Crimson Vows: A Dark Mafia Romance

Chapter 25

Igrab the bag containing the contents from the safety deposit box and move swiftly into my home. Much to my surprise, cash was not the only thing I found when I opened the box. Inside were pictures of my mother and letters between her and my father over the years, I assume when my father was away on business.

My mother was my father’s moral compass. Her illness hit him hard, and after she passed away, a part of him seemed to disappear little by little. Occasionally, I would see glimmers of the man he used to be, but he’d hardened, even toward me.

I jump when the phone’s shrill ring slices through the silence. Looking at the phone, I don’t see Marco’s name on the screen, and disappointment settles over me. My worry for him has consumed me since we parted. I swipe my finger across the face of the phone, holding it up to my ear, and whisper, “Nico?”

“Hey Gia, so weird question. Any chance you’ve heard from Dante?” His voice is edged with panic.

“Dante? No, I haven’t spoken to him since the warehouse,” I answer. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Dammit,” Nico curses. “We got into it, and he took off.”

I climb the stairs to my bedroom and retrieve a suitcase from my closet. “What do you mean you got into it?”

The line is quiet momentarily as I retrieve items from my closet and shove them into the bag. “Nico?” I say, attempting to confirm he’s still on the line.

“Sorry,” he answers. “I can’t think straight. I should have never let him leave. He blames himself for all of this. He was a wreck, and I let him walk out of here.”

“He has to know we all understand he was only trying to make things better,” I reply.

“That’s what I was trying to explain to Marco!” he exclaims. “He wouldn’t even listen to me.”

“What do you mean Marco?”

“I called him before I called you,” he explains. “When I told him about Dante, it was like he didn’t give a fuck that I can’t find him. Gia, I’m really worried Dante could do something stupid.”

I stiffen at the thought of Marco being so dismissive about Dante being upset. I understand he’s angry about our situation, but a lot of this is because of Vincent. He lied to all of us about my father, and his leadership has people questioning him. Dante may have been careless with his words, but at least his actions came from doing what was best for those he cared about.

“You think he’s in trouble?” I ask, pausing for a response before I continue packing.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I have never seen him like that. I’m worried he’s going to do something rash. Maybe even hurt himself.”

“You really think he would do that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I never would have thought that before, but now... he was so upset, I don’t know what to think.” Nico’s answer brings me no relief. “All I know is I need to find him.”

“Okay,” I begin, trying to devise a plan. “I’m almost done packing right now, and as soon as I finish, I can help look for him. Is there anywhere you can think he might have gone?”

“Packing?” The question tumbles out, and I realize how this must look to Nico. He’ll think we were planning to abandon them when the truth is as far from that as imaginable.

I exhale, considering how best to explain. “Yeah, I was going to call you and Dante after I heard from Marco. He’s supposed to call me after he meets with Amelia. If things seem to be going south, the plan is we just leave.”

“Leave where?”

“We don’t know. We honestly didn’t get that far. We just need to get as far from New York as possible, then we’ll figure things out from there,” I explain. We want you and Dante to come with us, of course.”

“Funny, Marco didn’t mention this when I spoke to him.” I can hear the suspicion in Nico’s voice.

“He’s putting all his hopes on Amelia right now. I’m sure he didn’t want to alarm you,” I assure him.

“Were you planning to leave us?” His words are direct and cutting.

“No! I told you I was about to call and tell you.”

“Do you understand what they would do to me and Dante if you and Marco left?” he asks, and I can hear the doubt in his question.

“That’s why we would never do that,” I assure him. “Why would I have told you about it if you coming with us was never part of our plan? Think about it! I stopped my father from killing you. Why would I do that only to abandon you?”

I can hear only his breathing on the line.

“I’d never forgive myself,” I admit, hoping he will sense the truth in my words. “I couldn’t live with myself if I left you to face the fallout. Marco couldn’t either; you know that.”

A pause crackles through the line. Then Nico says, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I doubted either of you. This shit with Dante has me so fucked up. I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’ve got you. I won’t ever let Vincent lay a finger on you. I promise.”

“I wish I would have never said anything that night. I feel like I was the one who planted the idea in Dante’s head in the first place,” I confess. “I was just so pissed, but I should have known, especially after my father.”

“Gia,” he says. “This isn’t about taking blame. It’s about survival. We have to look out for each other. Besides, the debt I owe you—”

“Stop.” The single word is a command. “You don’t owe me anything. I saved you because it was the right thing to do.”

“And that’s why you will always have my loyalty.” His oath is pure and genuine, and it brings a little comfort in the chaos of the moment.

“Thank you,” I answer before my thoughts return to his call’s original reason. “Dante. Is there anywhere you can think he would have gone?”

“I don’t know; he doesn’t hang out with his crew as much these days, but I guess there’s a chance he could have gone to see one of them,” Nico replies.

“Okay, I’ll finish up here, then try to call him,” I offer.

“I’ve been trying since he left. He’s not answering.”

“Maybe because you two had a huge fight, and he sees it’s you calling,” I suggest. “If he sees it’s me, who knows.”

“Fine,” Nico replies. “Call me if you hear anything from him. Okay?”

“Absolutely, I promise,” I say before ending the call, and I’m left alone. Nico will find Dante. He has to.

Taking a deep breath, I calm my nerves and text Dante.

Me: Where are you? You have everyone worried sick. Quit being an asshole and call us back so we know you’re okay.

After hitting send, I return to the task of packing. I was trying to wrap my head around a relationship with Marco, and now, suddenly, I find myself in a situation where I am packing a bag in case we are forced to run together.

My entire identity is that of Anthony Casaletto’s daughter, born and raised in the Mafia. The world he had always been so desperate to carve a piece from turned on him, and now it appeared it would do the same to me. Where can I go? Is Marco right when he says hiding from them will be impossible? Is all of this pointless? Am I destined to end up like my father?