Page 8 of Crimson Vows

“Yeah, uh, maybe you forgot. I was hoping, maybe if you weren’t too busy, you might want to go out... with me.”

My heart skips a beat as his words linger like a promise. “Are you asking me out, Nico?” My words are a soft tease.

“Is that a yes?” His guarded optimism threads through the connection, pulling at me.

“Maybe.” The word lingers between us, suspended.

“Well, yes then. If you’re available tomorrow afternoon, I would love to take you out on a date.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Nico confirms. “An afternoon date, nothing too fancy. We can grab a bite to eat, maybe take a walk in the park.”

I chew on my bottom lip, considering his offer. The prospect of spending time with Nico stirs a mix of anticipation within me.

“Okay,” I finally reply, unable to resist the temptation of the unknown. “Tomorrow sounds lovely.”

“Great. I’ll send you all the details later.”

We exchange a few more pleasantries before ending the call. Setting my phone on the dresser, I gather my thoughts. My heart pounds in my chest as I contemplate the choices before me. Nico and Marco. Both.

I smooth down a rogue strand of hair, excitement still fluttering in my stomach, when a firm knock shatters my focus. I stride to the door and pull it open.

Marco fills the frame, his presence commanding, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Can I come in?” He doesn’t wait for an invitation. “We need to talk about earlier.”

I step aside. “Of course.”

He strides past, the scent of him—woodsmoke and intent—wrapping around me. I close the door and follow him into my sanctuary, now tainted by tension.

“Have a seat,” I state. Marco doesn’t just sit; he owns the space, legs spread, an elbow resting on the back of the sofa. I hate that I find the way he moves with authority so intoxicating.

“Look, Gia...” Marco’s eyes never stray, his voice threading through the charged silence. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation since you left.”

“That was the point.” I stand my ground, crossing my arms over my chest. “And what conclusion have you come to?” My voice is steady, but a tremor of uncertainty lurks beneath the surface.

Marco’s gaze flickers with determination. “First, I want you to know I’ll talk to Patrick. I should have done that right away, so that’s on me. They need to know you are working with me and have my blessing to make decisions and oversee the operations on the other side of the business as well.”

I nod slowly, understanding the importance of this step. It would give me the authority I need to establish a name outside of Vincent or my father, but it’s still not enough. This arrangement only works as long as I allow Marco to have a place in my life.

“That might address the immediate issue,” I say, keeping my voice firm. “But what about the long-term? If I agree to this year-long dating arrangement, what assurances do I have you won’t strip everything away from me if... if I don’t end up loving you?”

He studies me, his eyes like dark mirrors reflecting a future I can’t yet see. A slow smile creeps over his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach those probing eyes.

“I have a pretty good feeling you will end up loving me.” His arrogance infuriates and excites me.

I scoff, unable to hide my incredulity. “You have a ‘pretty good feeling’?” I repeat, my voice laced with disbelief. “That’s not exactly a convincing argument.”

He leans forward, his gaze intense as he locks eyes with mine. “Gia, you were willing to marry Vincent without love,” he points out.

“And look where that got me. I told you to come here with a plan to make me feel secure. I’m not hearing one.”

“Fall in love with me or not,” he begins, his tone laced with a challenge. “There’s a way to secure your place.”

“I’m listening.”

He pauses, the weight of his gaze anchoring me in place. “Marry me, Gia.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected. “Marry you?” The question tumbles out, tinged with disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

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