Page 46 of Dark Mafia Vows

“We have an event tonight,” Dario snaps, and the coldness of his harsh voice hits me. “You need to wear it.”

“Gold isn’t my color.”

“You will wear the fucking ring, Ginny,” he hisses, his eyes darkening with barely restrained fury.

I meet his gaze, my deep-seated hatred for him flaring up again.

“And what if I don’t?” I challenge, lifting my chin up in defiance.

“The consequences of disobeying me are severe. You won’t like them,” he growls, his words sinking into me like poison. “I can end this contract whenever I want. It would be nothing for me, but for you? Your family will fall to ruin. It wouldn’t cost me a damned thing.”

His threat hits me square in the chest, squeezing out any breath I had left.

I feel my hatred for him intensify, clawing at my insides. My mind replays that night in the kitchen—every heated glance, every stolen breath, the undeniable chemistry that crackled between us. A stupid, foolish part of me thought that night had changed something between us.

Stupid, stupid girl.

“I fucking hate you, Dario,” I spit, my voice trembling with raw emotion.

“The feeling is mutual, Ginevra,” he says coldly, his emerald eyes hard as stone. “Just do what you’re asked, and stop acting like a spoiled child. I won’t be as tolerant the next time you defy my orders.”

I want to scream, to push him away, to rip him apart with every insult I can think of, but deep down, I know that’s what he wants. He’s still the cold, ruthless Dario De Luca, and he’s waiting for me to break, to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.

I try to sidestep him, but his body blocks my path, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. “Move,” I demand, my voice low, but the firmness of it barely conceals the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

A sliver of dark satisfaction flickers in his eyes, and he finally steps back, giving me just enough space to breathe.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, Princess,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “Be ready when I return. And, oh—wear something red.”

With those parting words, he turns and walks out, leaving me standing there with a racing heart.

20

DARIO

She’s wearing black.

We’re both seated in the plush leather back seat of my car, the hum of the engine the only sound in the stillness. The stiffness crackling in the air feels palpable—so thick that it can be sliced through with a knife.

Ginny sits beside me in silence as we glide through the city lights, her presence all too electric.

When she stepped out earlier—thirty minutes late, just to spite me—I couldn’t breathe for a second. Something in me twisted warm and tight. I felt all my breath leave my chest before something squeezed the dark hollow left behind.

Her defiance—fuck, it drives me mad. But it also consumes me.

That black dress, the one hugging every curve, made my blood run hot. It clung to her body like it was painted on. The V-shaped neckline plunged low, revealing the smooth, supple skin of her cleavage. The skirt hugged her hips, and the slit that ran up her midthigh revealed flashes of her smooth, creamy skin. She’s a vision—deadly and beautiful.

I thought red was her color but seeing her in black made all my inhibitions fly out the window. Almost. My restraint is hanging by a thin rope, ready to snap at any moment.

And then there was the ring. My ring. Wrapped around her slender finger like a claim—a reminder she’s mine filled me with dark satisfaction.

Balling my hands into fists, I cast her another glance suddenly overcome with a surge of possessiveness. The sequin fabric of her dress shimmers under the soft glow of the city lights streaming through the windows.

Her hair cascades in loose waves that frame her face perfectly, while her makeup highlights her striking features— smoky eyes that could pierce through me and red lips that make me want to ruin the distance between us, to crush my mouth against hers until she’s breathless.

My eyes travel lower, to the slit in her dress that parts even further with each shift of her legs. Her smooth thighs tempt me in the most torturous way.

Grinding my teeth, I tear my gaze away from her before I do something reckless. My heart is pounding with a mix of desire and frustration. I want to talk to her so badly, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against my fingertips.

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