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MOTIVE

♧

ARIANA GRANDE , DOJA CAT

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I CHECKED my watch as I finally stepped into my office. It was 10:56, somehow, despite starting my day at 6.

Moving my workout schedule to 6 p.m. was supposed to help me avoid mornings like this—a reason to stay out of the house longer. But even the best plans couldn't prevent today's chaos. My car tires were mysteriously flat. Some incompetent trainee managed to spill a slushy all over me, forcing me to wait while Albert delivered a fresh shirt. Then, as if I didn't have better things to do, I had to oversee the trainees' breakfast and deliver announcements.

Now, finally, I was here. But of course, standing outside my office door like a sentry was one of my mother's assistants: Tabyana.

"Antonio," she greeted me, blocking the doorway before I could even step inside.

"Tabby." I raised an eyebrow, attempting to sidestep her, but she shifted in front of me.

"Your mother requests your presence this afternoon for brunch," she said with the faintest smirk, knowing full well how I'd feel about it.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Tabby. You were my mother's maid of honor. My brother's and my godmother. So, I say this with as much respect as possible—get the fuck away from the door."

"You have a car waiting for you, Antonio," she replied, ignoring my tone entirely.

"I'm not going," I said flatly, leaning against the doorframe.

"You don't have a choice."

"Yes, I do. I'm a decade away from my fifties, Tabby. You can't tell me what I can and can't do."

"Antonio, let's go," she said, her voice calm but firm.

"Tabby, no."

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You always were your father's son."

Her words sent a mix shot of pride and anguish through me. Before I could reply, her hand darted up, and I barely registered the movement before it all went black.

"Oh, look, he's waking up," a voice mumbled.

My eyes fluttered open, blurry at first, but the familiar outlines of my brothers and mother quickly came into focus. They were standing over me, looking annoyingly entertained.

"You had Tabby knock me out?" I groaned, trying to sit up but immediately regretting it as pain shot through my chest.

"Well, would you have come willingly?" my mother asked, arching a perfectly plucked brow.

I made a face, and she grinned like she'd won some invisible argument. "So, my question's been answered," she chirped.

My mother was a word beautiful was too small for. She had shoulder length honey blonde hair that none of my family members had inherited attributable to my father passing on his jet black-- hair that had gone white years ago--, large doey hazel green eyes Emilio possessed and a sparkling smile that had been responsible of many men who my father had tortured for falling for.

"Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath, slumping back onto the couch.

"Why don't you want to spend time with your mother?" she asked, pretending to pout. "I haven't had all three of my babies together in years. And now one of my babies is married! Your wife is going to take all your attention now."

"We are not married," I snapped.

"Yet," Emilio chimed in, smirking.

"Shut up," I growled.

The whole ordeal of Celine and I getting married made me want to vomit.

"You guys would have a decent baby," Alessandro added, ever the instigator. "Her genes would carry though."

I glared at him. "Do not talk to me about having kids with her. I'm trying to eat."

I tried to sit up again, wincing as the pain from the bullet wound in my chest flared up. I fucking hated her.

"Oh no, what happened to darling?" my mother gasped, rushing over. She yanked at the first few buttons of my shirt, exposing the bandaged wound.

"Celine shot him," Emilio said, leaning back with a lazy grin.

My mother froze. "What?"

Here we go.

"She shot him," Alessandro repeated, shrugging.

"She only shot me because I—"

"Because he tried to shoot her first," Emilio interrupted, thoroughly enjoying himself.

My mother's eyes went wide, and before I could react, her hand connected with my chest—not gently, either.

"You what?" she shrieked.

"Mom, stop—ow!" I hissed as she smacked me again.

"You tried to kill her?" she gasped, shaking her head like I was some feral animal. "What did she do to deserve that?"

"She flipped me off," I said flatly.

My mother's gasp was so dramatic, it belonged in a soap opera. Telling her that would definitely boost me back up into her good graces.

"I raised you better than this, Antonio! You cannot be a wife beater! I did not spend thirty years of my marriage scaring the shit out of your father just for you to turn into an abusive husband!" She clutched her chest as if she had the bullet wound.

"She's not my wife!" I snapped.

"Yet," Emilio said again, earning another glare.

"Why is no one on my side?" I groaned, throwing my head back against the cushion.

"I left the moment I heard you tried to kill your fiancée," my mother shot back. "Now I have to move the wedding to this weekend just to make sure you don't murder her before the deal is settled for your father!"

Her words hit me like a second bullet, and for a second, I could only stare at her.

"This weekend?" I repeated, my voice dangerously low.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," she said, waving me off as she grabbed a glass of wine from the side table. "You brought this on yourself, darling."

"Father brought this upon me! I never asked for this," I snapped, my frustration spilling over.

"Do not raise your voice with me, ragazzino. I am old!" my mother declared, her voice trembling just enough to make my brothers rush to her side.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Her fake tears vanished instantly, replaced by a dazzling grin. "Oh, wonderful! Now we can move forward. I'll have someone come by to take her measurements! Oh, how exciting—my baby is getting married!"

"I hate this family," I muttered under my breath.

"You love us," Emilio said, smirking as he shoved an entire croissant into his mouth like a starving caveman.

"You eat like an animal," I said, swatting the back of his head.

He swallowed dramatically, grinning. "Eat that pussy out like an animal—"

"Language," my mother cut in, her tone sharp enough to silence him instantly.

The room went quiet for a moment before Alessandro snorted into his coffee, breaking the tension.

"You all drive me insane," I said, throwing my head back in defeat.

"And yet you keep coming back, It's almost like you love us or something." my mother teased, sipping her wine with a satisfied air. "We'll make sure this wedding is perfect, Antonio. Don't you worry."

"I don't," I deadpanned.

"You do," Emilio chimed in, still chewing on another croissant like it was his last meal. "And you know what else? Celine loves us too. She just doesn't know it yet."

I gave him a look. "The only thing she loves is pissing me off."

"She's got a point then," Alessandro said, snickering.

"I don't see either of you married to someone who shot you."

"Hey, don't knock it," Emilio said with a shrug. "That kind of passion might keep things interesting."

"Passion? She flipped me off, and I retaliated. Then she shot me!"

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you couldn't handle her?"

I clenched my fists. "I handled her just fine."

"Did you?" Emilio grinned. "Because last time I checked, she's still walking around and you're the one with a bullet wound."

Alessandro snorted, and I wanted to punch both of them. A feeling I've had since the two of them started talking.

Before I could respond, my phone vibrated on the table. I glanced at the screen and saw Albert's name.

"Finally," I muttered, snatching up the phone. "Albert, what is it?"

Albert's calm voice came through the speaker. "There's a...situation with Miss Celine."

I froze, my brothers immediately leaning closer, their interest piqued. "What kind of situation?"

"I think you should come back home, sir. It's better if you see for yourself."

Alessandro smirked. "Trouble in paradise already?"

I ignored him, focusing on Albert's tone. It wasn't alarmed, but it wasn't casual either. "She's not—"

"No, sir. Not running," Albert interrupted, anticipating my question. "But it's something you'll want to address personally."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. I'll be there soon."

As I hung up, Emilio leaned back with a lazy grin. "Let me guess. Your bride-to-be is causing chaos?"

"You know," Alessandro said, laughing, "if she doesn't kill you before the wedding, I might start rooting for her."

So would I.

"You two are the worst," I snapped, standing up. "Maybe I'll make her shoot one of you next."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Emilio called after me as I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

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Antonio's mom is my spirit animal I am afraid she's such a baddie 🤭 his family's so chaotic I love them and I wonder what Albert was calling Antonio for??

anyways thank you for reading !! please remember to drink water!!

-zio 🍸