Page 30 of Crimson Vows

“Then you call first,” I remind him firmly.

Marco stops abruptly, his back rigid as he faces me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “You don’t understand.”

“So help me understand.”

“There are things you don’t know,” he grumbles, still pacing and refusing to look at me. I can see his thoughts are weighed down by something heavy.

“You’re not making any sense,” I huff, not shielding him from my frustration. “You’re the one who just showed up at my house being all cryptic. Either come here to say what you have to say or please leave. I have plans.”

With a frustrated growl, Marco finally turns to face me, his eyes burning with an intensity I’ve never seen before. He grabs my shoulders, his grip firm and unyielding, as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Fuck, Gia, I don’t give a shit about some plans you might have. What I came here with, it’s... it’s going to change everything.”

“Dammit, Marco,” I hiss as I pull away from him. “So fucking tell me already.”

Marco’s gaze softens slightly, and a wave of regret passes over his features. “I don’t know if I should,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know how you’ll react.”

“I’m a big girl. I think I can handle whatever you have to tell me.”

Marco exhales, and his shoulders slump slightly. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash if I tell you.”

“Will you just tell me already,” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

“Vincent... I overheard him having a conversation in his office.” Marco pauses, and I hold my breath as I wait to find out what has him in such a state. “He was talking about something that involves you.”

The air in the room turns thick with tension. “What do you mean?” I scoff, utterly clueless as to why my name would ever again cross the lips of Vincent King. My mind races, thoughts colliding like crashing waves. The idea of the man I thought I loved using me as a pawn in some twisted game makes my face flush hot with anger.

Marco looks at me, his jaw clenching, and I can tell by the look on his face and his resistance that the information is worse than anything I could imagine.

Without thinking about it, I lunge forward, shoving him before I shout, “Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Marco stumbles back, a shocked look on his face in response to my outburst. “Listen to me, Gia. You need to stay calm.”

“Calm?” My bitter laughter has a hysterical edge. “You show up at my house and tell me that your piece-of-shit cousin has the nerve to even utter my name to someone, and you tell me I need to stay calm? Tell. Me. Now.”

The words hang, suspended in the charged stillness. The rage that has ignited in me refuses to be tamed. My breaths come fast, uneven, as the words ricochet around my skull.

Marco steps closer. His hand lifts, hesitates, and then settles on my shoulder with a gentle weight. “He didn’t know I was outside the door, listening to them.”

“Them who?” I ask, allowing Marco to glide his hand comfortingly from my shoulder to my lower back.

“I couldn’t see, but I know I heard Alexei’s and Nikolai’s voices,” he answers.

I blink up at him repeatedly in confusion. “Why would he be discussing me with them?”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Marco sighs before turning and collapsing on the couch. I join him and place a hand on his thigh, hoping to disarm him enough to confide in me.

“What’s happening?”

Marco swallows hard and then sucks in a sharp breath before he continues. “He called them there to tell them something he found out. He knows who was behind the attack when Alexei and his brother were kids.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Gia, it was your father,” Marco replies flatly.

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