Page 25 of Crimson Vows

A blush creeps up my neck at his boldness. I know the suggestion was probably only made in jest, but the idea of multiple men having their way with me causes an ache deep within.

Me: One can always hope.

I hit send and slip my phone back into my pocket, my mind already racing ahead to the evening. The market fades around me, just background noise to the anticipation curling in my stomach.

A buzz against my thigh pulls me from fantasies of the evening. I tug out my phone, expecting another round with Nico, but the name at the top of the screen sends a different sensation through me.

Marco: Thinking of you, Gia.

My smile blooms as I stand in the center of the market’s commotion. People brush past, none of them knowing that with a few simple words, this man has lit my day.

Me: Is that so?

I type back, still riding the high of playful banter earlier. While I am eager to get to know Nico better, and I will admit I love the way being desired makes me feel, Marco stirs something else. As terrifying as the idea is, I sense he is truthful when he says he cares deeply for me. If I’m honest, I want to be loved by someone, but I don’t think I’m built that way. I always manage to find a way to keep them at arm’s length, even when that isn’t my intention.

The three dots blink, indicating his reply is coming. I wait, the bag growing heavier on my arm.

Marco: I can’t quit thinking about last night... or this morning, for that matter.

I can almost hear his deep and sure, teasing yet sincere voice. A chuckle escapes me, drawing curious glances from passersby. They move on quickly, absorbed in their own worlds, as I tap out my response.

Me: Memorable, for sure.

The message sails into the ether. It’s hard to believe so much has happened in less than twenty-four hours. When Marco picked me up for dinner last night, I hoped for an incredible end to the evening, but between a passion-filled night then brunch with Nico—learning that we were so much more alike than most. My head spins at the whirlwind of emotions and desires that now tug at my heartstrings.

Another text pings on my phone, breaking through the haze of remembrance. I glance down to see Marco’s name flashing on the screen again.

Marco: Do you have any regrets about your decision?

My mind drifts to Marco’s unexpected offer of marriage. His words echo in my thoughts, mingling with the memory of his touch and the intensity of our shared moments. After how he handled Nico’s surprise appearance this morning, I have no doubts accepting his proposal was the right thing to do. The fact he hasn’t asked me about the date with Nico shows he won’t be the possessive type. As much as trust isn’t something that comes easy to me, especially after Vincent’s betrayal, Marco seems to have a way of dismantling my defenses. I type out my reply, a mix of honesty and vulnerability.

Me: No regrets, not a single one.

I hit send.

The confession leaves me feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way I don’t usually allow.

Marco: Looking forward to proving you made the right decision.

His message is wrapped in an invisible embrace that I feel down to my toes.

Me: Promises, promises . . .

I send off one last message before sliding my phone away. Satisfied, I turn my attention back to the evening ahead of me. As I leave the market, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows that dance upon the streets.

As excited as I am to get to know Nico better and hopefully win over Dante, there only seems to be one thing standing in my way. As much as it irks me to say because I swore I would never again be so easily swayed by a man, I can’t seem to fucking get Marco out of my mind.

Chapter Nine

Marco

Ipace; each step is a silent war, a clash between what I know and what I feel. Gia’s face flickers in my mind, her dark hair a shadow across her sorrowful eyes. As much as I manage to pretend otherwise when I’m with her, the thought of her with someone else twists my insides like barbed wire. I tried to convince myself I would be okay with this arrangement, but I didn’t know the more I was around her, the more I would want to spend every waking moment with her. My hands clench, knuckles whitening, releasing only to rake through my hair in frustration.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. I can’t control her desires or her choices. The last thing I can risk is her sensing I feel some sort of ownership over her. If one thing will push her away, it would be that. Initially, I didn’t recognize my feelings, but now I understand. This gut-wrenching jealousy isn’t something I’ve ever felt—that is, until Gia.

When Nico showed up this morning, I put on one hell of a show. I made sure they both felt confident I was comfortable with the arrangement between us all. Still, behind the façade, my mind swirls with conflicting emotions. The very idea of her being with another man sent a surge of possessiveness through me that I struggled to contain. It was a primal instinct.

Gia wants an open relationship. The words taste like bile on my tongue. As much as I am desperate to make her see I can be the man she wants, I worry that’s the last thing I can be. I need direction. Vincent. If anyone understands the conflict between duty and desire, it’s him. However, I am confident that the last person Gia would want me discussing our relationship with is my cousin.

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