Page 22 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

Aunt Lucia shoots me an apologetic glance as we walk in. “For the record, I told her not to do it.”

“But we really do need these items!” Carla protests. “And I really do feel safer if you’re not driving around alone!”

“And?”

“And he’s Matteo’s father! Don’t you think it’s time you put your little teenage breakup behind you?”

There it was. The real reason.

“Listen to me.” I level my gaze, sweeping from Carla to Lucia. “I know you mean well—I do. But I’m Matteo’s mother and I decide what’s best for him…and that’snothaving Dante or the Manzos anywhere near him.”

Carla nods and shifts her attention to the list. Aunt Lucia hums quietly, bustling around the kitchen. The tension is thick. Awkward.

But I said what I needed to say.

I trudge through the lodge with the list in hand, every step bringing me closer to a full day alone with Dante.

My body tries to intervene and I trip in my impractical heeled boots. Steadying myself, I take a deep breath, pull on my jacket, and step outside.

The crisp winter air hits me hard, tiny snowflakes pelting my face. A soft, glittering blanket of snow covers the ground as far as the eye can see. The world feels both serene and suffocating at the same time.

And there he is.

Dante stands by the edge of the porch, gazing out into the distance and twirling his keys.

He looks handsome, rugged, and impossibly distant.

My heart races, a mix of emotions swirling within me. The man I loved six years ago turns his head and gives me a tentative crooked smile. It’s the same boyish smile that made me fall for him all those years ago.

Get a hold of yourself, Gia.

He’s not the boy you loved anymore. He’sIl Diavolonow. He’s feared by everyone. He can’t love you, and he certainly can’t be a good father.

But what if he still does love me? What if all that love and softness is buried deep inside him, waiting to be awoken once again?

What if my child is missing out on the chance to have his father in his life, all because I’m stubborn and scared?

Chapter Eight

Dante

The cold air stings my face as I climb into the car. I start the engine, fighting off a shiver.

Gia sits beside me, silent, staring out the window. Tension wraps around us, thick as the snow falling outside.

The roads are slick, and we haven’t even left the driveway yet. I already feel the weight of the day pressing down on us both.

This tension isn’t just about being forced together by her aunts. It’s about the conversation we’ve been avoiding.

Matteo.

She thinks I don’t notice, but I’ve seen the way she stiffens when his name comes up. I’ve noticed the way her eyes dart away when I ask too many questions. She’s hiding something, and I have a damn good guess about what it might be.

I grip the steering wheel tightly as we finally pull onto the main road. The silence stretches between us, thick and uneasy. Snow blankets everything, turning the landscape into a world of white.

But all I can focus on is Gia.

I feel every covert glance she sneaks over in my direction. I notice the rise and fall of her chest. My gaze catches on the rosy pink lip she’s got trapped between her teeth.

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