Page 3 of Crimson Vows

Heat creeps into my cheeks, unfamiliar pride mingling with the swirl of emotions. I’ve never been one for praise, but coming from Nico, it feels like validation—like absolution.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion.

My chest tightens, and I force myself to breathe. Even now, the echo of the gunshot rings in my ears, the decision that split my life into before and after. But regret? No, it doesn’t find a home in my heart. I can’t allow it to, or I don’t think I’ll be able to live with what I did.

“Actually...” My gaze drifts past him toward the elevators. “I’m here because I need to see Marco. I thought I’d surprise him.”

“Upstairs?” Nico raises an eyebrow, a silent question hanging between us.

“Can you help me?” I need this favor, this alliance, yet asking for it reveals my vulnerability.

“And he doesn’t know you’re coming?” Nico asks apprehensively.

I laugh, trying to sound calm about the situation. “Well, then, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

“No, I suppose not.” Nico eyes me, looking for any hint that something might be off about my request. I force a smile, widening my eyes.

“I mean, I guess I can call up and let him know I’m here,” I offer. “I thought it would be fun to surprise him.”

Nico waves a hand. “Of course, I’ll ride up with you.”

“No, you don’t have to,” I assure him.

“Well, if you want to get up there without alerting him you are here to get buzzed up, then you will need my security badge,” Nico explains. “And that doesn’t leave my possession.”

I raise my hands nervously. “Okay then, let’s go.”

He leads the way as we step into the elevator. Nico’s presence looms beside me, a solid wall of muscle and resolve. The doors slide shut with a soft whisper, sealing us from the rest of the world.

As the elevator hums its ascent, Nico turns to me. His intense and unwavering eyes search mine. “I’m sorry if this is weird, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I know you’re still dealing with everything that happened with your dad, but when you feel like you’re in a better place,” he says, “I... was hoping... well, I was wondering if you would like to see me again. Not because I owe you or out of obligation or something.” He swallows hard, the Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d like to take you out. Because I want to. I mean, if you want to.”

Something about seeing such a strong and tough man get twisted up around his words out of nerves is sweet and endearing. His question hangs there, suspended in the tight space between us. “You mean like a date?”

He nods.

I reach out, fingers curling around the solid warmth of Nico’s arm. “Of course,” I reply, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. “I’d like that.”

The connection zings, an electric current from my fingertips to the hollow of my stomach. Then, with a gentle chime, reality intrudes.

The elevator doors glide open. The corridor’s cold air rushes in, carrying with it the scent of cologne and underlying tension. Marco stands there. His posture is rigid, eyes flinty as they flick from Nico to me. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

“Explain,” he commands, staring at the man next to me, his voice low but edged with steel.

Nico stiffens beside me, the arm under my hand turning to stone. He faces Marco, and the lines of his body are writing an apology I wish he didn’t have to make.

“Marco,” he starts, voice steady despite the ice in those two syllables. “Gia wanted—”

But it’s not his explanation to give. I tighten my grip on his arm, ready to claim my part in this unfolding drama.

“Surprise,” I manage at last.

“Surprise?” Marco’s voice is silk over steel. “Nico, why is she here?”

Nico opens his mouth, his usually steady voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. “She... she wanted to see you. She thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

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