Chapter 11
– Twenty Minutes Ago
Ireach for the door, the cool metal of the knob familiar beneath my fingers. I pull it open, ready to greet Nico and Dante with a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. The fa?ade drops when I see Marco instead.
“Marco?” My whisper echoes confusion in the dimly lit hallway.
He doesn’t wait for an invitation as his large frame pushes past me, the scent of leather and something darker enveloping the space. His jaw is set, eyes stormy as they meet mine for a fleeting moment before he turns away.
“Marco?” I asked, stunned. “What are you doing here?”
He shakes his head as I follow him into my living room, and the fact that Nico and Dante are set to arrive at any moment is at the forefront of my thoughts.
“I had to see you,” he replies as he begins to pace the length of the rug in front of my fireplace.
“Then you call first,” I remind him firmly.
Marco stops abruptly, his back rigid as he faces me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “You don’t understand.”
“So help me understand.”
“There are things you don’t know,” he grumbles, still pacing and refusing to look at me. I can see his thoughts are weighed down by something heavy.
“You’re not making any sense,” I huff, not shielding him from my frustration. “You’re the one who just showed up at my house being all cryptic. Either come here to say what you have to say or please leave. I have plans.”
With a frustrated growl, Marco finally turns to face me, his eyes burning with an intensity I’ve never seen before. He grabs my shoulders, his grip firm and unyielding, as he speaks through clenched teeth.
“Fuck, Gia, I don’t give a shit about some plans you might have. What I came here with, it’s... it’s going to change everything.”
“Dammit, Marco,” I hiss as I pull away from him. “So fucking tell me already.”
Marco’s gaze softens slightly, and a wave of regret passes over his features. “I don’t know if I should,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know how you’ll react.”
“I’m a big girl. I think I can handle whatever you have to tell me.”
Marco exhales, and his shoulders slump slightly. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash if I tell you.”
“Will you just tell me already,” I snap, my patience wearing thin.
“Vincent... I overheard him having a conversation in his office.” Marco pauses, and I hold my breath as I wait to find out what has him in such a state. “He was talking about something that involves you.”
The air in the room turns thick with tension. “What do you mean?” I scoff, utterly clueless as to why my name would ever again cross the lips of Vincent King. My mind races, thoughts colliding like crashing waves. The idea of the man I thought I loved using me as a pawn in some twisted game makes my face flush hot with anger.
Marco looks at me, his jaw clenching, and I can tell by the look on his face and his resistance that the information is worse than anything I could imagine.
Without thinking about it, I lunge forward, shoving him before I shout, “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
Marco stumbles back, a shocked look on his face in response to my outburst. “Listen to me, Gia. You need to stay calm.”
“Calm?” My bitter laughter has a hysterical edge. “You show up at my house and tell me that your piece-of-shit cousin has the nerve to even utter my name to someone, and you tell me I need to stay calm? Tell. Me. Now.”
The words hang, suspended in the charged stillness. The rage that has ignited in me refuses to be tamed. My breaths come fast, uneven, as the words ricochet around my skull.
Marco steps closer. His hand lifts, hesitates, and then settles on my shoulder with a gentle weight. “He didn’t know I was outside the door, listening to them.”
“Them who?” I ask, allowing Marco to glide his hand comfortingly from my shoulder to my lower back.
“I couldn’t see, but I know I heard Alexei’s and Nikolai’s voices,” he answers.
I blink up at him repeatedly in confusion. “Why would he be discussing me with them?”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Marco sighs before turning and collapsing on the couch. I join him and place a hand on his thigh, hoping to disarm him enough to confide in me.
“What’s happening?”
Marco swallows hard and then sucks in a sharp breath before he continues. “He called them there to tell them something he found out. He knows who was behind the attack when Alexei and his brother were kids.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?”
“Gia, it was your father,” Marco replies flatly.
“What?”
Marco nods. “Apparently, your father told Vincent on the boat that night that he was the one who set the fire. Vincent thinks that’s why Edward made him captain.”
“I mean... that’s pretty fucked up. I knew my dad did some pretty terrible shit in his day, so I can’t really say that I’m all that surprised,” I confess. “I still don’t understand what any of that has to do with me, though.”
“That’s the part I’m scared to tell you about. I’m afraid if I do, revenge will consume you.”
“Revenge? Jesus, Marco. Dancing around it is so much worse. Please, if you care about me like you say you do, tell me. Why was Vincent talking to Alexei about me?”
“Fine.” Marco exhales. “He told them on the night your father died, it wasn’t your shot that killed Anthony. It only incapacitated him.”
I shake my head in confusion.
“Vincent killed your father.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why let me think I did it?” My head feels like it’s spinning.
“I don’t know. Because he’s fucked in the head.” Marco’s voice is heavy with anger. “Maybe he thought it would go over better with the other captains if his own daughter was the one who pulled the trigger. Shit, maybe he was even worried about you coming for revenge if you knew it was him. I don’t know.”
I sit quietly, processing the revelation. “Vincent King has never been afraid of me, that much I can assure you. But maybe he should be.”
“Look at me,” Marco urges, and reluctantly, I do. “This path—the one I know you’re thinking about—is dangerous. For both of us.”
“You know I can’t let him get away with this,” I counter, my voice ragged with the edges of pain and anger.
“Please,” Marco continues, his voice now a thread weaving safety and sanity back into my unraveling thoughts. “You have to let this go.”
I stare at him, my heart a drumbeat of conflicting desires as I wrestle with the darkness clawing its way through my insides. “Let this go? How can you let this go? You said you love me, then you’re going to let him do this to me?”
“Gia, he’s the head of the family now. We can’t move against him. It would be suicide.”
“He needs to pay for what he’s done.” I seethe with a newfound determination. Vincent King had orchestrated a cruel charade that devastated my world, leaving me grasping at the fragments of my shattered reality. “He not only murdered my father and let me think it was my fault, he’s left me practically begging for a chance to run everything my father earned. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were—”
“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare act like I’m anything like him,” Marco says in a commanding voice when suddenly the doorbell’s chime presents a sharp note against the soft cadence of Marco’s voice.
“Who—” Marco grunts, but the words die in his throat.
“I told you I had plans,” I reply as I stand, my head moving back and forth between the door and Marco. “It’s probably Nico and Dante.”
“You were just with Nico this morning,” Marco says as his eyes widen.
“And what’s your point?” I ask, my brows narrowing in his direction.
He shakes his head, ignoring the question. “They can’t know about this.”
I move toward the door, my steps deliberate and purposeful. Marco launches from his place on the couch, and his hand reaches out to stop me. He grips my forearm tightly and pulls me back, spinning me around to face him.
“I’m trusting you with my life here.”
“What?”
“I eavesdropped on a conversation I had no business hearing, then I did the one thing the head of the family would not have wanted me to do. I came straight here and told you about it.” Marco looks torn, his gaze shifting between me and the door as if contemplating his next move. “Gia, please. If you tell them, I’m a dead man.”
“I won’t tell them.”
“Thank you—”
“If you promise me you will help me make sure he pays for what he did to me.” I interject.
There’s a knock on the door now, followed by Nico calling out my name. Marco’s eyes flit to the door, then back to me, his expression pained. He hesitates for a moment before he finally nods.
“I promise,” he whispers hoarsely, releasing my arm as I turn away from him and stride toward the door with purpose. Marco follows.
I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face before swinging the door open. Nico and Dante stand on the other side, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Dante chuckles, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks at us and then at Nico.
“Hey, Gia,” Nico greets me with his usual stoic demeanor.
“Hey, sorry it took me so long. Marco was helping me with something, and I didn’t hear the doorbell,” I explain.
“I bet he was,” Dante whispers under his breath, and I do my best to ignore the remark.
“Oh, it’s fine. No worries,” Nico assures me, extending an arm toward me. In his hand, he holds a bottle. “I brought some wine.”
I take it from him before I gesture for them to enter. “Come in.”
Nico and Dante step into the room, their eyes scanning the suddenly tense space filled with unspoken words.
“I should probably go,” Marco suggests.
“What? No way, man. You’re already here; you should hang out with us,” Nico suggests, and my body tenses.
Marco hesitates momentarily, his gaze flickering between me and the two men who have just walked in. I can sense the unease radiating off him. He tries to excuse himself with a subtle shake of his head, but I intercept his movement.
Despite my frustration with him, I decide it will be easier to keep the grand secret if Marco is there watching me. “Yes, you should stay,” I insist, my voice firm and unwavering.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he answers.
“Don’t be silly,” I retort, linking my arm through his and guiding him into the living room. “The more, the merrier. You can open the wine Nico brought and pour everyone a glass.”
Marco nods and offers a half smile before taking the wine from me and heading to the kitchen. “On it.”
I watch him as he walks away and hope I can trust he’s telling me the truth. If I keep this secret about Vincent’s actions, the lies he has told not just to us but to the other captains, Marco will aid me in making sure Vincent pays for everything he has done.