Page 35 of Unspoken Ties

Read it?As I stood there confused, I felt something crumpled and rough in my hand. Slowly unfolding it, I realized it was a piece of paper. The edges were creased and worn from being shoved into a pocket or bag. Suddenly, it all made sense - the stranger had purposely run into me to pass off this message.

Sneaking a quick glance to make sure no one was looking, I unrolled the paper.

There is a traitor in the midst.

Startled, I quickly crumpled the paper and shoved it into my pocket. My heart pounded against my chest like a mad drummer, and it took all my effort not to glance wildly around the room. Was the traitor watching me right now? Was the server who’d passed me the note a friend or foe?

One thing was for sure: I had to tell Ettore. Spinning away from the bathroom and towards Ettore, I walked as quickly as I could without looking odd.

As I weaved through clusters of people, an icy dread clenched my heart. Who could it be? The possibilities were endless in this sea of deception. Each face I passed, each laugh that echoedaround me, felt eerily suspicious now. Could it be Tomaso, whose prodding words from earlier now sounded more sinister?

I finally reached Ettore, who was in the midst of a conversation with the Salvaggio patriarch. Excusing himself, he gently pulled me aside. His eyebrows furrowed at my pale face. “What’s wrong?”

I shifted the note into his hand, not saying anything. Ettore had a better poker face than I did; he looked unfazed as he read it. Despite his lack of reaction, however, I could tell he was concerned.

“Where did you get this?” he asked quietly, already slipping the note into his own pocket.

“From a server,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. “He bumped into me and passed it along.”

His eyes flickered to the swarm of servers bustling about before settling back on me. “Did you recognize him? Could you pick him out again?”

“I was too embarrassed from running into him. I didn’t even realize he handed me something until he was walking away. Probably?”

A subtle grimace passed over Ettore’s face but vanished as quickly as it had come. He glanced around us again, his gaze assessing every detail as if he were looking at the room for the first time.

“Alright,” he said finally, his tone steady. “Don’t panic. Whoever it is, they wouldn’t be insane enough to shoot up a party with all four mafia families.”

“But who could it be…?”

“You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he responded. “Just focus on socializing with everybody.”

“Socializing...” I echoed doubtfully.

Biting my lower lip, my eyes darted around nervously. The laughter and the chatter in the room seemed eerily menacing now. Every gesture, every smile, now held a potential threat. But I nodded at Ettore’s words, biting back the tsunami of questions threatening to spill out.

As I turned to retreat back into the crowd, Ettore’s hand curled around mine. “We’ll get through this,” he reassured me softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my knuckles. Underneath the crystal chandeliers and soothing murmur of conversations, there was something intimate about that single touch. It was as if we were alone in the room, amidst the sea of gowns, tuxedos, and polished shoes.

Ettore didn’t let go of my hand as we rejoined the crowd together. His presence beside me felt like a comforting beacon amidst the turbulent sea of uncertainty. His grip on my hand tightened slightly, subtly anchoring me to him in the chaos. I felt his eyes on me, a silent assurance that he would protect me no matter what.

We joined a group where conversations swirled around tales of business, family anecdotes, and quips about the latest political scandals. Every laugh was louder, every glance more suspicious.

Ettore seemed to be unfazed by it all, carrying himself with the ease of a Don in this game of deception. However, the information hung over my head for the rest of the night like a dark cloud. How would this affect my relationship with Ettore, the man who’d been my rock in this treacherous mafia world?

As I gave another faceless person a fake smile, I tried not to think about it.

Chapter eighteen

Ettore

This wasn’t good. First the kidnapping, now that note. I had no idea how it played into everything, but I knew one thing: I had to do everything within my power to keep Liria safe.

Of course I would do everything within my power to protect her, but if we ended up in another situation where I end up incapacitated, she needed to be able to try to protect herself. She needed to learn how to fight.

I pushed the sofa across the living room, making plenty of space for us to spar in. The wooden floor was smooth and cold, just the right kind of surface for some basic training. I stripped off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves, revealing the fading scars from past encounters.

“Mmm…what’s going on?” Liria walked out from the hallway, still half asleep. I must have woken her up from all the noise I made pushing the furniture around.

My focus shifted from the original goal of teaching her how to fight. Looking at her messed up hair and remnants of smeared makeup, I was transported to the previous night we had hadtogether. She had given me a blow job for the first time, and the memory of it still lingered, still sparked a fire within me.

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