Page 17 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

But I can’t.

Even fighting with her is better than silence.

“I know your family betrayed mine.”

“You think I had anything to do with that?”

“I think you’re one of them, Gia. That’s enough.”

Her lips tremble, but her voice is steady when she speaks. “I didn’t betray you.”

The silence stretches between us again, thick with everything unsaid.

I want to believe her. Hell, I want to do more than that.

But I can’t. Not when my father’s blood is on her family’s hands.

We’re standing too close now. My mind is screaming at me to walk away, to keep the distance between us.

But my body—my body has other ideas.

My hand itches to touch her, to pull her closer. Despite everything, I still want her. The realization only fuels my anger.

“I can’t trust you.”

“Then why are you still standing here, Dante?”

Her question hits hard, cutting deeper than I want to admit.

I’m about to say something—anything—but then Matteo’s voice calls from inside. Gia’s eyes flicker, and she steps back.

The moment between us is shattered.

I watch as she walks away, disappearing back into the house. My heart pounds, but I shove the pain down. This trip isn’t about feelings. This visit is about power. I need to stay focused.

The day passes in a blur of virtual meetings and calls with my uncle. My mind is only half on what needs to be done.

The rest of me is stuck on Gia. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face, her fiery expression, the way her body moved so close to mine.

Uncle Tony’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “You need to focus, Dante. These new families moving into the city, they’re not playing by the old rules.”

“I know,” I mutter, glancing at the information Enzo emailed me earlier. Normally, I’d be handling Russo with cold efficiency, but Gia—she’s getting under my skin.

“You’re thinking about her.”

“I’m not.”

He chuckles. “Sure, kid. Just don’t let it cloud your judgment. The Vitales may act like they’re playing nice now, but they’re not very good actors.”

That night, I can’t sleep. The house is too quiet, too full of ghosts. I sneak out of my room, needing something to take the edge off.

Time to test-drive Giancarlo’s whiskey selection.

When I can’t find the bar, I end up in the kitchen, praying for a cold beer at the very least. I steal into the darkened room and the energy shifts almost instantly.

I don’t need to turn on the lights to find out why. I can feel her presence. My soul has always called to hers.

Gia’s sitting on the counter, sipping a glass of water. She’s in a silk robe, her hair cascading down her back. The soft moonlight pouring into the kitchen casts a glow around her.

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