Christmas Vows with the Devil

19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Gia

The narrow road curves through the snow-covered trees like a ribbon in the night. We’ve been carefully weaving through snowdrifts and icy patches for ages. I steal another glance at Dante.

His shoulders are tense, eyes locked on the road. I note his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel in his battle with the intense wind trying to run us off the road. I squirm in my seat, vibrating in the quiet discomfort that fills our vehicle.

Glancing at the eerie clock lighting up the cabin, I sigh and run my fingers through my hair in frustration. We’ve been driving for at least an hour—in better conditions, we would have arrived already. The soft flurries that began back in town have now escalated to a full-blown snowstorm.

It feels like the universe is thwarting our every move, conspiring against us.

“Careful,” I warn, my voice cracking, pointing out a clump of fallen branches on the road.

“I know, Gia. I have eyes.”

His voice is dark, sharp. I shrink back in my seat, slipping my fingers under my thighs to stop myself from coming apart. He’s tense, I remind myself. We’re both tense.

The anticipation of arriving at the cabin, not knowing what we’ll find, is making both of us snappy. We creep forward in silence, but I can feel him casting sidelong glances at me when he should be looking at the road.

“I’m sorry…”

“Dante, I’m sorry…”

We pause and the tension evaporates. He chuckles, patting my thigh absentmindedly, and I smile, despite the circumstances. The GPS cuts in, ruining the moment and informing us the turn-off is coming up in half a mile.

I lean forward, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of any kind of sign of the turn we need to take. A veil of white surrounds us, with dark pines peeking through on either side of the road. Hell, I can’t even see the road anymore.

Suddenly, a light blinds me, bouncing off the mirrors.

High beams. From behind us.

I swivel in my seat, squinting into the brightness. I can barely make out the shape of a dark SUV trailing us. It’s too close for comfort, and I panic, clutching Dante’s arm, ready to warn him.

“Fuck,” he growls, swerving the car slightly onto the shoulder. The SUV follows closely behind.

“Is he trying to pass us?” I crane my neck, trying to get a better look. “I’m confused.”

Dante glances in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing as the headlights grow closer, the SUV looming inches behind us. Whoever’s driving isn’t slowing down, either.

"Dante..." I whisper, my voice shaky. He speeds up in response and the car struggles to gain traction on the icy road. We’re slipping and sliding across both lanes like figure skaters, gaining speed, but the SUV remains on our tail, mirroring every move.

Finally, Dante swerves onto the opposite shoulder, spewing a string of curses. The SUV rams us from behind, and I scream, clutching the door handle as the car jerks forward. Dante curses under his breath again, yanking the wheel to get back on the road.

The SUV hits us again, harder this time, forcing us further off the road.

“They’re trying to run us off the road!” I shout, panic rising in my chest.

Dante grits his teeth, the muscles in his forearms straining as he fights to keep control. But the road is slick with ice, and we’re already sliding into the ditch.

The SUV slams into us one last time, sending us careening toward the edge of the drop-off along the road. The world spins as we slide off the road, the tires hitting the snowbank hard.

For a second, I can’t breathe. My chest is tight, my heart hammering in my ears. Dante’s hand grips my arm, pulling me back to reality.

“Gia, you okay?” He’s running his hands over me, feeling for broken bones or wounds.

I nod, gasping for air, my hands shaking. “What...what just happened?”

Dante’s already unbuckling his seatbelt, climbing into the terrifying blizzard to scan the road behind us. I hear him curse as I shoot out of the car, stumbling in the knee-deep snow to reach him.

The SUV that hit us is gone, vanishing into the night like a ghost.

“They’re gone, for now,” he mutters, his voice low and dangerous. “We need to move.”

The snow is falling heavier, swirling in the air around us. My body aches, my wrist throbbing from the crash. But I push it aside. We can’t stay where we’re visible, not with assassins looking for us.

Dante guides me toward the dense pines beyond the ditch, his arm steady around my waist as I stumble in the snow. The wind bites at my skin, the cold seeping through my clothes, but it’s the least of my worries right now.

“We need to find shelter,” Dante says, once we’re crouched in the darkness. “That wasn’t an accident.”

I look up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you mean?”

“Whoever we’re dealing with is serious. They want us out of the picture.”

A chill runs down my spine, but it’s not from the cold this time. This is bigger than I thought. This isn’t just about a feud between families. It’s something darker, more dangerous.

Tears start streaming down my face without my consent. I try to dry my eyes quickly, not wanting to make the situation worse, but Dante sees and springs into action.

“There’s a barn up ahead. We’ll wait out the storm there,” he says, already pulling me along the tree line, sticking to the shadows.

I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy to. My legs feel like jelly as we trudge through the snow, the wind howling around us. I keep my eyes down, focusing on each step, on putting one foot in front of the other.

Finally, we reach the barn. It’s old and weathered, but sturdy. Dante pries the door open, and we stumble inside. The warmth of the sheltered space hits me like a wave of fire after the frigid temperatures outdoors.

I collapse onto a pile of hay, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Dante pulls the door shut, blocking out the wind. For a moment, we sit in silence, the sound of the storm raging outside.

“I don’t understand,” I finally break the silence. “Why do they want Matteo?”

Dante doesn’t answer right away. He’s pacing, his mind racing. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He’s always so sure of himself, so in control. But tonight...he’s different.

Vulnerable.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he answers slowly. “I’ve been trying to figure it out the entire time. The only thing I can think of is that they want me…and they know he’s my son.”

The air between us is thick and heavy with unspoken words. My head is still spinning from the crash, my body aching from the cold. And yet, all I can think about is Dante calling Matteo his son.

I rise slowly, brushing the hay off my clothes, and move toward him. He avoids my gaze, keeping his eye on the door of the barn, but I hover closely behind, wrapping my arms around his body.

“Your son?” I prod gently, the words muffled by his jacket.

He sighs, spinning around, taking me into his arms. “Yes, Gia. I can’t deny it. I don’t even know why I bothered in the first place…the kid is clearly mine, right down to his serious thinking face.”

I giggle, picturing Matteo focused on a task, eyebrows drawn, mouth in a grim line—so much like his father. A wave of sadness hits me.

My little boy is out there somewhere, crying for me. And I can’t protect him.

Dante kisses away the first tear as it slides down my cheek. A second one follows, and his lips trail it down to the crook of my neck. I draw myself closer to him, pressing into his body, into the comfort that only Dante can give me.

“Gia?” His voice is soft, nervous even.

I tilt my chin up, my lips meeting his fervently, the decision already made.

He walks me backward toward the hay that is piled in the corner, and we trip and fall into each other, landing in the softness of the sweet-smelling hay. With the temperature plummeting, we decide that keeping our clothes on is the safest bet, but Dante slides his warm hands under my sweater, teasing and pinching my nipples.

I respond by arching into him, begging for more. This doesn’t feel like last time. There’s no fear, no drama, no games. It’s just me and Dante, horny as hell, seeking comfort from each other.

I practically rip his jeans apart, tugging on the button, slipping my hand inside. He’s already hard as I curl my fingers around him, making him moan. I savor the sound of his ragged breathing as I slowly stroke him.

His face is buried in my neck, teasing me with licks and nips. He stills suddenly, pushing up on his elbows to look down at me. I melt as he smiles, looking almost like the boy I left six years ago. But he’s not that boy anymore , I remind myself.

The lines at the corner of his eyes are new, the hardness of his jaw, even the way he carries himself. He’s a man. My man.

“You sure about this right now?”

“Dante, can we please just get this show on the road?” I tell him in frustration, pulling him back down toward me. He chuckles but quickly slips my thermal leggings down enough to slide his hand between my thighs, parting me for him.

He swirls a finger through my slick pussy, and I’m almost embarrassed by how wet I am for him. But when he looks at me with hooded eyes, growling with lust, I know better.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, sliding a finger inside, making me moan. “Always so ready for me.”

“Always,” I echo, squirming and begging for more. He quickly slides his own jeans down, sinking inside me so slowly that I almost growl myself. He laughs at my desperation, amused, and slides out just as slowly.

“Dante, I swear…”

Before I can finish cursing, he thrusts into me—hard. I meet his eyes, a scream escaping my lips, and see not lust, but love.

Dante Manzo is looking at me like he loves me. And fucking me like it’s our last day on Earth.

“You asked for it, baby,” he whispers hoarsely, as he slams into me again.

I know I’m not going to last long. All the tension, stress, and anger of the day melt away as Dante sends my body into another universe. He’s hitting the right spot, and I feel myself soaring higher and higher, my own screams of pleasure drowned out by his moans.

The hay shifts beneath us, sending clouds of dust and specks of dried grass into the air. The walls creak with the howling wind, but all I can hear is Dante, moaning my name.

This is primitive, wild. We’re two caged animals finally shedding the shackles of the past and finding freedom in our future.

One final thrust and I explode all over him, soaking him as my body shakes with pleasure.

Feeling my release, Dante stills, filling me up before collapsing on top of me. We’re both sweaty, panting, our breath creating misty clouds in the cold around us.

Dante kisses me deep and hard, squeezing my hand three times. I love you. I squeeze back. He quickly fixes our clothes and pulls me to lay on his chest, stroking my hair reverently.

“I want to raise my son differently—in a home full of love,” he whispers suddenly, breaking our peaceful silence. “Away from this bullshit.”

“You have that chance now,” I whisper, trailing kisses across his cashmere-covered chest. “Matteo needs you. I need you.”

His eyes, dark and full of conflict, skate across my face. “But I’m not cut out for this, Gia. I don’t know how to be a father. What if I’m just like...”

The scars from his childhood, the weight of the life he’s lived. He’s been carrying it all alone, for so long. And now, he’s standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take.

“You’re not your father,” I say, tenderly stroking his cheek. “You can be better than him. You already are.”

“I need you…” he finally chokes out, clearing his throat. “I need you to teach me how.”

Every inch of my heart fills with love for a man that, despite his insane childhood and even more fucked up adulthood, wants to learn how to raise our little boy. Tears slide down my cheeks as I grip his chin and find his lips again.

Suddenly, the door to the barn slams open, a gust of wind and flurries of snow shooting in. Dante immediately springs into action, shielding me with his body.

But it’s not an enemy standing in the doorway. It’s only the storm, relentless and unforgiving.

Reminding us that we’re still in danger.