Christmas Vows with the Devil

13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Gia

The room is hot and stuffy as I jolt awake. I smile, sinking back into the delicious dream I’ve been unwillingly pulled out of.

Dante’s lips trail my collarbone.

His fingers glide up my leg, nudging my thighs apart. His moans mix with mine in a cacophony of pleasure.

Shit . That dream felt a little too real.

A strong hand lands on my abdomen, pulling me across the silky sheets.

No. No, absolutely not.

Soft snores snap me out of my denial, and I gasp for air, struggling to fill my lungs. I’m in Dante’s bed. His warm arms are wrapped around me, a patchwork of colorful tattoos encircling my pale, naked torso.

So that wasn’t a weirdly hyper-realistic dream, then.

My heart pounds as I slowly unwrap myself from him. I send a silent prayer to anyone willing to listen that he doesn’t wake up and catch me. Thankfully, his snores continue to echo through the room, even though he stirs as I slip out of bed.

I tiptoe across the cool wood floors, picking up haphazardly discarded pieces of clothing, and dress quickly in front of the door. I can’t stop myself from taking one last peek at his beautiful sleeping form.

Wild dark curls frame his peaceful face. The only time Dante looks at peace is when he’s in a deep sleep. Thick eyelashes rest on high cheekbones, which lead to a set of perfectly shaped lips.

Lips that kissed every inch of your body last night.

I force myself to shut the door gently behind me, the click of the latch sounding too loud in the silence. I lean against the smooth wood, my mind a mess.

What the hell just happened?

A mix of emotions whirl inside me. Confusion, guilt, and the ever-present fear cloud my mind, but deep down, I feel a bud of happiness burst forward. I let myself fall into Dante’s arms again. And damn it, I can’t deny that I loved every second of it.

But I can’t afford to feel that way—not with Matteo in the picture. What would Dante do if he found out about Matteo? I can’t let that happen.

I tiptoe down the long hallway, every creak of the floorboards making me flinch. The house is so quiet at this hour, but my thoughts are deafening.

I know I shouldn’t have gone to his room last night. I know I should have said no when he gave me the easy out. I definitely shouldn’t have stayed the night with him. But the pull between us is too strong, like gravity, impossible to fight.

The coolness of the house fades as I step into the kitchen. It’s warm and festive here. The aunts are softly singing along to some Christmas oldies playing on the radio. A few of my uncles sit in a tight group at the breakfast table, sipping coffee and discussing the attack.

The smell of pine from the Christmas tree in the living room reminds me that we’re supposed to be celebrating. But I can’t shake the dark pit of dread forming in my stomach.

The attack, Dante saving us, and last night all have my mind stuck in a constant overthinking loop. I plop down at the island as Aunt Carla thrusts a mug of coffee at me.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” Her voice is too loud, too chipper for this hour.

I fake a smile. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, we’ve got a big day ahead. We need to finish setting up for tonight’s dinner. And don’t even get me started on tomorrow’s festivities. You’ll help, right?”

I nod, even though my head is still spinning. “Of course.”

Aunt Carla sets down the pancake batter and gives me a look. That knowing look. “You look...tired, Gia. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” I lie, averting my eyes. “Just...a lot on my mind.”

“Hmm,” she hums, not convinced. “Is this about our Greek god? I saw the way you two were looking at each other last night.”

“He’s not even Greek.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Please. You think I don’t notice these things? How you’ve been avoiding each other all week, then suddenly...well, you know.” She grins, waggling her eyebrows.

I can feel my face heat up. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, darling, it’s always like that.” Aunt Carla leans in conspiratorially. “But you better figure it out, and soon. This tension isn’t good for anyone—especially not Matteo. Kids notice more than you think.”

I stand abruptly, unable to handle any more of her nosiness. “I need some air.”

“Now?” She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “In this cold?”

“I’ll be back soon,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “Just a short walk.”

I can’t stay here. The walls are closing in, and my thoughts are too loud. I need to get out, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

“We’ll send a search party if you’re not back in twenty minutes,” Aunt Rosa says. “Take a guard with you.”

I slink out of the house, ignoring the order to bring a guard with me, the icy morning air like a punch to the face. It feels good, grounding. A walk would do me good, get the nervous energy out, and allow me to collect my messy thoughts. I head down the steps, but an unexpected warm front has turned all the beautiful snow to dirty grey slush.

Knowing my Converse wouldn’t survive a walk, I double back toward the garage. Maybe a drive instead. I walk into the ten-car garage to a jumble of vehicles belonging to random family members.

Shit, of course my SUV is blocked in all the way in the back. Frustrated, I try to form another plan. My eyes land on my father’s prized possession. A vintage 1969 Mustang, dark blue and polished to perfection. No one touches this car. It’s his baby, and everyone in the family knows it.

But I need it right now. I know I shouldn’t, but I grab the keys from the hook and slip into the driver’s seat. The leather is cold against my skin as I turn the ignition, the engine purring to life.

As I carefully pull out of the driveway, my thoughts drift back to Dante. To last night. The heat of his hands, the way he made me feel like no time had passed between us.

I’m happy in a way. I had missed his touch more than I’ll ever admit to anyone. We might not be kids anymore, we’ve both changed, for better or worse, but that connection—it’s still there, stronger than ever.

Yet, with that happiness comes fear. Dante is dangerous. His world is dangerous. I promised myself that I would protect Matteo from all of it.

What if Dante finds out about Matteo? Will he try to claim him? Take him from me?

My head spins as I head down the winding road toward town. The scenery, as beautiful as it is with white-capped pines and gingerbread-like cottages nestled in snowy fields, does little to calm me down.

I shake my head, trying to focus on the road, but it’s hard. Everything feels blurry, distant. The winding mountain road is slick with slushy ice. I tighten my grip on the wheel.

Deep breaths. Focus on the road.

Suddenly, a deer darts in front of me from a clump of pines on my left. I panic, slamming my foot down on the brakes, knowing I’m going to spin out. But the brakes feel wrong—soft, like they’re giving out.

I press harder, but nothing happens. The car picks up speed, barreling down on the animal. Panic surges through me. I slam my foot on the brake pedal, but it sinks uselessly to the floor.

“No, no, no,” I mutter, jerking the wheel as I try to control the car. The doe makes her escape as I narrowly miss colliding with her. But it’s too late for me. The car skids on the ice, spinning out of control.

I see the edge of the road ahead of me, trees blurring by as the car rushes toward the guardrail. Time slows. My heart pounds like a hammer in my chest.

I’m going to crash. I’m going to die out here.

I brace myself for the impact, gripping the wheel with white knuckles and ducking my head. The car slams into the guardrail with a sickening crunch, metal bending and screeching. My body jerks forward, the seatbelt digging into my chest.

And then I’m flying.

For a moment, everything is silent. I wonder if I’m dead and this is what heaven feels like. Not a second later, the car slams into a snowbank, knocking the air from my lungs.

My head spins as I struggle to breathe, and everything goes white.

***

I slowly come to, the cold of my driver’s seat window pressing against my forehead pushing me out of my daze. Shivering, I lift my head and look around. The world around me is pure white.

What the hell?

I press my forehead to the window again, squinting at the whiteness, and realize I’m inside of a giant snowbank. My wrist throbs as I swipe at a streak of blood on the glass, but I’m alive.

I sit in shock, half processing my situation and half planning my escape. How did this happen? I remember the deer, but I didn’t hit it. Memories slowly filter in, and it hits me that the brakes weren’t working.

Did someone tamper with the car? Was this some kind of attack? Or was my father due to replace a set of faulty brakes on the car?

I can’t shake the feeling of dread as I unbuckle my seatbelt and push open the door. The heavy snow surrounding me stops the door from budging more than an inch. I scramble to try the passenger’s side, but it doesn’t even move.

Kneeling in the passenger’s seat, I take in my surroundings. The entire vehicle is enclosed by a thick layer of snow. No one would even see me from the road unless they were looking.

I’m well and truly fucked.

I lean against the seat, trying to catch my breath. My father’s car. His precious Mustang. Totaled.

Panic sets in as I realize what could’ve happened. Was this a warning? Or something more?

And then it hits me. This wasn’t an accident. Someone wanted me—or more likely, my father—out of the picture.

I take a deep breath, my mind racing. I have to get back. I have to figure out what’s going on. But first, I need to get out of here before whoever did this comes to finish the job.

I root around in my pockets for my phone, only to realize I never grabbed it from the nightstand. Curling up in the seat, I let myself sob for a few minutes to get the fear out of my system.

Then I force myself to open a window and start digging. I have never been a princess who needs saving. I’m getting myself out of this mess.

Someone has it out for my family, and I’m not about to sit here and wait for help that’ll never come. For any of us.