Page 90 of Vow of Silence

“I don’t think they’re as much an enemy as you may believe.” His fingertips rap across my dresser.

“I don’t think they are, either.” I search his gaze and find only curiosity and a readiness to act on my behalf. “Papa met with Ignazio nine and a half years ago. The same week, my father ordered me to cut all ties with Benito. With the De Santis family. They were up to something, and given recent events, I think it’s only fair and reasonable that I know.” I sigh. “That I, at least, enter their house as prepared as possible.”

“You want me to find out what they met about?” He seems as surprised as I was to learn of the collusion between my father and Benito’s uncle.

I nod. “I need to know why, after so long, they’ve decided to resurrect this dispute.” I lift my gaze to Dmitry. “Why I was involved.”

He draws a deep breath, jaw firm as he nods. “Da.”

“I need to know if my father knew what would happen and why. I need to know, Dmitry, if I’m no longer safe here.”

THIRTY-TWO

Benito

Well, fuck.I ease the Defender into the assigned parking lot for my building and switch off the engine. You go looking for trouble, and trouble will find you—isn’t that what Petey always said when tasked with rounding us up as unruly youngsters?

I glance at the side mirror, sighing as my uncle’s reflection moves closer. He stops a few feet from the back of my car and slings his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to get out. Coming to my residence was enough of a put-out for the asshole. He’d never allow me to feel somewhat superior by coming all the way to me. No. He’ll wait until I get out and go tohim.

I glance at the glovebox and consider pulling out the pack of smokes stashed inside. I’ve tried fucking hard to shake the habit, even more so since Nastasya came back into my life. But shit, times like this, I could spark one up and easily sit out the fucker behind me. Make him sweat a little.

No time like the present.Now is as good a time as any to discover how much he knows. I gather my keys and phone, breathe deeply, and open the door.

“Come now,” Ignazio drawls when he takes stock of my non-plussed expression. “You knew the job would catch my attention. Is it such a surprise I’m here?”

Not particularly. Just didn’t expect the devil to show so soon; I hadn’t touched a fucking Ouija board yet.

I shrug, sweeping one hand before me to gesture for him to take the floor and explain. What does he want?

Ignazio’s upper lip curls, chin rising a little. “I hated talking to you enough before I took your tongue, but now?” Ignazio shakes his head. “You bore me, nephew.” He nods to my hand. “Do you know how painfully tiresome it is to watch you tap away at that little screen like the pathetic cripple you are?”

If that’s how he wants to play it. I’d rather not waste my time on him anyway. Not yet. I turn and head for the elevator.

The cunt follows.

I place the fob on my keyring to the security panel and glance at him over my shoulder.

He raises his eyebrows.

Fucker isnotstepping foot in my personal space. I’ve kept it clean of his influence for nine fucking years, and I’m not about to sully it now.

I spin to face Ignazio as the elevator car arrives, blocking his entrance when the doors open. Head tilted back, I lift an eyebrow and encourage the fucker to talk. He doesn’t even use a phone to get his words across, and yet, I’m already as bored of his rhetoric as he says he is of mine.

His jaw stiffens, and he fails to conceal his cautious glance around us. “What did they tell you?”

I wriggle my head from side to side.Who?

“You know who I mean, asshole.” Ignazio steps forward, shrinking the space between us to dangerous familiarity. “Got some grand ideas now, have you?”

Perhaps…

“Think you’ll play the hero? Go crying to your papa?” He laughs. “You couldn’t turn him against me. Unlike you, your father holds the bond of family in high esteem. He cares about me, even if he doesn’t understand why. He’d never turn on me because that would mean turning on himself. On what he believes.”

Don’t know why this asshole thinks I need my father to sort his ass out, but okay.

“How’s your mongrel fiancé?”

I send a fist directly into his smug grin.

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