Page 47 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

His hand drops from my arm, and for a moment, we just stand there, the tension between us sizzling. I can feel it in every fiber of my being, the way his presence pulls me in. Even now, even with all this danger surrounding us.

Without another word, I leave him on the porch and head inside. My heart is pounding, adrenaline pumping. I burst into the living room, searching for that familiar shock of silver hair. I find him in deep conversation with Uncle Tony, cigars in hand.

“Dad,” I say, cutting in, my voice sharp. “We need to talk.”

He looks up, frowning. “Gia, what is it?”

I glance around, making sure no one else is listening. Aunt Carla’s ears are already perked, and Lucia suddenly seems fascinated by the carpet.

I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. “Can we move to your office?”

My father gives me a questioning stare and finally stands, motioning for Uncle Tony to follow. I troop behind them through the festive hallway, dread etched on my face. As soon as the door clicks shut, I get to the point.

“Dante’s men. They’ve been attacked. Three of them are dead.”

The men fall silent. My father’s face darkens, his jaw clenching. “When did this happen?”

“Tonight,” I say. “I think it could be connected to the attack on our estate and the sabotaged Mustang. Whoever’s behind this, they’re not stopping.”

My father exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn it.”

“We need to join forces with the Manzos,” I say, my voice firm. “If we don’t, we’re sitting ducks and you know it.”

He stares at me for a long moment, the weight of my words sinking in. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the years of bad blood between our families clouding his judgment. But this isn’t about the feud anymore.

Now It’s about survival.

“Gia...” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I’m not asking, Dad, I’m telling you. We need to work together, or we’ll all end up dead.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Get Dante in here.”

It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no, either. I’ll take it.

I leave the room, my mind racing, and crash right into Dante. His eyes are blazing underneath the twinkling lights in the hallway. It’s almost a comical sight, to see so much anger on his face in such a festive setting.

“Gia, please tell me you didn’t …”

“I did,” I say firmly, standing my ground. “Dante, you know these aren’t one-off coincidences. This all has to be connected. Don’t you want to know who’s behind it?”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I know who’s behind it. I just don’t know why they’re targeting your family too.”

“You know?” I’m stunned. He knew this whole time and volunteered none of this information.

The door creaks open, and Uncle Tony pokes his head into the hall. Dante just nods, understanding that he’s being summoned, and slips into the office.

With the door unceremoniously closed in my face, I’m left alone in the hallway, surrounded by Christmas cheer with a heart that feels like it's cracking in two.

Chapter Sixteen

Dante

Dim light spills across the polished mahogany desk where Giancarlo and Tony sit, their faces drawn and serious. There’s an air of tension in the room, the kind that tightens your chest and makes every breath feel difficult.

I take a seat opposite them, meeting their eyes. I know what this is about—the attacks. The escalating danger. The way things are spiraling out of control faster than any of us expected.

"Thank you for coming, Dante," Gia’s father starts, his voice gruff. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “We need to talk about these attacks. Your men, our estate—it’s clear someone’s trying to send us a message."

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