Page 46 of Crimson Vows

“That’s not the King I was talking about,” Gia announces.

I exchange glances with the other men in the room before looking back at Gia. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“You’re Edward’s nephew. You were practically raised in that house. The captains trust you, and no one questioned it when you went from being a soldier to consigliere,” Gia continues.

I shake my head. “Just saying this could get you killed. Could get us all killed,” I warn her.

Gia’s determination is unwavering. “Vincent’s actions have consequences, and we can’t sit back and let him manipulate everyone,” she declares, her voice steady despite the gravity of her words.

Nico looks at me. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe Gia’s right. If Vincent is more interested in sharing his secrets with the enemy than his own consigliere, why would we trust him? Everything you do is to protect this family. Maybe it should be you.”

“Stop!” I exclaim, ensuring my voice is firm so they each understand that the words they have uttered here today can never be spoken again. “That’s enough. I refuse to hear another word of this insanity. Removing Vincent isn’t an option, and that’s the end of it. As far as Vincent is concerned and what he did to Gia, I will make sure something is done about it.”

The room seems to take a collective breath in and out, and they all nod in response to my words. Gia smiles at me and softly offers, “I know you’ll make things right.”

I draw her into a comforting embrace, feeling the weight of her trust settle on my shoulders. I don’t know how to keep my promise to her, but I’ll find a way.

Chapter Sixteen

Marco

My hand slams the phone back on the cradle after another useless conversation with a cop we own. “What’s the point of dirty badges if they can’t pull their weight when it matters?” I snarl into the empty room.

“I need to talk to Judge Bishop,” I bark into the phone after I dial another number. My sharp voice cuts through the excuses on the other end. The clock ticks ominously, mocking the chaos of my multitasking—dialing, talking, commanding. None of it seems to be getting me anywhere.

“I don’t give a shit who he has in his office. You tell him Marco King is on the phone for him, and it’s urgent,” I snap. The innocent woman on the other end of the line is clearly unnerved by my demeanor as she places me on hold to do as I have instructed.

My morning began with a call to tell me one of our captains, Bobby, was arrested last night during a raid. When it comes to a captain, every second counts. If one of our guys doesn’t respond to the call, some eager detective is always bound to pressure them, hoping to get them to flip on someone higher up in the organization. That’s the least of my concerns, though, as my faith in Bobby is rock solid. My only concern right now is proving that I can handle everything while Vincent is away. How can I possibly expect people to listen to what I have to say if they can’t trust me to handle situations as they arise?

Gia’s image dances behind my closed lids as I wait on the line. Dark hair and eyes that see right through me. I can almost feel her, the ghost touch of skin on skin. It’s been days since she was tangled up with us, lost in a haze of lust and twisted sheets. Days since I’ve even seen her face, her absence an ache in my chest that rivals the pounding headache from the endless calls.

A moment later, the muffled voice of the judge comes over the line. I explain the situation about our captain but am only greeted with excuses.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully,” I growl into the receiver. “If our guy isn’t out in the next hour, a certain recording of you will be the top story on the news tonight, got it?” I slam the phone down, not waiting for a response. I hate calling in a favor with the judge on something that should have been so simple, but Bobby has already been inside for far too long.

My fingers drum impatiently on the desk. It feels like everything erupted into chaos as soon as Vincent left for his trip, and I’ve been swimming against the tide ever since.

There is a knock on the office door. “What?” I shout, my annoyance flaring up at the intrusion.

“Marco, we need to talk about Gia,” Dante says, urgency lacing his tone as he bounds into my office.

“What’s wrong with Gia?” I ask, panic gripping my chest.

“Well, nothing besides the shit Vincent did to her,” Dante says, and Nico enters the room behind him.

“I told you not to fucking bother him,” Nico grunts.

My jaw clenches in response to the interruption. “I told you both I’m handling it.”

“Handling it?” Dante scoffs. “Doesn’t look like it from where we’re standing.”

“Nico, you better remind your boy who he’s talking to,” I warn. “Or I will!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Nico says, pulling on Dante’s massive frame and trying to shift him toward the door.

“No.” Dante pulls away. “That’s bullshit. Tell him what you said earlier.”

“Shut up,” Nico hisses in his friend’s direction.

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