Page 51 of Crimson Vows

“How did things with Bobby go?” I ask as we each take a bite of our sandwiches.

He considers the question as he finishes his bite. Marco’s gaze is heavy with the weight of the day’s events as he chews thoughtfully, contemplating his response. Swallowing, he finally speaks, his voice tinged with concern. “Honestly? It’s a mess. I figured out why our guys couldn’t get Bobby out.”

I know the answer immediately. “The feds?”

He nods. “Yeah, it ends up they were behind the arrest.”

“What do they have?” I reach out, placing my hand on his knee in a silent gesture of support.

“Honestly? The weird part is I don’t think they have anything. Based on what Bobby said, it sounds like they were just fishing. If I had to venture a guess, between Edward’s dying and then your dad, they are curious what it means for the organization’s infrastructure,” Marco explains. “You know Bobby, though. They probably are more confused than before they brought him in.” We both laugh.

He leans into my touch briefly before shifting slightly, his expression turning serious. “Gia, I know I’ve been busy with all of this, and I am so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for your work,” I assure him.

“Maybe, but I wanted you to know I haven’t forgotten my promise. I will figure out how to handle this situation with Vincent and what he did to you.”

My heart clenches at the mention of Vincent. “I know you will.”

His touch is gentle yet electric. I’m unguarded and vulnerable with him in ways that terrified me until recently. But the unease melts with each tender kiss, shared secret, and effort he makes to prove his loyalty to me.

“Will you come to my place tonight?” I ask, voice raw with emotion. “I need to spend time with you.” I know it is a lot to ask with the burdens hanging all around him right now, but the truth is I have been desperate to reconnect with him ever since our shared experience with Nico and Dante.

Marco’s eyes search mine for a moment, a silent conversation passing between us. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my lips. “Of course. I’ll be there,” he promises.

Chapter Nineteen

MARCO

Aquick rap of my knuckles, and suddenly, seconds stretch into eternity until the latch clicks. The door swings open, and there she is—Gia, her dark hair framing her face like a midnight halo.

“Marco.” The way she says my name is like a siren call.

“Hey, sorry I’m so late,” I say, offering her the bouquet I brought. I’ve been counting down the minutes since I saw her at lunch.

She steps aside, inviting me into her sanctuary. As soon as my boots cross the threshold, the tension in my shoulders eases.

I follow her to the kitchen, where she places the flowers in a vase full of water before offering me a glass of my favorite whiskey. She pours herself a glass of wine then leads me to the couch in the living room, where a blazing fire creates a cozy and inviting space.

We nestle in close together and sit for a while, both staring into the flames, her head resting against my chest.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” I murmur as I soak the feeling of her against me into my soul.

“Me too,” she sighs before taking another sip from her glass.

“Sometimes I wish we could leave all of this.” I gesture vaguely, encompassing the only life I’ve known. The confession sits between us, a fragile truth exposed to the light.

She shifts to look at me, scanning my face for a hint of hesitation. There’s none—only the raw need to escape.

“Leave?” She probes deeper, her tone neither discouraging nor encouraging, simply waiting for me to explain.

Knots form in my stomach as I worry she won’t understand. “This is the only life I ever knew. But since I fell in love with you, I dream of starting a family with you. I want to bring my children into a life where danger isn’t lurking around every corner and where their father isn’t some soldier who could be sent to his death one day.”

Gia nods slowly, absorbing the gravity of my words, processing the enormity of what stepping away from the Mafia means—for me, for us. “So you want freedom.”

My chest aches as I realize she does understand. “Yes! Exactly.”

Gia’s face doesn’t change; her dark eyes remain impenetrable pools in the dimly lit room. She sits back against the plush sofa. The silence stretches, taut as a wire, until she finally speaks. “You know that isn’t possible, right? Our world is built on secrets; once you know them, they don’t let you walk away.”

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