Crimson Vows: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 12

I’m chopping onions, the sting in my eyes not stealing my attention from the tension between Gia and me. She’s across the kitchen, mixing a salad, her movements sharp and guarded.

“Can you pass the pepper?” she says, her voice clipped, as she glances at Nico, who stands nearby.

“Sure,” he says, sliding the shaker down the marble counter.

Focusing on them causes the knife to slip, and I nick my finger. “Dammit,” I mutter.

“Careful,” Nico rumbles before turning back to the stove. His back is a solid wall of muscle as he stirs the sauce in the pan.

“Need help?” Dante asks, walking toward me, flashing a grin.

“It’s nothing,” I grumble, slipping my finger into my mouth and sucking away the tiny drop of blood.

“Let Dante take over, will you?” Gia’s strained voice reveals her obvious annoyance. “The last thing any of us want is your blood all over the onions.”

I shoot Gia a sideways glance. Dante steps in, smoothly taking the knife from my hand with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” He chuckles. Gia’s jaw tightens, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions.

Moving over to the sink, I flip on the water, allowing it to run over my finger. Gia’s gaze lingers on me momentarily before she busies herself to set the table. The clinking of plates and silverware only serves to amplify the lingering tension in the room.

The news I have brought her about Vincent has caused her to turn her anger to me.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, not turning, but his voice has an edge as if he can smell trouble brewing.

“Fine,” Gia and I answer together, too quick, too sharp. A beat passes, and we exchange a glance loaded with unspoken words. “Everything is absolutely fine.”

“Right,” Dante drawls, eyebrow quirking. “You sound fine.”

“Excuse me?” Gia gasps before tossing the salad a little too vigorously, green leaves dancing dangerously close to the bowl’s rim. “Just focus on your own task, okay?”

“Touchy, touchy,” Dante teases.

“Dante,” Nico snaps as he turns to face the group. “We’re here as guests.”

Dante slides the cutting board of chopped onions in front of Gia before raising his hands and apologizing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect to our beautiful hostess. I was hoping you might tell us what is happening with the two of you.”

“Happening? I don’t know what you mean,” I reply.

“Okay, I get Nico is polyamorous.” Dante shoots Nico a quick grin. “But are you all that way?”

“Excuse me?” Gia snorts.

Dante shrugs. “I’m just saying, we show up and it’s clear there is something between the two of you, but you also were on a date with Nico today. It’s not that big a deal. I was just wondering.”

I frown, confused. “Nico is what?”

“Just take care of your finger, babe,” Gia says as she glances over her shoulder.

At some point, I had figured out that Nico liked both men and women, but the poly thing was new for me.

Laughter erupts around the kitchen in response to Gia’s dismissal of my ignorance. Dante studies me for a second before asking, “So if she’s seeing both of you, how many women are you dating?”

Gia’s head snaps in Dante’s direction. “None.”

“Excuse me? You have no idea if I am dating someone else.”

“Are you?” she asks pointedly.

“Well, no, not right now,” I answer honestly.

“And you’re not going to,” she replies.

“What?” The word slips from my mouth, laced with confusion.

“I guess I never told you, but I’ve never done well with sharing.”

“This really isn’t any of our business,” Nico says. “You two really don’t have to have this discussion in front of us.”

“No. No. You brought me here tonight because you said you wanted us all to be friends,” Dante replies, his tone light. “I think we all want to know how Marco feels about sharing Gia even though she isn’t willing to share him.”

I clear my throat, looking at Gia then at the other two men before I answer, “Actually, I’m not sure how I feel since this information is brand new to me.”

Dante deadpans, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh shit!”

“Dude, seriously!” Nico bites out the words.

Dante laughs. “Lighten up. We’re all trying to get to know each other better. If we’re sharing, let’s share. Lay it all out on the table, along with the breadsticks. Am I right?”

“Sharing is caring.” The words slip out of my mouth, coated in venom.

“Or so they say,” Gia answers with just as much bite. “But it’s not for everyone.”

“Cheers to that,” I say, raising my glass as a smile fights its way onto my lips despite the mess of emotions inside me.

Dante claps his hands together, the picture of mischief, as he looks around at all of us. “This is fucking amazing to watch. And hey, if you two are willing to be so open, I guess I can share something too.”

Nico raises an eyebrow, a silent question passing between us before he gestures for Dante to continue. Gia sets down the salad bowl with a curious yet guarded expression.

Dante takes a deep breath as if psyching himself up before he speaks. “I’m trying to take a page out of my boy, Nico’s book and embrace who I am. So you know how Nico here is polyamorous and has been navigating that whole territory? Well, turns out I’ve been exploring some things about myself as well.”

“You figured out you’re a douchebag,” Gia says, and once again, everyone in the room is laughing.

“Touché,” Dante replies before wincing and looking at Nico, adding, “I see why you like her.”

“I told you that she’s pretty great,” Nico confirms, and his words cause something uncomfortable to stir deep inside me.

“But no,” Dante continues. “I already knew I was a douchebag. Jesus, I can’t believe I am getting ready to say this, but Nico seems to think shit like this is freeing, isn’t that right?”

Nico shrugs in response and seems unsure about what Dante is going to say next.

Dante continues. “Nico has recently helped me discover that I’m actually bisexual.”

The room falls silent as everyone looks around at each other.

Dante clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs heavy over us. “Don’t everyone react at once.”

I meet Dante’s gaze, seeing an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. Despite the lighthearted banter and laughter moments ago, this confession reveals a deeper need in him. One I have only recently come to understand. A need for acceptance.

“When you stormed in on my date with Nico this morning at the restaurant, I kind of figured things out,” Gia remarks, and the tension lifts.

“Well, it was a surprise to me,” I admit.

“Kind of like Gia being allowed to date other men, but you aren’t allowed to date other women,” Dante taunts.

“And there’s the douchebag I was talking about,” Gia grunts.

He’s right, though. I have no desire to be with any other woman but Gia, so why does she need to seek companionship with other men? “I’ve asked Gia to marry me,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. I don’t know why I announced it to everyone. I just need it out there.

Dante raises an eyebrow at me, his blue eyes sharp with interest. “This is like a fucking reality show...” Dante takes on a reality TV persona and announces in a snobby-sounding voice, “Welcome everyone to another episode of the kitchen confessionals.”

My jaw twitches, but I’m able to force a tight smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Is it true?” Nico asks, looking at Gia, and I can tell he is surprised.

Before Gia can answer, Dante blurts out, “Fuck that, did you say yes?”

She looks at Nico and then back at me. “I did,” she admits.

“So let me get this straight,” Dante says as we all watch Gia walk over to the noodles boiling on the stovetop. She removes them and drains them into the strainer in the kitchen sink. “You two are engaged. She’s allowed to date other men, but you’re not allowed to date other women? Does that pretty much sum it up?”

“Apparently so,” I mutter, and the tension simmers like the sauce on the stove.

“I didn’t know the two of you were engaged.” Nico interjects, his eyes fixed on me. “If I had, I would have never—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I cut him off. “What Gia and I have is between us, and I fully support her decision about other men. Gia values her freedom, and I respect that. It doesn’t bother me what others might think or say, all I care about is her happiness.” Part of what I said was true. I care about her happiness, but I wonder if anyone else can see I’m unsure about the other men part.

Dante breaks the silence by clapping his hands together once more. “Well, that’s a twist I didn’t see coming!”

“Who would have thought our little dinner gathering would turn into this?” Nico muses. “Why don’t Dante and I start taking the food to the table?” Nico offers, and I seize the moment to pull Gia into the hallway.

“What are you doing?” she asks me with a puzzled expression.

“Other women are off-limits. Really?” I growl.

She shrugs and avoids direct eye contact with me.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve always struggled with sharing when it comes to romantic relationships,” Gia admits, her voice soft but resolute. “It’s just how I am.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even hear yourself?”

“What do you want me to say? You’re the one who came to me with the proposal of a relationship and then marriage. I didn’t ask for this. If it’s too much for you, I understand.”

“You understand?” I repeat, shocked by the casual way she is willing to release me. Perhaps I had been wrong about the connection I thought I felt between us the night before. I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair as I try to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me.

Gia reaches out tentatively, her fingers grazing my arm in a gesture that feels both comforting and heartbreaking. “I really do care about you,” she whispers softly, her eyes pleading with me to understand. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I can tell there is something different about you. I actually believe you when you say you love me, but I made a promise I would never compromise who I am for anyone else ever again.”

I shake my head, feeling a surge of frustration and vulnerability. “Being engaged means commitment, Gia. How can I commit to someone who expects it from me but doesn’t seem willing to commit back?”

Her gaze falters under my intense scrutiny. “So you want out?”

“Dammit, Gia!” I don’t get it, but as much as it hurts, I want her.

“I never lied to you,” she whispers. She’s right. I was the one lying, the one who had told her I could handle the idea of her being with other men.

“Okay,” I reply, trying to soften my clenched jaw.

“Okay what?” she asks, peering up at me.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for her hand, drawing her closer to me. “I don’t want out. I want you,” I confess. “And I’m going to show you how much you mean to me.”

“What does that mean?”

“What Vincent did to you... I’m going to figure out a way to make him answer for it,” I reply, hoping she can see how painful it is for me to choose her over the only family I have ever known.

“Really?” She gasps in disbelief.

I nod. “Give me a little time, and I’ll figure out how to make this all right.”

She meets my gaze, searching for sincerity.

Gia exhales slowly, her hand trembling in mine. “I want to believe you.”

I pull her in even closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. “You are going to be my wife. When I make a promise to you, it’s a vow.”

Gia lifts onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. I wrap my arms around her, and time seems to stand still around us for a heartbeat.

“Come on, you lovebirds.” We both jump when Dante’s voice interrupts the tender moment. “The food is getting cold.”

We pull apart, our cheeks flushed, and share a sheepish smile before returning to join Nico and Dante at the table. The night air carries the scent of the Italian feast we prepared together.

As we settle around the table, passing plates and pouring wine, our interactions have a newfound ease. The tension between Gia and me has lifted, and while I’m not okay with the double standard Gia seems to have for dating outside of our relationship, I am committed to figuring this out.

Nico raises his glass. “To new beginnings and friendships,” he declares, and we all clink our glasses together, the sound echoing through the room.

Dante flashes a mischievous grin. “And to kitchen confessionals. The best damn reality show never made.” That earns a round of laughter from all of us.

“Hey, Nico, sorry if I crowded in on your night with Gia,” I offer, trying my best to show Gia I’m putting in an effort.

“Man, don’t worry about it. We’re all friends, no big deal.”

I shake my head, and as much as I hate being vulnerable, I know how much Gia needs to see it. “I’m not gonna lie; this whole open physical relationship doesn’t come naturally for me, but I’m trying.”

Dante sips his wine, looking over the rim at us. “You ain’t the only one.”

“What?” I ask in confusion.

“Fuck, are you kidding me?” Dante continues. “I just came to terms with the fact that I’m bisexual. Now, the first guy I really like tells me he’s poly. It’s some heavy shit to sort through.”

The tension dissipates, replaced by an understanding that we’re all navigating our complex emotions.

“Complicated creatures, aren’t we?” Nico interjects, trying to sound light as he pours another round of wine.

“Cheers to that.” Dante raises his glass, and we all follow suit.

“Cheers,” I say, and we all drink again. As the evening continues, we enjoy the food we prepared together, and I lose track of the number of bottles of wine we have shared.

Somewhere in the evening, Dante leans close to me, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Marco, can you keep a lid on the bi thing?”

“What?” I ask, the alcohol making the edges of his words a bit fuzzy.

“My mom doesn’t know,” he explains.

His earnestness pins me, starkly contrasting to the playful man I’ve witnessed tonight. He’s vulnerable, trusting me with a piece of himself that’s clearly still tender and exposed.

“Your secret’s locked down,” I assure him quietly, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, man.” The tension eases from his shoulders as he flashes a grateful smile.

As the night wears on, laughter and shared stories weave a bond between us that goes beyond the confines of our Mafia roles. As we finish our meal, wine flows freely, and suddenly, Nico signals for another toast. I’ve lost track of how many reasons we have found during the evening to down another glass.

“To loyalty, trust, and finding our true selves,” Nico declares. We raise our glasses in unison, the clinking sound echoing in the room again.

“It’s my turn,” Gia declares as she finishes her sip. “To good food, good friends... and all the secrets that make us family.”

“Cheers,” we chorus.

“Oh my God!” Dante shouts, and we all jump in response to his booming voice.

“What?” Gia gasps, looking around the room with an alarmed expression.

“I have an idea! Why don’t we play a game of truth or dare?” Perhaps if I were more sober, I would be wise enough never to agree to such a game, but in my current state, I see no reason not to enthusiastically accept the suggestion.

“Who’s first?” Nico inquires.

“Gia is our host, so I say it’s only fair it’s her. Truth or dare?” Dante wiggles his eyebrows comically.

She ponders only a moment. “Truth.”

“Hmm... ever thought of running away from all this craziness?” Dante’s blue eyes are curious, playful, and probing.

“Every day,” Gia admits, and we exchange a look that says we understand without needing words.

“Oh, ’cause your dad and what happened to him.” All of our mouths fall open in response to Dante’s question.

Gia’s expression darkens, her eyes flashing with pain and anger. “Yes, Dante. Because of my father and everything that happened to him. Running away has crossed my mind more times than I can count.”

Dante’s playful demeanor falters, replaced by genuine remorse for accidentally reopening the still raw wounds.

Nico breaks the tense moment by clearing his throat. “Alright, enough seriousness for tonight. Let’s lighten things up a bit.” He turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Marco, your turn. Truth or dare?”

I take a moment to consider, realizing this game might reveal more than we bargained for. But I push aside my hesitation; we’ve already laid so much bare tonight. “Truth,” I decide firmly.

Nico leans back, his gaze thoughtful. “Alright, spill it. What’s the biggest risk you’ve ever taken?”

I pause, the alcohol’s effects causing my brain to swirl a bit in my head. Finally, I draw a deep breath and speak, each word measured. “The biggest risk I’ve ever taken. I guess it was the night we went to save Eva.” The moment the words leave my mouth, even in my drunken state, I wish I could swallow them back. While going on Anthony’s boat that night was the riskiest thing I had ever done, it was the last thing in the world that Gia needed to be reminded of.

Her gaze darts to mine, her expression a mix of surprise and hurt. My answer casts a shadow over our lighthearted game. I can see the turmoil brewing behind her eyes.

Before she can respond, Dante interjects, “Maybe we should stick to lighter questions in the future, Nico. It’s your turn, man. Truth or dare?”

I’m thankful for Dante’s quick thinking when I see Gia’s features relax slightly as she shakes off the weight of my revelation.

Nico grins deviously, clearly relishing the opportunity to spice things up. “Dare,” he announces, looking around at the three of us.

“I dare you to...” Dante has an impish gleam in his eyes. “Perform your best dance moves to whatever song Marco picks.”

Nico’s eyes widen in mock horror as he looks at me, silently pleading for a merciful choice of music. I consider for a moment before settling on a sultry Italian tune that promises to be entertaining and embarrassing. I flip to it on my phone before pressing play.

As the music fills the room, Nico rises from his seat, his movements surprisingly fluid and coordinated. He spins and twirls with exaggerated flair, much to our amusement. Gia’s laughter rings out, a melody that lightens the atmosphere and eases the tension from my earlier confession.

Nico finishes his impromptu performance by thrusting his pelvis in each of our faces and then bowing theatrically amid our cheers and applause.

“I have a toast,” I announce at the end of the performance. Everyone at the table eagerly fills their glasses before looking at me. “Family comes in unexpected forms,” I toast, lifting my glass. And tonight, I think I may have found mine.”

“To family,” they echo, and we drink yet again.