Page 32 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

But I don’t. I just shake my head, stepping further away from her.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” I say.

Her shoulders slump, and she takes a shaky breath. But I can see it in her eyes—the hurt, the confusion.

I turn away, running a hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together. I can still feel her eyes on me, the tension hanging thick in the air.

I need to get out of here. Cool off. Before I do something I’ll regret.

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering rips through the air. My head snaps toward the front of the house, and instinct kicks in. I move toward the noise, heart racing, every muscle in my body tensing.

“What was that?” Gia’s voice is shaky, and when I glance back, I see her standing there, eyes wide with fear. The haze of the wine is broken, replaced by worry and fear.

“Stay here,” I say, heading toward the door.

Another crash. Then shouting. It’s coming from outside. My blood goes cold.

I blunder into the uncles and Giancarlo at the front door—all of us confused, stunned.

It’s the day before Christmas fucking Eve.What the hell is this?

Giancarlo pulls me back from bursting out the front door, and we make a rapid game plan. Roman, Leo, and I take the back door. We separate from the others, guns at the ready.

I burst through the back door, scanning the grounds. The lodge is surrounded by woods, snow blanketing the ground. It’s dark, but I can make out shadows moving near the edge of the property.

Too many shadows. Figures slipping through the trees, creeping closer.

My fingers grip the gun tight, the cold metal grounding me. This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to take a shot at me. It won’t be the last.

But tonight?

Tonight, they’ve picked the wrong man to mess with.

The shadows get closer, and I see them now. Men. Armed. My mind races, calculating the odds, assessing the threat. There are at least five of them. Maybe more.

The back door opens behind me, and Gia steps out. “Dante, what…”

“Get inside!” I snap, not even looking back at her. Roman is quick on his feet, trying to push her back inside.

“Get Matteo. Make sure he’s safe,” I hear his harsh whisper.

She hesitates. Then there’s no time to argue. The first shot rings out, and I hit the ground, pulling Gia down with me. The bullet zips over our heads, smashing into the side of the house.

“Stay down,” I growl, crawling toward the nearest tree for cover.

She’s frozen, eyes wide with shock.

Damn it.

I peek around the tree, aiming at the first man I see. One shot. He goes down.

The others scatter, taking cover behind the trees, but I know they’re still there. Waiting. I grit my teeth, moving to a better position, trying to get a clear shot.

I can see Leo on the ground in the bushes, his gun trained in the distance. Another bullet flies past, missing him by inches.

My blood pumps faster, adrenaline flooding my veins. I fire again, clipping one of them in the leg. He falls, cursing loudly.

I hear Uncle Roman whistle, a warning. And out of nowhere, pain explodes in my side.

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