Page 59 of Dark Mafia Vows

The murmurs around us grow louder, uncertainty flashing in the eyes of her colleagues as they exchange uneasy glances. But I don’t care about their whispers—I’m still seething, my anger rolling in waves beneath the surface.

I raise my voice, letting it boom across the store with authority. “I’ll be buying out your entire dress collection. Every. Last. Dress.”

A collective gasp sweeps through the staff, their stunned reactions palpable in the thickening air. Disbelief spreads like a ripple, but I ignore it, my gaze locking onto Ginny.

Her eyes meet mine, wide with concern and something else—a flicker of uncertainty, maybe? Her voice, barely a whisper, reaches me. “Dario. This is...a lot.”

I step closer, taking her hand in mine, feeling her warmth ground me. I give it a firm, reassuring squeeze. “No one will ever disrespect you, Ginny. Not while I’m here.”

My words come out like a vow, unshakable and fierce. I feel the possessiveness rise in me, sharp and undeniable. “You are mine now,” I murmur, leaning in, my voice dropping lower. “Mine to protect, mine to worship.”

I see the effect it has on her—the hitch in her breath, the way her lips part ever so slightly as I close the distance. My gaze darkens, focused entirely on her as I utter the final word.

“Mine.”

25

GINEVRA

The car ride home stretches in silence, thick with unspoken words. Soft music plays from the speakers, yet it does nothing to calm my racing heart. My throat feels heavy with unspoken words, and I struggle to control my heavy breathing.

My fingers press a button on the window, making the tinted glass slide down. A gentle breeze blows over my face as the car drives down the familiar road, but it does nothing to make me feel better.

We both sit silently at the backseat of Dario’s Lamborghini, and I can feel the heat of Dario’s anger simmering beside me, still charged from what happened at the boutique. It’s not directed at me, but it still makes my stomach churn with anxiety...

And something else.

There’s a strange comfort in knowing he’s upset on my behalf. I can’t quite grasp why that makes my heart flutter, but it does.

Dario hasn’t said a word for several minutes, only shifting his attention between his phone screen and the bottle of water inthe cup holder beside him. My fingers twitch on my lap as I look outside, trying to ignore his presence beside me.

The tall buildings and bustling city streets blur past the car window as we drive past them, the mid-afternoon sun casting long shadows across the road.

But after a long minute, I steal a glance at him. His jaw is set tight, and his eyes are now fixed on the road. Part of me wants to thank him, to say something...anything, but the words are stuck in my throat. We sit in the silence that is wrapped around us like a heavy cloak, heavy and awkward.

I look outside the window again as we approach the familiar, quiet, luxurious neighborhood of Dario’s house. When we get married, it’ll become my house, too, whether I like it or not. When I think of home, his large duplex is what will appear in my head.

The almost identical houses, large and extravagant, with their immaculately groomed lawns, blur past my eyes. The car slows down as we approach the gates of Dario’s house. Most houses here don’t have gates, but it doesn’t shock me that Dario is private to that degree.

The gates are opened by the security guards, and we slowly pull in. When we finally pull into the driveway, the air feels electric, charged with awkwardness and a mix of something new and uncertain.

The car engine stops, and I push the car door open almost immediately. The bright sun hits my skin as I step down and head toward the front door with Dario’s heavy footsteps behind me.

The tension floats in the air between us. I climb up the stairs with him right on my tail. I feel the heat of his stare warming my body, and a strong sense of Deja vu hits me. When I get to my bedroom door, I notice he’s stopped and is now watching me.

I don’t turn to look at him, scared of what I’ll do if I saw his face.

“Um...I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. Later.” I hear his gruff response behind me as I twist the doorknob and enter the walls of my room, the only place I’m safe from his heated looks and the intensity of his presence.

But not safe from thoughts of him. I’m never safe from that.

It’s a weekend, and Rosa had told me earlier that Dario was taking this particular weekend off. It’s not supposed to be a strange thing, but Dario works every single day. It’s something I hope will change as time goes on.

Once inside my room, I feel an overwhelming urge to cool down. I head toward the bathroom and turn on the shower knob, letting the water warm up while I strip off my clothes.

The steam fills the bathroom, wrapping around me like a comforting cocoon. Except it’s not comforting. It reminds me of every heated touch and kiss I’ve shared with Dario.

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