Page 13 of Vow of Silence

“Benito.” He jerks his head toward his office. “We need to talk.”

I cross the room, aware of the grin my youngest brother sports and the frown marring Dion’s face. Ignazio and Petey enter the room to my right, my uncle following me into the heart of this home.

Papa lifts his hand to gesture to Petey. “I need you for this as well.”

“What happened?” Dion stands with arms folded.

“Nothing for you to worry about, son.” Papa jerks his chin. “Go check on your mother for me, yes?” He casts his gaze across Alessio before settling on the soldier at the door. “Once the Kuznetsovs have left, take my youngest son home, Manny.”

The grin flips on the fucker’s face, Alessio’s lips downturned as he’s effectively shut out of family business. I toss the asshole a wink on my way past, earning a snarl in return.

“What was discussed?” Pietro stands to the left of my father’s desk.

Papa watches Ignazio, waiting until my uncle closes the doors behind us before he speaks. “Arseni wanted a promise that our families will stay on the same side.” He trails his fingers across the leather top of his desk before tapping them twice against the surface. “While the Kuznetsovs pose no threat tous should there be a war between our houses, it’s in our best business interests to keep the peace.”

“Cut to the chase,” Uncle Naz snaps. “What did you agree to?”

My father levels his older brother with a warning glare. “I suggested a treaty of sorts.”

“The details?” Petey asks.

Anything of this level needs to be aired with ourconsiglierefirst. As the neutral voice in the room, Pietro has the power to override anything my father suggests should he think it’s not in the organization’s best interest.

“Arseni has only one heir—Nastasya. While times have changed, and we view things more progressively as we once would, you all know as well as I do that having a woman at the head of his table leaves his organization weak.”

“Not our concern, is it?” Naz asks. “It’s better for us if they’re compromised.”

“Is it, though?” Papa leans his shoulders against the wall behind his desk, arms folded. “To maintain the port connection, we need the Irish on-side. By alienating the Russians, the Irish turn further against us. Our only other line in is via the Albanians, but we all know that our relationship with them is volatile depending on what street politics influence the end user.”

“Just say what you mean, Gennaro.” Naz rubs his temples with his middle finger and thumb, echoing my sentiments.

“Nastasya needs a strong partner if she wishes to control the family business.”

My gut knots; there’s only one reason my father would have me here for this.

Papa meets my eye and says, “I suggested a union.”

I feel the heat of Ignazio’s stare without the need to look his way.

“Benito has no chance of heading our family, as much as it pains me to say it.”

I nod at my father’s statement, well aware of the circumstances that prevent me from taking my birthright role at the head of the table.

“But if he were matched with Nastasya, it would solve the Kuznetsov problem and put a key family member at the helm of our adversary’s business.”

“You plan a coup?” Petey asks.

“It’s not a takeover.” Papa lifts his chin. “It’s a strategic safeguarding of our interests.”

I drag a palm over my face. I’m not opposed to being paired with Nastasya—I’d have to be blind and deaf to be immune to her appeal. But there’s history, complications, and so much shit under the bridge that we haven’t voiced in too many years.

It’s not as simple as Papa thinks.

“It’s a wise move,” Petey agrees. “I think it could be beneficial for relations to have one of our own closer to the Irish connections.”

I don’t even have a say in this—that much is clear.

“We already have Alessio learning from me,” Ignazio counters. “Together, we maintain the Irish connection. What do we need this for?”

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