Page 97 of Vow of Silence

“I’m not the monster your father would have you believe.” She fidgets with her clothing in my periphery. “We all do unmentionable things for love and duty.”

Like, shoot a fucking man in the goddamn face.My non-existent breakfast threatens to rise past my throat at the hypocrisy. I swallow the acid back down and lick my surprisingly dry lips. “It was never my father,” I mutter.

She leans a little closer to hear me better. “Pardon?”

“I said it was never my father.” I twist my neck and meet her dark, penetrating gaze. “My mother was the one who warned me about you.”

Brigida’s gaze drops, lips rolling as she leans away again. “What did she say?”

That you’re ruthless with a switchblade. That you smile in the face of death.“That I should be careful not to cross you.”That you killed your sister.

And that she loved you anyway.

She nods, head hung. A smug smile graces her full lips. “Your mother was a wise woman, Nastasya.” Her chin lifts, and she draws a deep breath before adding, “If you break my son’s heart or so much as cause a second of doubt to enter his fragile mind, I swear to our blessed Mary that the next place you lay your head will be in the fucking ground beside your mother’s.”

“He’s his own man, you know.” My heart pounds against the captivity of my ribcage. “He can take care of himself.”

Lips tight, she huffs. “Unless it involves you.” The pure malice in her eyes has me pressing against the door. “Rest assured, where my son is blinded by love, I am not. And when his soft heart forces him to fail, I’ll be the one there to finish the job.”

“My father has spent my whole life ruling me with threats and violence, Brigida.” I damn my shaking voice. “Do not presume you will hold the same power over me.”

“I don’t presume anything other than to know that while your father’s threats have been empty, mine very much hold the promise of fulfillment.”

“I look forward to the day when you try.”

She smiles, the air growing lighter as her body softens, and she returns to the perfectly poised woman who appeared on my doorstep unannounced. “You’ll do fine in this life, Nastasya. That, I’m also sure of.”

Yeah. Like I have so far.

“Are we fucking there yet, or what?”

Her lips kick up on one side. “Almost. After today, you’ll be a new woman, Nastasya. How that impacts this marriage is yet to be determined.”

“Why? Because we’re buying me some clothes?”

“Because I’m opening your eyes to the truth.” Her cockiness fades, gaze softer as she regards me poised beside her. “You need to know what happened ten years ago. And you need to understand why it’s so important that you do.”

“Ten years ago,” I state, fighting to keep the ire from my voice, “I lost the boy I loved because someone thought it fair to steal the words from his mouth.” She stiffens. “Are you about to tell me you know who did it? Because if you are, my first question is, why haven’t you done anything about that?”

Her eyes slice my way, challenging and full of unfulfilled revenge. “You think if I knew, I would have sat back and let the bastard breathe the same air this past decade? You truly don’t know a thing about me or our family if you think we’d let the butcher who mutilated my son get away with such a sin.”

“But you have.” I whisper the words, the small space between us shrinking even further. “You gave up,” I say. “When it became too hard to find who was responsible, you just… quit.”

“I did no such thing,” she hisses.

“Have you asked Benito if that’s how he feels?”

Her chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, lips twitching before she snaps her neck around and stares out the window. “It’s clear your father taught you nothing about resilience. Or acceptance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t question me on such matters.”

“All he’s been is resilient. And all you’ve done is accept that. I don’t see how either one is mutually exclusive or agreeable.” Wetting my lips, I add, “Do you not see what it’s done to him? To feel so cheated of the life he deserved? Insignificant enough that his mutilation was swept under the carpet and forgotten? Forgiven?”

“What would you have me do?” Brigida hollers.

The driver flinches; the car swerves toward the verge before he swiftly corrects our path.

“Would you have me cut out the tongues of every enemy until I found one that fit?” she continues. “Stitch the damn thing into his mouth to fix the damage done?” Her eyes blaze, the air between us heated. “Well?”

A fine sweat pricks across the back of my neck. “I’d have you keep at least one soldier investigating the circumstances until a culprit was found.”

---