Page 32 of Crimson Vows

There’s a knock on the door now, followed by Nico calling out my name. Marco’s eyes flit to the door, then back to me, his expression pained. He hesitates for a moment before he finally nods.

“I promise,” he whispers hoarsely, releasing my arm as I turn away from him and stride toward the door with purpose. Marco follows.

I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face before swinging the door open. Nico and Dante stand on the other side, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Dante chuckles, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks at us and then at Nico.

“Hey, Gia,” Nico greets me with his usual stoic demeanor.

“Hey, sorry it took me so long. Marco was helping me with something, and I didn’t hear the doorbell,” I explain.

“I bet he was,” Dante whispers under his breath, and I do my best to ignore the remark.

“Oh, it’s fine. No worries,” Nico assures me, extending an arm toward me. In his hand, he holds a bottle. “I brought some wine.”

I take it from him before I gesture for them to enter. “Come in.”

Nico and Dante step into the room, their eyes scanning the suddenly tense space filled with unspoken words.

“I should probably go,” Marco suggests.

“What? No way, man. You’re already here; you should hang out with us,” Nico suggests, and my body tenses.

Marco hesitates momentarily, his gaze flickering between me and the two men who have just walked in. I can sense the unease radiating off him. He tries to excuse himself with a subtle shake of his head, but I intercept his movement.

Despite my frustration with him, I decide it will be easier to keep the grand secret if Marco is there watching me. “Yes, you should stay,” I insist, my voice firm and unwavering.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he answers.

“Don’t be silly,” I retort, linking my arm through his and guiding him into the living room. “The more, the merrier. You can open the wine Nico brought and pour everyone a glass.”

Marco nods and offers a half smile before taking the wine from me and heading to the kitchen. “On it.”

I watch him as he walks away and hope I can trust he’s telling me the truth. If I keep this secret about Vincent’s actions, the lies he has told not just to us but to the other captains, Marco will aid me in making sure Vincent pays for everything he has done.

Chapter Twelve

MARCO

I’m chopping onions, the sting in my eyes not stealing my attention from the tension between Gia and me. She’s across the kitchen, mixing a salad, her movements sharp and guarded.

“Can you pass the pepper?” she says, her voice clipped, as she glances at Nico, who stands nearby.

“Sure,” he says, sliding the shaker down the marble counter.

Focusing on them causes the knife to slip, and I nick my finger. “Dammit,” I mutter.

“Careful,” Nico rumbles before turning back to the stove. His back is a solid wall of muscle as he stirs the sauce in the pan.

“Need help?” Dante asks, walking toward me, flashing a grin.

“It’s nothing,” I grumble, slipping my finger into my mouth and sucking away the tiny drop of blood.

“Let Dante take over, will you?” Gia’s strained voice reveals her obvious annoyance. “The last thing any of us want is your blood all over the onions.”

I shoot Gia a sideways glance. Dante steps in, smoothly taking the knife from my hand with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” He chuckles. Gia’s jaw tightens, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions.

Moving over to the sink, I flip on the water, allowing it to run over my finger. Gia’s gaze lingers on me momentarily before she busies herself to set the table. The clinking of plates and silverware only serves to amplify the lingering tension in the room.

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