Page 57 of Crimson Vows

“Shut up, Dante,” I warn, flashing a look at him before returning my eyes to Marco. I can feel the heat rolling off Marco in waves. “I know that wasn’t because of some joke. Do you care to tell us what the fuck is going on?”

Marco’s head snaps toward me, his eyes like two dark coals.

“I got a visit from Amelia King this morning. It would appear that it got back to her that a plan is being floated around for me to take over for Vincent as head of the family. You can imagine how pissed she was to hear this, considering that would mean I am making a move against her brother.”

“That’s insane. Who would have told her that?” I ask, staring back at Marco.

“She claims one of our captains came to her with the information that someone came to him with,” Marco explains.

I shake my head. “No way. That doesn’t make any sense. There is no way anyone could possibly have known we ever had that discussion.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Marco snaps, his biting tone making his accusations abundantly clear. “It’s a pretty big coincidence that this exact topic has been brought up multiple times within this group, and now suddenly, it’s out in the world.”

“You think one of us is behind this?” Gia gasps. “Why would we do that? We have just as much to lose as you do if what we discussed got out.”

“Well, I don’t know, Gia, but someone clearly has been talking to someone,” Marco insists.

My eyes move through the group until they settle on Dante. His head is low, and he is still clutching his jaw, nursing the blooming bruise. He’s quiet for a change, and as I stare at him, I can see he’s averting his eyes. My stomach sinks as the realization settles over me.

“Tell me you didn’t,” I plead, turning to face my friend. I step closer, the air crackling with tension. Dante’s chest heaves, sweat beading at his temple, and fear reflects back at me in his eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Dante afraid.

“It’s not like that,” he insists. “I swear. I was just talking shit—you know how it is. I wasn’t being serious or anything.”

Marco stalks forward until he stands beside me and asks, “Do you think this is some sort of a game? What? Our lives are only a stupid joke to you?”

Dante shakes his head wildly. “No, I swear. I just... I was hanging out with some of my boys, then Smitty shows up and asks if someone wants to ride along for his routes that day. It wasn’t like that. We were bitching about shit—you know. Smitty isn’t like the other captains. He’s one of us, ya know.”

“Jesus, Dante,” I moan as I realize how royally fucked we all are.

“I thought he’d understand—” Dante continues.

“Smitty?” Marco’s voice slashes through the confession. “You fucking talked to Smitty about this?”

“Yeah, but he knows I wasn’t being serious,” Dante stammers, trying to find footing on crumbling ground. “Plus, I thought if anyone would get it, he would. He has been shit on longer than any of us.”

“You fucking idiot,” Marco roars as he begins to pace. “Smitty is the last guy who would ever turn his back on this family. He stuck by Edward all those years, even though the old man treated him like shit. And now that he’s finally a made man, Vincent made him a captain. You didn’t think for a goddamn second he would feel obligated to repay him?”

Dante flinches, and it’s obvious he’s feeling cornered. “I know, I know, but—”

“Enough.” I interrupt. “Just shut the fuck up while we figure out how to fix your mess.”

Gia steps forward, her voice a quiver in the chaos. “Marco, I’m so sorry,” she pleads, dark eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. “This is all my fault. When I said what I did, I didn’t think—”

“Yeah, none of you stopped to think, did you?” Marco growls. “I warned you. I told all of you where talk like that could land us, but you didn’t listen, did you? Well, I hope you’re all happy because we’re all as good as dead!”

My throat tightens. This isn’t just anger at us; it’s pure, unadulterated fear. Marco is family. He is a blood relative to Vincent, and if he is this concerned about the information Smitty came forward with, it can’t mean anything good for the rest of us. Dante’s face drains of color in response to the weight of Marco’s statement.

My gaze flickers back and forth between them. Dante’s voice trembles slightly. “I can fix this. I’ll talk to Smitty and set things straight. I’ll tell him I didn’t mean any of it, and I was running my mouth because I was in a mood. He’ll understand.”

“Fix it?” Marco laughs. “Who the hell do you think you work for that you actually think you can undo this? Vincent is on a plane right now. Why do you think that is? Let me tell you why. He cut his trip short because he plans to set his house right.”

“Marco, I messed up. I get that.” Dante’s words are hurried, almost breathless. “But I swear I’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

“No, you’re not going to do a fucking thing! Do you hear me?” Marco commands, and his jaw clenches so tight I expect to hear teeth crack. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Panic rises in my gut. “What do we do now?”

“What if we tell Vincent the truth?” Gia asks.

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