Crimson Vows: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 8

Iweave through the throng of people at the farmers market. The clamor of vendors hawking their produce fades to a hum in the back of my mind. Stalls burst with color, an artist’s palette of earthy greens, fiery reds, and sunny yellows.

A canvas bag swings from my arm, light now, but not for long. I pause at a stall where tomatoes glisten like polished rubies, and I pick one up; its skin is taut and promising. I press gently and the flesh gives just enough—ripe and perfect. Into the bag it goes, followed by its plump siblings.

Next are the herbs. I pinch a leaf of basil, rub it between my fingers, and inhale deeply. It’s fresh and vibrant. A few bunches join the tomatoes. I move on, my steps sure and silent as I add items to my bag for the intimate dinner I will prepare tonight.

My father loved it when I cooked for him. It was something that always came naturally to me. He used to tell me how he wished I would open a restaurant one day, but I have no desire to do such a thing. Cooking is a way for me to unwind from the expectations of my life. My father would have never understood having something that was solely for joy.

Sometimes it creeps up on me. The guilt I carry for what I did to him. I push the thoughts away and try to focus on the task at hand. Each selection I make today is a step closer to tonight. I can’t help wondering how Dante will feel about me. Based on his display at the restaurant earlier today, it’s clear that he views me as a threat of some sort. I’m hoping after tonight, perhaps we can put his concerns to rest.

As I move along, I notice my bag is now heavy. My phone buzzes. I slide it from my pocket, fingers brushing over the screen to reveal Nico’s message. A rush of adrenaline hits me as I read his message.

Nico: Dante confirmed he is coming tonight.

My heart leaps slightly, and a smile plays on my lips.

Nico: Looking forward to seeing you.

Me: Planning to make it worth your while.

I type, the corners of my mouth curling upward as I imagine his reaction. Flirtation is a language that has always come naturally to me.

His following message doesn’t disappoint, with a playful edge to every word.

Nico: I’ll make sure you’re adequately compensated. My cooking isn’t the only skill I’m hoping to get a chance to showcase.

I chuckle, shaking my head. I love that Nico can turn even the simplest conversation into a game of seduction. The more I get to know him, the more I can see we are going to get along better than I imagined.

Me: Your confidence is... intriguing. I guess we shall see if it’s warranted.

Nico: Challenge accepted.

His text is a virtual wink, sending a warm thrill through me.

Me: I’m not sure Dante would like the evening turning into a display of our carnal desires for one another. Perhaps it’s best to keep tonight to dinner and a movie.

Nico: Perhaps... or perhaps all three of us will decide the evening is better spent getting acquainted in all the ways.

A blush creeps up my neck at his boldness. I know the suggestion was probably only made in jest, but the idea of multiple men having their way with me causes an ache deep within.

Me: One can always hope.

I hit send and slip my phone back into my pocket, my mind already racing ahead to the evening. The market fades around me, just background noise to the anticipation curling in my stomach.

A buzz against my thigh pulls me from fantasies of the evening. I tug out my phone, expecting another round with Nico, but the name at the top of the screen sends a different sensation through me.

Marco: Thinking of you, Gia.

My smile blooms as I stand in the center of the market’s commotion. People brush past, none of them knowing that with a few simple words, this man has lit my day.

Me: Is that so?

I type back, still riding the high of playful banter earlier. While I am eager to get to know Nico better, and I will admit I love the way being desired makes me feel, Marco stirs something else. As terrifying as the idea is, I sense he is truthful when he says he cares deeply for me. If I’m honest, I want to be loved by someone, but I don’t think I’m built that way. I always manage to find a way to keep them at arm’s length, even when that isn’t my intention.

The three dots blink, indicating his reply is coming. I wait, the bag growing heavier on my arm.

Marco: I can’t quit thinking about last night... or this morning, for that matter.

I can almost hear his deep and sure, teasing yet sincere voice. A chuckle escapes me, drawing curious glances from passersby. They move on quickly, absorbed in their own worlds, as I tap out my response.

Me: Memorable, for sure.

The message sails into the ether. It’s hard to believe so much has happened in less than twenty-four hours. When Marco picked me up for dinner last night, I hoped for an incredible end to the evening, but between a passion-filled night then brunch with Nico—learning that we were so much more alike than most. My head spins at the whirlwind of emotions and desires that now tug at my heartstrings.

Another text pings on my phone, breaking through the haze of remembrance. I glance down to see Marco’s name flashing on the screen again.

Marco: Do you have any regrets about your decision?

My mind drifts to Marco’s unexpected offer of marriage. His words echo in my thoughts, mingling with the memory of his touch and the intensity of our shared moments. After how he handled Nico’s surprise appearance this morning, I have no doubts accepting his proposal was the right thing to do. The fact he hasn’t asked me about the date with Nico shows he won’t be the possessive type. As much as trust isn’t something that comes easy to me, especially after Vincent’s betrayal, Marco seems to have a way of dismantling my defenses. I type out my reply, a mix of honesty and vulnerability.

Me: No regrets, not a single one.

I hit send.

The confession leaves me feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way I don’t usually allow.

Marco: Looking forward to proving you made the right decision.

His message is wrapped in an invisible embrace that I feel down to my toes.

Me: Promises, promises . . .

I send off one last message before sliding my phone away. Satisfied, I turn my attention back to the evening ahead of me. As I leave the market, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows that dance upon the streets.

As excited as I am to get to know Nico better and hopefully win over Dante, there only seems to be one thing standing in my way. As much as it irks me to say because I swore I would never again be so easily swayed by a man, I can’t seem to fucking get Marco out of my mind.