Page 52 of Crimson Vows

“I know,” I reply, my voice heavy with resignation. “It doesn’t stop me from wishing we could have that life, though.”

Her hand finds mine, fingers entwining in a silent show of solidarity. The fire crackles softly, casting dancing shadows across the room.

“We’ll just have to figure out a future where our children’s father isn’t some soldier doing as he is told,” Gia offers. I want to take comfort in this suggestion, but I’m reminded of her comment about me being the head of the family on the night we all shared Gia’s bed. I had hoped the dangerous idea was a passing thought, but her cryptic words warn me it may not be.

“Dante and Nico came to see me the other day,” I say, watching her for a response.

“Oh yeah?” She doesn’t move her gaze from the fireplace as she watches the flames dance.

I take a deep breath before speaking, relaying the conversation with Dante and Nico that a new leader needed to be installed at the head of the table. Gia listens intently, her expression unreadable as she takes in each word. When I finish recounting the interaction, a heavy silence settles between us, thick with unspoken implications. Gia finally turns to me, her eyes holding a steely determination.

“What did you tell them?” she asks.

“That they can never repeat those words to anyone else,” I reply. “Not if they want to live.”

“They aren’t wrong,” she starts, her voice low, each word deliberate. “You and I know there are far better options to lead this family than Vincent.”

“Better options,” I echo slowly, rolling the idea over my tongue. “I know what you’re insinuating, and as much as I adore the three of you think so much of me and what I do for this family, I don’t want the throne.”

Gia’s gaze lingers on me, searching for something in my eyes I can’t quite decipher. Her following words are measured as if she’s treading carefully on thin ice. “You may not want it, Marco, but sometimes the reluctant leader is the one who deserves it the most.”

I shake my head. It’s not as if I hadn’t given this much thought since the idea was initially planted in my head. At the end of the day, I had made my decision. As angry as I was with Vincent, I would not make a move to unseat him. “I can’t... I won’t... betray Vincent like that.”

Her hand tightens around mine. “It’s not about betrayal; it’s about survival. For you, for me, for all of us.”

“Stop it, okay? I don’t want there to be any more talk about removing Vincent as head of this family. As long as I’m his consigliere, I will do everything I can to help him be a better leader. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll surprise us.”

She scoffs. “I doubt that.”

“I know this is hard for you after finding out what he did, but I need you to trust me,” I plead.

She pulls away, increasing the distance between us. “So what? You lied when you said you would get me justice.”

I pause because her words sting. “I told you I would never lie to you. But justice isn’t always straightforward, not for people like us.”

Her expression hardens slightly, and I glimpse the anger she is trying to hide. “What the hell does that mean?” she demands defiantly.

I rake a hand through my hair before proposing, “I have been thinking about it, and I thought maybe we could demand compensation for the pain he has caused.”

Gia’s dark eyes lock onto mine, piercing. “Money?” Her lip curls ever so slightly. “That’s your solution?”

“It’s... complicated,” I argue. “I will have to tell Vincent I overheard his private conversation just to ask him for that much.”

“Are you serious? You really think you can put a price on the suffering he has put me through?” She stands, arms crossed against her chest.

I watch her, feeling the distance like a chasm. Her walls are up, and I need to act quickly to bridge the gap.

“Wait,” I say, standing as well. “It’s not about money, okay? It’s about exposing him, making sure everyone knows what he did.”

She stops and turns. There’s a glint in her eyes, a spark that tells me she’s intrigued. “How do you do that?”

“Vincent constantly worries about how people perceive him. He’s always worried they will think he doesn’t measure up to his father.” I pace. “We drag him into the light. Part of the financial contribution is that he has to make a public declaration to the captains that the purpose of the payment is to put right what he did to you.”

Her gaze meets mine again, and there’s a shift. Thoughts race behind those guarded eyes, calculating, considering. “What if he refuses?”

I sigh. “Unfortunately, I am willing to bet he will refuse. If he does, we make it public anyway. I’ll find a way to tell everyone the truth, with or without his cooperation,” I announce. “Everyone will know it wasn’t you who killed your father.”

She stares at me, and from her expression, I know she understands the risks involved in my plan. Everything hinges on the idea that Vincent cares enough about me that he won’t kill me for even making the suggestion.

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