Crimson Vows: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 21

The door slams against the wall with such force it causes a reaction in the room similar to a gunshot. Marco storms in, his jaw clenched tight, eyes ablaze. Dante freezes mid-laugh, the humor draining from his face as he tracks Marco’s strides across the warehouse.

“Marco?” Gia’s voice wavers, a note of fear threading through her confusion.

He doesn’t spare her a glance. His focus is locked on Dante, who stands there, the ghost of his joke still hanging between them.

“What’s so funny?” Marco bellows, the words raw and edged.

“I was just joking around,” he answers apprehensively. I watch, confused by what is unfolding in front of me.

“Yeah?” Marco’s voice is still raised, and his nostrils flared. “Just joking around, huh? Well, go ahead then. I want to hear your joke. Go ahead and tell me.”

Dante shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, it really wasn’t that funny.”

Marco reaches out and grips Dante by the collar, even though Dante towers above him in stature, and pulls him closer. “Tell me the goddamn joke.”

Dante swallows hard, and I can see he is just as surprised by Marco’s behavior. “Um—okay, well... I was just saying that you probably were pretending there was an emergency because you wanted to get us all here so we could go at Gia again.”

Marco’s grip tightens on Dante’s collar, his knuckles white. The tension in the room is suffocating, but I know better than to interject myself into the interaction.

“You think this is a joke?” Marco shouts, moving his face closer to Dante’s.

“I-I swear... I didn’t mean anything. It was just a stupid comment,” Dante stammers.

We all watch in disbelief as Marco releases one hand from Dante, draws it back as he tightens it into a fist, then thrusts forward with all his strength. It connects with Dante’s cheek, and a crack echoes off the walls. Dante staggers back, his hand flying to his face, clearly shocked by what took place. His blue eyes search Marco’s for an explanation but find none.

“Marco!” I shout, finally feeling as if I have no choice but to step in. I place my body between the two men. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Damn, man,” Dante mutters, shaking his head as if to shake lose the blur left behind by the punch. “It was only a fucking joke.”

Gia’s hand covers her mouth, and she steps back, pressing herself against the wall. Her dark eyes are wide, darting from Marco’s rigid back to Dante’s stunned expression.

“Shut up, Dante,” I warn, flashing a look at him before returning my eyes to Marco. I can feel the heat rolling off Marco in waves. “I know that wasn’t because of some joke. Do you care to tell us what the fuck is going on?”

Marco’s head snaps toward me, his eyes like two dark coals.

“I got a visit from Amelia King this morning. It would appear that it got back to her that a plan is being floated around for me to take over for Vincent as head of the family. You can imagine how pissed she was to hear this, considering that would mean I am making a move against her brother.”

“That’s insane. Who would have told her that?” I ask, staring back at Marco.

“She claims one of our captains came to her with the information that someone came to him with,” Marco explains.

I shake my head. “No way. That doesn’t make any sense. There is no way anyone could possibly have known we ever had that discussion.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Marco snaps, his biting tone making his accusations abundantly clear. “It’s a pretty big coincidence that this exact topic has been brought up multiple times within this group, and now suddenly, it’s out in the world.”

“You think one of us is behind this?” Gia gasps. “Why would we do that? We have just as much to lose as you do if what we discussed got out.”

“Well, I don’t know, Gia, but someone clearly has been talking to someone,” Marco insists.

My eyes move through the group until they settle on Dante. His head is low, and he is still clutching his jaw, nursing the blooming bruise. He’s quiet for a change, and as I stare at him, I can see he’s averting his eyes. My stomach sinks as the realization settles over me.

“Tell me you didn’t,” I plead, turning to face my friend. I step closer, the air crackling with tension. Dante’s chest heaves, sweat beading at his temple, and fear reflects back at me in his eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Dante afraid.

“It’s not like that,” he insists. “I swear. I was just talking shit—you know how it is. I wasn’t being serious or anything.”

Marco stalks forward until he stands beside me and asks, “Do you think this is some sort of a game? What? Our lives are only a stupid joke to you?”

Dante shakes his head wildly. “No, I swear. I just... I was hanging out with some of my boys, then Smitty shows up and asks if someone wants to ride along for his routes that day. It wasn’t like that. We were bitching about shit—you know. Smitty isn’t like the other captains. He’s one of us, ya know.”

“Jesus, Dante,” I moan as I realize how royally fucked we all are.

“I thought he’d understand—” Dante continues.

“Smitty?” Marco’s voice slashes through the confession. “You fucking talked to Smitty about this?”

“Yeah, but he knows I wasn’t being serious,” Dante stammers, trying to find footing on crumbling ground. “Plus, I thought if anyone would get it, he would. He has been shit on longer than any of us.”

“You fucking idiot,” Marco roars as he begins to pace. “Smitty is the last guy who would ever turn his back on this family. He stuck by Edward all those years, even though the old man treated him like shit. And now that he’s finally a made man, Vincent made him a captain. You didn’t think for a goddamn second he would feel obligated to repay him?”

Dante flinches, and it’s obvious he’s feeling cornered. “I know, I know, but—”

“Enough.” I interrupt. “Just shut the fuck up while we figure out how to fix your mess.”

Gia steps forward, her voice a quiver in the chaos. “Marco, I’m so sorry,” she pleads, dark eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. “This is all my fault. When I said what I did, I didn’t think—”

“Yeah, none of you stopped to think, did you?” Marco growls. “I warned you. I told all of you where talk like that could land us, but you didn’t listen, did you? Well, I hope you’re all happy because we’re all as good as dead!”

My throat tightens. This isn’t just anger at us; it’s pure, unadulterated fear. Marco is family. He is a blood relative to Vincent, and if he is this concerned about the information Smitty came forward with, it can’t mean anything good for the rest of us. Dante’s face drains of color in response to the weight of Marco’s statement.

My gaze flickers back and forth between them. Dante’s voice trembles slightly. “I can fix this. I’ll talk to Smitty and set things straight. I’ll tell him I didn’t mean any of it, and I was running my mouth because I was in a mood. He’ll understand.”

“Fix it?” Marco laughs. “Who the hell do you think you work for that you actually think you can undo this? Vincent is on a plane right now. Why do you think that is? Let me tell you why. He cut his trip short because he plans to set his house right.”

“Marco, I messed up. I get that.” Dante’s words are hurried, almost breathless. “But I swear I’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

“No, you’re not going to do a fucking thing! Do you hear me?” Marco commands, and his jaw clenches so tight I expect to hear teeth crack. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Panic rises in my gut. “What do we do now?”

“What if we tell Vincent the truth?” Gia asks.

“The truth?” He spits out the words like poison. “And say what, Gia? We didn’t mean it when we discussed plotting to take over the family. We swear, we were kidding.”

“I don’t know,” she cries. “You’re the one who says Vincent’s like a brother to you. Maybe you can reason with him. Tell him it was taken out of context.”

I can see the desperation in Gia’s eyes and how much she wishes she could take back the words she uttered that night. No way could she have known that Dante would do what he did.

Marco stops pacing and faces Gia. “Vincent wouldn’t come back early unless he believed the rumors might be true. It’s clear we aren’t as close as I thought. He’s going to feel like he has to prove a point—to show the world he still has control over this family.”

“But you’re his cousin,” I remind him.

“You’re a fool if you think that matters,” he replies. His shoulders slump slightly, and it’s as if I can see the fight draining out of him.

Gia’s eyes are alight, fierce, and unyielding. “Fine! If we’re all dead anyway, what the fuck does it matter anymore?”

“What?” Marco asks.

“Maybe we go ahead and make a move. If we support you and think you would be a better leader, maybe others will too.”

I flinch, shocked by the words coming out of Gia’s mouth. She’s obviously learned nothing from her father’s mistakes.

Marco pauses and stares at her silently for a moment, and I know he’s thinking the same thought I’m having. “What don’t you get about this, Gia? This is Vincent’s world. We’re just living in it. There is no reality in which I can dethrone him. Got it?”

“Come on, man, she’s just trying to help,” I say in an effort to defuse the situation.

Marco’s gaze shifts from Gia to me, his features hard and unforgiving. “Help?” he scoffs. “There’s no helping. Nothing we can do or say will make Vincent be okay that we even hypothetically discussed taking his seat. And as far as trying to actually make a move against him? That’s suicide. There’s no reality in which we can win against him. Say we manage to turn a couple of captains to our side. It’s clear Amelia’s new family will have Vincent’s back.”

“What are you saying? We can’t sit here and wait for Vincent to get back and pass judgment on all of us,” I argue.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do,” Marco admits, causing the hair on my arms to stand up straight. “I’ve been trying to play out different scenarios in my mind ever since Amelia left, but I can’t see any way Vincent will let us survive this.”

“I’ll tell them it was all me,” Dante announces as he squares his shoulders and puffs out his chest.

Marco looks at Dante, his tone softening slightly in response to the offer. “I appreciate you wanting to fix this, but do you really think Vincent will give a fuck what you say?”

“I’ll tell him none of you had anything to do with it,” Dante argues, desperate to right what he has done.

Marco approaches Dante, and I ready myself in case another punch is thrown. Instead, Marco places a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “I know you wish you could take it all back, but you can’t. Your words will never be enough to erase the suspicions you have planted. You’ve left Vincent with no choice. He has to kill me.”

“You don’t know that,” Gia cries, rushing to Marco’s side and gripping his arm.

Marco looks at Gia, and his anger almost completely disappears. It’s as if the reality of his fate has settled over him, and he accepts it.

Marco sighs. “I do know that because if I were him, it’s what I would do.”

“I don’t believe that,” Gia argues. “You’re a better man than Vincent.”

“Eventually, Smitty will tell someone else. It’s inevitable. And when word spreads that Vincent did nothing when his own cousin threatened his seat, how long do you think it will be before someone else actually makes a move on Vincent? Leaving me alive weakens his position. That’s all there is to it.”

Gia’s voice is barely a whisper. “We can’t just let him—”

“No,” I announce. “We can’t accept this as our fate. I won’t.”

“I’m telling you, I have thought of every possible scenario, and I don’t see a viable option,” Marco replies.

“Amelia,” I answer before I think the idea out fully myself.

“What about her?” Gia asks, hope tingeing the edges of her question.

“She knows her brother better than any of us,” I say.

“What’s your point?” Marco asks.

“Go to her and tell her everything. Explain what happened, that we never actually intended to make a move against Vincent. Tell her all of us were angry and hurt when we figured out what Vincent had done to Gia by letting her believe she was the one who had killed her father. Help her see that we made a mistake, but we are all loyal to her brother.”

“Why? What would be the point of doing that?” Marco asks with a confused expression. “What could she possibly do to fix this?”

Determination shines in my eyes. “You’ve said it before. She’s just like her father. I get that she’s dangerous, but she’s also levelheaded enough to listen to you. If you can convince her this is all a big misunderstanding, maybe she’ll be willing to talk to Vincent on your behalf. Help him see that killing his consigliere after so recently having a captain turn on this wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marco nods slowly. “I don’t know,” he says hoarsely. “Fuck, I guess at this point I can at least try.”

“I want to go with you,” Dante says, guilt etched into every line of his face. “I’ll tell her you were completely against the idea and told me never to say a word about it again.”

“Absolutely not,” Marco snaps. “I don’t want you anywhere near this.”

“I have to do something,” Dante pleads. “This is all my fault.”

I place a hand on Dante’s arm, gaining his attention. “Marco’s right. It’s better if you stay out of it. Amelia is Marco’s cousin. He at least has a slim chance of convincing her.”

Dante nods, but his expression reveals he’s conflicted.

“For now, nobody talks to anyone,” Marco says.

We all agree before we part ways, but the expression on each of our faces says we all know it’s uncertain if any of us will see tomorrow.