Page 5 of Crimson Vows

“Jesus, you really do have trust issues, don’t you?” I can hear a thread of hurt underneath Marco’s frustration.

“I have trust issues for a reason,” I retort, my sharp voice tinged with sadness.

Marco’s gaze softens as he reaches out, his hand hovering inches from mine. “Gia, I told you I have never lied to you, and I never will. I wasn’t pretending when I told you I wanted you. I came up with the idea of the date a week for a year so that you could see over time that I mean what I say.”

My heart clenches at his words, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of being deceived. My skin is still raw from the sting of Vincent’s betrayal.

“A year?” I repeat, my voice trembling with a mix of hope and skepticism. “And what happens after that?”

Marco’s eyes search mine, his gaze unwavering. “After that, it’s like I said. We evaluate where we stand.”

Vincent’s manipulation has shown me one thing very clearly. In this world, trust is never just given. “That’s not good enough. I need assurances of what will happen if I don’t share the same feelings at the end of the year.”

“I already told you I would make sure I take care of you. You have to be patient.”

“Yes, but how do I know you will be able to convince Vincent and the other captains?”

“Because I will,” Marco declares.

“Well, pardon me if I don’t have a lot of faith in what the men of this family say to me these days.” I look Marco squarely in the eyes. “Our first date is supposed to be this Friday.”

“And?”

“And you have until then to bring me a solid plan. One with some sort of assurances in place for me to get what’s coming to me.”

“Gia, it doesn’t work like—”

“You heard me. Don’t bother showing up if you can’t offer me that.”

Marco stares at me, his expression a mix of frustration and understanding. He runs a hand through his hair, contemplating my words. Finally, he exhales heavily and nods.

“Fine,” he concedes, his voice laced with determination. “I’ll figure it out.”

A flicker of hope ignites within me, but I remain cautious. After all, the Mafia world thrives on deception and broken promises.

“I’m serious, Marco,” I emphasize, my voice firm. “I want you to have a plan when you pick me up or don’t bother coming.”

I don’t say another word as I return to the elevator. One thing I had not thought out when I decided to head here to confront Marco was that this was Vincent’s domain. The chances of me running into him or, even worse, him and his new girlfriend were very high, and that was the last thing I needed to deal with right now.

“Gia.” Marco calls after me, but I don’t turn around. The elevator slides open, and I hear his final words. “I’ll see you Friday.”

The ride down to the lobby feels endless. As I exit, a thought crosses my mind. If Marco doesn’t devise an acceptable plan for me to gain control of what is rightfully mine, what recourse do I have? I’m not willing to walk away, but who would fight to help me keep what’s mine? It may be time for me to devise a little plan of my own.

Chapter Three

Marco

“Come in,” Vincent says, and I push the heavy office door open, the well-oiled hinges silent against my force. My jaw feels cast from iron, every muscle taut with a resolve that thrums through my veins.

My cousin Vincent sits behind his desk, a fortress of dark wood and secrets, his attention buried in the laptop before him. When he looks up, our gazes lock.

“Hey, I was hoping maybe you had a moment and we could talk.”

“Of course. Sit,” he says, gesturing to the chair opposite him. “I could use a fucking break from this shit anyway.”

I consider asking what he might be referring to but decide against it. I came here to discuss Gia, and it’s best I keep the focus on that topic. I settle into the chair, spine rigid, the cool leather a stark contrast to the heat of the moment. My hands find their place on my thighs, fingertips pressing down, anchoring me. Air fills my lungs in a measured inhale.

Vincent reclines slightly, the creak of his chair cutting through the tense silence as he sways from side to side.

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