Page 14 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

I head up the sweeping staircase to my old room. The gnawing feeling in my gut roils and churns, threatening to bring my lunch back up.

Why the ultimatum? Why now?

Something about this entire event feels...wrong. Forced. I have a sinking suspicion that my father’s invitation isn’t just about Christmas.

As I flop onto my old four-poster bed, heady nostalgia hits me. This room holds so many haunting memories.

I look at the balcony where Dante had kissed me for the first time ages ago.

I think of the walk-in shower where I almost lost a tooth trying to recreate a steamy sex scene I read in a smutty book.

I’m lying on the bed where I gave myself to Dante for the first time.

Oh God, I need to get out of this place.

I throw on my jacket and head outside to find Matteo—if only to escape my ghosts.

The mountain lodge sparkles like it’s been plucked from a holiday postcard. Red and gold ribbons twine around every banister. Fresh pine boughs hang above the grand entrance. Twinkling lights cast a warm glow over the sprawling estate.

Matteo, my little ball of energy, is already caught up in the magic of Christmas. I laugh at Vitto’s stern face as he shows Matteo how to roll proper snowballs.

Maybe this week won’t be that bad. Maybe I can avoid that bedroom and all my memories as much as possible.

I hang out on the front lawn, watching Matteo’s cheeks turn rosy from the cold. As daylight slips into dusk, dark sedans start pulling into the driveway. More family and friends showing up for the Vitale extravaganza, no doubt.

After Matteo and Vitto proudly show off their snowmen, we head inside to get ready for dinner. Since tonight’s dinner is adults only, I bribe Matteo with an entire cheese pizza and an extended curfew. Vitto, seemingly relieved to be on babysitter duty, settles in to watch old Christmas movies in my room with Matteo.

I dress slowly, desperate to avoid tonight’s festivities. When I’ve procrastinated as much as I can, I finally opt for a forest green velvet dress and slip out of the room.

The formal room is bursting with holiday cheer. The ornate chandeliers glitter overhead as the scent of mulled wine fills the air. I nod and smile at old family friends and head straight for the bar.

Uncle Leo is at my side in an instant, dragging me into a conversation with his old cronies. I field questions about where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. Thankfully, Mom swoops in to save me and we make the rounds, welcoming friends and family.

I see a few famous faces—powerful men and women with important family names in the mafia world. Say what you will about our family, but we’ve always been known to play nice with others.

Except with the Manzos, I think bitterly.Why did it have to be the Manzos who became our sworn enemies?

A sudden shiver runs down my back and I freeze.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere. The conversations around me turn into hushed murmurs and I note some worried faces. I glance at my mother and instantly recognize the pained, yet polite, look she’s wearing.

Slowly, I turn. My heart pounds like the wings of a trapped hummingbird.

And then, I see him.

Dante.

For a second, time ceases to exist. I blink nervously, thinking I’m imagining him.

He stands at the entrance of the ballroom, looking every bit the dark, brooding devil that haunts my dreams.

His tailored suit clings to his powerful frame, his dark eyes scanning the room like a predator. When they landed on me, my brain screamsrun!

But my feet are glued to the floor. Our eyes lock, and the memories—the pain—come rushing back in full force.

The betrayal.

The loss.

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