Page 48 of Crimson Vows

“You’re right. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut,” I say, offering the measured statement. “I’m sorry.”

Marco’s gaze flickers between us, and he weighs his words carefully. “Vincent is family,” he finally states, the conviction in his tone unwavering. “We stand by family. But... hypothetically, if things changed, what were you thinking?”

And there’s the opening I never thought I would see. When it comes to loyal men, Marco tops that list, but it would appear doubt has made its way into his head. “Hypothetically? My guess is we aren’t the only ones who see it. Everyone knows Edward was considering other options to take over for him, and it’s becoming pretty clear why. Vincent does what is in his best interests without much regard for anyone else. That’s not what a boss is supposed to do. That’s not why anyone follows a leader.”

As Marco takes another drink, his Adam’s apple bobs slightly. “Vincent’s got a grip on the captains after Anthony.”

“Does he?” My fists clench at my sides, the tension coiling in my muscles. “Or are we too scared to see if we’re not alone in our feelings about his leadership?”

He sets his glass down with a soft clink. “It’s one thing to have rumblings about his competency; it’s another to actually make a move against him.”

“Maybe,” I reply, my resolve hardening. “But what if I’m right and the other captains are having the same thoughts about his leadership? How long will it be before outside threats sniff out those weaknesses and try to exploit them? What if—”

“Stop. Do you hear yourself?” he snaps. “You’re not thinking clearly. You forget, Amelia’s an Ivanov now. Her marriage to Alexei binds her to them, and there is no way she will allow her brother to be unseated as head of this family. You’re underestimating the power of that union.”

“You really think Alexei would be willing to go to war for his wife’s brother?” I ask doubtfully.

“I think my cousin could convince her new husband to do anything she asked him to,” I answer honestly.

“Vincent’s grip is slipping,” Dante interjects. “I’m telling you, I see it out there; the captains sense weakness.”

Marco leans back in his chair, a statue of contemplation. His eyes narrow slightly, not in anger but in thought. It seems as if he’s actually considering what we’re saying to him.

“I agree it has to be done very delicately. We need to start talking. Plant seeds of doubt, draw out their concerns,” I say. “Once we get an idea of who might be on our side, we start mentioning the idea that you could lead them. Marco, I really do think they would be open to it. You have the respect and the loyalty that Vincent’s losing.”

He holds up a hand, and I fall silent. There’s a warning etched into the lines of his face, a tension that wasn’t there moments ago. Marco’s jaw tightens, and his gaze shifts to the window, looking into the night sky. The room is swallowed by a heavy silence, broken only by the ticking of the ornate clock on the wall.

After what feels like an eternity, Marco finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “I appreciate your loyalty to me and Gia, but this conversation...” He chooses his words carefully. “This conversation never happened. Understood?”

The finality in his tone brooks no argument. I nod slowly, sensing the weight of his decision. Dante remains silent beside me, with a simmering intensity in his gaze, and I’m hoping he’s smart enough to stay quiet.

“Now, I have things I need to take care of,” he continues. “You’ll have to excuse me.” I turn toward the door and pull Dante behind me. Before we make it out of the room, Marco adds, “You both need to understand if you breathe a word of what was said here, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Understood,” I reply, and we make our way to the elevator.

“That’s it?” Dante gasps once we are outside the office. “We’re really going to keep taking orders from that piece of shit? Vincent needs to—”

“That’s enough,” I snap. “You heard Marco. That’s the end of it. He says he’ll figure something out for Gia, and we have to trust that.”

Dante grumbles under his breath. As we enter the elevator, the confined space amplifies the tense atmosphere.

“Dante,” I whisper urgently. “If Marco says it’s too big of a risk, we gotta listen to him.”

He shoots me a sharp look, his eyes narrowed with defiance. “I’m not going to just sit back and watch Vincent ruin—”

“Shut up!” I shout in frustration. “You are going to be quiet for once, and we are going to do exactly what Marco tells us. Do you understand?”

As we step out, Dante nods in reluctant agreement.

Chapter Eighteen

Gia

“Morning,” I greet the managers gathered around the mahogany table, their faces blending curiosity and apprehension. “Thank you for taking the time to come here today. We have a lot to discuss.” They know me as Anthony’s daughter, but they’ve never seen Gia Casaletto take the reins like this. These were my father’s top soldiers, but I know that trying to secure that same loyalty will not be easy.

Marco stands by the door, his presence a silent pillar of support. His dark gaze follows my every move, but he doesn’t speak. It’s my show now, and he is here only to ensure they listen.

“First off,” I say, flipping open my sleek leather notebook, “we’re overdue for an inventory audit of every asset, every account. I need to know what resources we have if we are to start making the right moves.”

---