Page 29 of Crimson Vows

“That’s all I’m asking,” I assure him.

Dante eases to a stop. His blue eyes meet mine, and there’s a promise in them to at least make an effort tonight.

We step out onto the sidewalk, the night wrapping us in its embrace, the city’s hum a distant echo. I reach out, my hand landing on the soft fabric covering Dante’s arm.

“Hey,” I say barely above a whisper. “I got you.”

His gaze locks on mine, blue eyes sharp and attentive.

He nods. “I know.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks, his tone gruff as always.

I let my fingers linger, feeling the warmth of his skin radiate through his clothes. “For understanding why I need to have her in my life.”

Dante snorts softly, but there’s no mockery in the sound, only recognition. “You don’t owe me thanks for that.”

“I do. I know this isn’t easy.”

“Shit, Nico.” Dante’s low rumble breaks the tension. He shakes his head, disbelief playing across his features. “You’re one hell of a complex guy.”

“Complex?” I quirk up an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He shrugs, his massive shoulders moving in a fluid motion that belies their bulk. “Just trying to keep up with you.”

“I’m serious. Not everyone is receptive to this whole polyamory deal...”

“I’m not sure I would say I have exactly been receptive,” he chuffs.

My lips twitch. “More than most.”

He shrugs. “You might be complicated, but you definitely keep things interesting.”

I give him a playful shove, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. “Can’t have you getting bored now, can we?”

Dante chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he shoots me a mischievous look. “Bored? Yeah, I don’t see that ever fucking happening with you.”

Side by side, we move toward Gia’s place, the familiarity of our stride grounding me. A final glance passes between us; no additional words are needed.

Chapter Eleven

GIA

Twenty Minutes Ago

Ireach for the door, the cool metal of the knob familiar beneath my fingers. I pull it open, ready to greet Nico and Dante with a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. The façade drops when I see Marco instead.

“Marco?” My whisper echoes confusion in the dimly lit hallway.

He doesn’t wait for an invitation as his large frame pushes past me, the scent of leather and something darker enveloping the space. His jaw is set, eyes stormy as they meet mine for a fleeting moment before he turns away.

“Marco?” I asked, stunned. “What are you doing here?”

He shakes his head as I follow him into my living room, and the fact that Nico and Dante are set to arrive at any moment is at the forefront of my thoughts.

“I had to see you,” he replies as he begins to pace the length of the rug in front of my fireplace.

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