"Antonio," she said, her tone low and warning.

"Fine," I sighed, standing and rubbing the back of my neck. "I'll have an heir when I'm good and ready. Until then, kindly focus on keeping Rory away from gasoline and fire."

"You are just like your father. Impossible," she muttered, turning on her heel.

"And yet here I am, your pride and joy," I called after her, earning a scowl before she exited the room.

I glanced at Celine, who was now standing by the window, her arms crossed as she stared out at the garden below. "Did you hear that?" I asked, pulling on a pair of sweatpants

"I heard all of it," she replied without turning around. "Your family is like a soap opera."

I smirked, walking over to her. "And you're the reluctant leading lady."

She shot me a glare over her shoulder. "I'm the one who shoots the leading man when he gets too cocky."

I chuckled, leaning against the wall. "Noted. Let's get this day over with before someone else sets something on fire."

"Too late for that," she muttered, heading for the door. "Your family's chaos is its own kind of blaze."

"Welcome to the Genovese dynasty," I said, following her out of the room.

We walked down to the kitchen, the noise hitting us like a wave. It seemed like nearly everyone was either crammed inside or scattered around the pool outside. My house, large as it was, felt smaller when it was packed with nearly thirty people. This wasn't just my immediate family-oh no, this was the Gia Genovese clan. My mother's siblings and their offspring, all of whom had to evacuate their homes next to hers after Tabby's little fire mishap with the neighbor's gasoline.

The "Belize Wing" was housing my mother, her three sisters, and their husbands. The rest were spread out across the guest rooms, my office, and even the damn game room. It was chaos, pure and simple, but apparently, I was expected to host it with a smile.

Summer and Lottie, our two live-in maids, were bustling about the kitchen. Summer was stacking clean plates while Lottie wiped down the counters with quick, efficient movements. Both of them looked far too cheerful for this early in the morning.

Celine's eyes lit up the moment she spotted Venom's enclosure sitting safely on the counter. "Where's my girl?"

Summer turned, smiling as she gestured toward it. "Right here, Mrs. Genovese. We kept her away from all the little ones. Didn't want any accidents."

"There's my pretty girl," Celine cooed, completely ignoring the bustling family around her.

"She's talking to a scorpion again," Alessandro muttered, leaning against the island with a mug of coffee.

"Better than talking to you," Emiliano quipped, snatching a piece of toast off his plate.

Alessandro glared. "Touch my food again, and I swear I'll-"

"You'll what? Cry?" Emiliano interrupted, smirking.

I set my coffee mug down with a thud, cutting them off. "Enough. You're both over thirty. Act like it."

Matteo, my cousin who fancied himself the family chef, flipped a pancake at the stove. "Antonio, you look miserable. Rough night?"

"Let's see," I said, leaning against the counter. "My mother barged into my room at nine in the morning. Celine woke up armed. And now I have half of the family using my house as a hotel. So, yeah, I'm living the dream, Matteo."

Maria, another cousin, rolled her eyes as she assembled a fruit platter. "Be grateful, Antonio. It's not like this happens every day."

"Feels like it," I muttered, taking another sip of coffee.

Outside, kids were splashing in the pool while their parents lounged in the sun. Rafael-scratch that-Luca, one of my more annoying cousins, strolled in shirtless and dripping wet. He grabbed a pancake off a stack with his bare hands.

"Morning, Antonio. You look like hell," he said with a grin.

"Good morning to you too, Luca," I replied, my tone flat.

Celine turned to me, her voice carrying just enough bite to be dangerous. "Maybe if someone didn't host an entire circus every other week, he'd get more rest."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Careful, cara. That almost sounded like a complaint."

She gave me a syrupy sweet smile. "Just making an observation, amore."

Emiliano snickered behind his coffee mug, and I shot him a look that could have frozen a lesser man.

This was shaping up to be a very long day.

The day was far too long already. By mid-afternoon, my house was full of shouting, laughing, and the occasional shriek of someone getting pushed into the pool. Nearly every corner of the property was occupied-my mother's siblings, their spouses, their children, and even some of their household staff had invaded, turning what was supposed to be a day of family "bonding" into pure chaos.

I walked into the kitchen to find Summer and Lottie working at lightning speed, putting together platters of antipasti and bruschetta while my cousins picked at the trays like vultures.

"Hands off, Nico," Summer snapped, slapping his wrist with a spoon as he reached for a piece of mozzarella.

"Relax, I'm starving," Nico grumbled, popping the cheese into his mouth anyway.

I turned to the backyard, where Alessandro and Emiliano were yelling over the grill, smoke billowing around them as they fought over steaks.

"You're burning it!" Emiliano shouted, flipping a steak over.

"It's called a sear, you idiot," Alessandro shot back.

I didn't even bother intervening. They'd been like this since we were kids, and I didn't have the energy to referee. Instead, I scanned the yard for Celine.

She was sitting by the pool, a glass of limoncello in her hand as she listened to Luca and Giovanni try to one-up each other with stories. Luca, of course, was leaning far too close, his charm turned up to eleven.

"I'm telling you, Celine, if you'd been there, you'd have been impressed," Luca said, flashing her a grin.

Celine sipped her drink, unimpressed. "I doubt it."

Giovanni laughed. "She's got you pegged, Luca."

I resisted the urge to intervene-barely. Luca was harmless, but watching him hover around my wife was grating. I grabbed a glass of scotch from a passing tray and made my way to the balcony instead.

From there, I had a perfect view of the madness: Alessandro and Emiliano were still arguing, Maria was holding court by the pool like some mafia queen, and the kids-too many to count-were chasing each other with water guns.

I didn't realize Celine had joined me until she leaned against the railing, her glass of limoncello in hand.

"Your family is... a lot," she said, her voice dry.

"That's an understatement," I muttered, taking a sip of my scotch.

"How do you deal with this every holiday?"

"I drink," I replied, holding up my glass.

She smirked, her eyes scanning the crowd below. "Luca's a flirt."

"Annoyingly so."

"You're not jealous, are you?"

I glanced at her, my expression flat. "No. I just don't like my cousins thinking they can overstep."

"Overstep?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

I didn't answer, instead letting the tension simmer between us as the noise from below filled the silence.

A sudden crash came from inside, followed by Emiliano's voice shouting, "Who the hell broke the espresso machine?!"

Celine sighed, pushing off the railing. "And here I thought the day was winding down."

I grabbed her empty glass before she could leave. "With this family? Not a chance."

She hesitated, then smiled slightly before disappearing inside, leaving me alone to face the madness once again.

"Antonio!"

I cursed silently.

My Tía Andrea. My mother's younger sister. She had an uncanny ability to strike at the perfect time, especially when I was least in the mood for her dramatics.

"Oh, look at you!" Andrea exclaimed, her voice rising as if I were some malnourished child. "Antonio, you're so skinny! What are you doing to yourself? Working too much?"

"I'm not skinny, Tía," I replied, trying not to roll my eyes. "I'm in perfect shape."

Andrea turned to Celine as if I hadn't spoken. "Celine, you need to take better care of him! Look at his face, so sharp! His poor cheekbones."

Celine, who had just entered with a tray of pastries, paused mid-step. She glanced at me, her brow quirking in amusement.

"I'll handle it," she said smoothly, her voice laced with charm as she placed the tray on the counter.

Andrea's hands went to her hips. "Handle it? My nephew looks like he hasn't had a proper meal in months! You need to feed him more, mi amor."

Celine walked over to me and looped her arm through mine, resting her other hand on my chest in a move so uncharacteristically affectionate it threw me off balance.

"Antonio eats plenty," she said, smiling sweetly up at me. "I make sure of it. He just has a high metabolism."

Andrea blinked at the display, momentarily stunned.

"See?" I added, slipping an arm around Celine's waist and pulling her closer. "I'm fine. My wife takes excellent care of me. Don't worry so much, Tía."

"You're lucky she's putting up with you," Andrea muttered, though her tone had softened.

"Oh, I know," I said, my voice dripping with mock sincerity as I kissed the top of Celine's head. "I remind her every day how lucky I am."

Celine leaned into me, resting her hand on my chest again. "And I remind him every day how much work it is to keep him alive," she quipped, her smile razor-sharp.

Andrea finally relented with a laugh. "Fine, fine. You're both impossible. Just don't let him waste away, Celine."

"Never," Celine promised, her tone sweet enough to rot teeth.

As Andrea wandered off to meddle elsewhere, I turned to Celine, my arm still around her waist. "What the hell was that?" I whispered.

"Survival," she said simply, stepping away from me. "You're welcome."

"You didn't have to touch me that much."

"Would you rather she kept nagging?"

I grunted, conceding her point, and we headed toward the patio where more relatives were gathered. Celine slipped her hand into mine, her fingers lacing with mine in another move so natural it was unnerving.

"Now what?" I muttered.

"Now," she said, smirking, "we keep playing along. Unless you want someone else to tell me I'm not feeding you enough."

I sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple for show. "You're lucky I hate arguing with them more than I hate being touchy."

"Trust me, Antonio," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "this is just as painful for me."

The moment we stepped out onto the patio, a wave of chatter and loud laughter hit us. Half the family was gathered here, the other half spread between the pool and the dining area. It was like hosting a small country, all of them somehow managing to talk over each other and still hear everything.

Celine, still holding my hand-an act she was playing up far too convincingly-leaned into me again. "How many people are here exactly?" she whispered.

"Too many," I muttered, scanning the crowd for potential nuisances.

We hadn't made it two steps when Tío Lorenzo, my mother's brother, waved us over. He was sitting at a table with a cigar in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. Beside him were my cousins, Matteo and Nico, both of whom loved to stir trouble just as much as they loved to gamble.

"Antonio! Celine!" Lorenzo boomed, his voice carrying across the patio. "Finally! We thought you were hiding from us."

Celine plastered on a sweet smile. "Never, Tío. Antonio would never let me hide from family."

Matteo smirked. "Is that so, Antonio? Because last I checked, you were terrible at keeping up with family events."

I shot him a look. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Barely," Nico added with a grin. "We were just taking bets on when you'd show your face. Matteo owes me twenty bucks."

"Speaking of bets," Celine said, squeezing my hand. "Antonio, what do you think? Should I take over the family card game tonight and show these boys how it's done?"

The table burst into laughter, Lorenzo slapping his knee. "You've got a bold one here, Antonio! I like her."

I leaned down, whispering against her ear. "You're getting too comfortable, cara mia."

She tilted her head up, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm just getting started."

As the conversation continued, more family members joined in. Tía Gabriella reappeared, this time flanked by her husband, Victor, who immediately began lecturing me on the importance of teaching Celine to appreciate fine wine. Tía Andrea wasn't far behind, dragging one of her daughters with her to comment on how Celine's dress was "a little too modern" for family traditions.

Celine, ever the actress, played it all up. She laughed, leaned into me as though I was the center of her universe, and somehow managed to navigate the minefield of opinions without a single misstep.

"Antonio," Tía Andrea finally said, narrowing her eyes at me, "when are we going to hear the real good news? You've been married for a while now. Where are the babies?"

Celine tensed beside me, her hand tightening on my arm. Before I could respond, she stepped in with a grin.

"Oh, we've got plenty of time for that, don't we, amore mio?" she said, her voice dripping with honey. She reached up to adjust my collar, her fingers lingering just a second too long. "We're just enjoying being newlyweds."

Andrea huffed. "You're practically wasting time. Antonio's not getting any younger."

"That's why he married me," Celine replied smoothly. "To keep him young."

I could feel my jaw clench, but I stayed quiet, watching as she navigated the conversation with ease.

Later, when we finally managed to slip away under the guise of needing a "private moment," I cornered her in the hallway.

"Twenty bucks says we don't make it ten minutes before someone finds us," I muttered.

She smirked. "Make it thirty, and I'll get us twenty minutes."

"Deal."

To my surprise, she won. Celine found a way to distract Gabriella with a debate over wine pairings, sent Andrea off to inspect some nonexistent issue in the kitchen, and convinced Lorenzo and his crew to move their scotch session poolside.

When we finally made it back to the sitting room, we had an actual moment of peace. She sat back on the couch, looking entirely too smug.

"Hand it over," she said, holding out her hand.

I pulled a twenty from my wallet and slapped it into her palm. "You're impossible."

"No," she said, pocketing the bill. "I'm just better at this than you."

For a moment, I couldn't help but laugh. God help me, this woman was going to drive me insane.

As soon as our peaceful silence was interrupted by someone yelling down the hallway, I knew the serenity was short-lived.

"Antonio! Celine! Get out here!"

The unmistakable voice of Tío Lorenzo carried through the mansion. "We've got something to teach you two-the quickest way to get sperm to the egg!"

Celine froze mid-sip of her drink, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and horror. I, on the other hand, pinched the bridge of my nose, already feeling the headache creeping in.

"Absolutely not," Celine whispered, shaking her head. "Nope. Not happening."

"Stay calm," I said, standing up and smoothing my shirt. "We'll handle it."

"No way!" she hissed, grabbing my arm. "We're not walking out there to get a fertility lesson from that man."

"Then we make them think we're already doing just fine."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

I gestured to the couch. "Play along."

Celine looked skeptical for half a second before realization dawned. "You want them to think-oh my God."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Before she could argue, the door swung open.

"Antonio!-"

"Mio Dio!" Lorenzo's voice cut off, replaced by a choking sound.

Celine, fully committed to the bit, was now straddling me, her hands in my hair as she leaned down like she was about to kiss me. I had my hands planted on her waist, gripping her like we were in the middle of something decidedly private.

"Oh!" Celine gasped, turning to Lorenzo with feigned embarrassment. "Tío! We didn't hear you knocking."

Lorenzo turned beet red, holding up both hands. "I-uh-sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt!"

Behind him, a few cousins peeked into the room. Matteo snorted and whispered something to Nico, who was clearly trying not to laugh.

"We're just... practicing," Celine said with a sweet, saccharine smile, still not moving from my lap.

"Practicing?" Lorenzo echoed, his face scrunched in confusion.

"For the egg thing you mentioned earlier," I said dryly, smirking at his discomfort.

Lorenzo practically tripped over his own feet backing out of the room. "Right, right! Carry on! No need to stop!"

The door slammed shut, and silence followed.

Celine burst out laughing, collapsing onto my chest. "Oh my God. Did you see his face?"

"You're insane," I muttered, shaking my head as I leaned back against the couch. "I can't believe that worked."

"I told you I'm good at this," she said, brushing her hair back with a smug grin.

I sighed, letting her bask in her victory. "If they don't leave us alone after this, I'm moving out."

"Relax, amore mio." She patted my chest mockingly. "I've got this under control."

God help me.

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this was lowkey a filler chapter but yall got a bit more of the tension yall needed and deserved I also wanted to give you like a funny cutesy chapter just full of vibes and Italian drama lol

Keep drinking water

- zio 🍸