Page 9 of Vow of Silence

She takes the drink from my brother and comes close to spilling it when I drop to my haunches behind her and pat down her calves in search of a blade.Nothing. Other than the flinch and rush of breath when I touch her right leg. I peer up at her and then meet Dion's calm stare before lifting her pant leg to reveal the source of her discomfort. The skin is red and torn, rubbed raw from a rough impact; a dressing covers the worst.

"Leave the woman alone, Benito," Ignazio snaps, hungry gaze on her. "She's had a hard night. Isn't that right, mutt?"

"I have." She gulps the alcohol, ignoring his slur towards her. "And yet, despite your best efforts, here I stand."

Uncle Naz chuckles, his hands steepled before his face. He sits with pristine arrogance; one leg crossed over the other while he studies her as though she's an exquisite creature offered for his collection. "You must have hit your head hard, hey?" He stands and crosses over to where she still shakes. "So very confused about the details."

I rise at her back and face off with my fucking uncle.

"Relax, Benito." He laughs sardonically and reaches out to touch her chin. "I'll be gentle with your toy."

Nastasya jerks her head back, colliding with my shoulder. "Don't you dare touch me." Interestingly, she keeps contact with me rather than risk my uncle setting a finger on her face.

Naz backs away with a sigh and crosses to the fireplace. He idly picks at a small bark chip on the hearth before tossing it into the flames. "Tell me, mutt. What reason would we have to kill you?" His dark gaze finds her. "What relevance do you have in this world?"

Stas takes a step away, her eyes briefly finding mine before she carefully navigates her way to a less populated area of the room. "I may not be important—because that is what you infer, is it not? But I certainly have more relevance than my friend." Her throat thickens on the last word. She takes a moment to compose herself, swallowing hard. "Tell me what other reason there would be to shoot an innocent woman in the eye if not to send a message to my father."

"We all have many enemies," Dion offers softly. "Perhaps this is a message from somebody else. Someone who wanted it to appear as though we organized the hit?"

"Are you telling me our enemies now learn our language to confuse our families?" She glares at my level-headed brother.

"I'm telling you that the De Santis name had nothing to do with what happened tonight."

"You'll have to pardon me if I find it hard to believe your word after what I saw." Her fingers flex on the tumbler in her hand.

"We're telling you," Alessio snaps. "That what you think you saw and what actually happened is not the same thing."

For fuck's sake.I drag a hand over my face.

"You think I'd lie about this?" Nastasya hollers. "Lie about it and have my father drag me here to swim amongst the sharks?" She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'd have to be crazy to do that."

Alessio stands and moves until they're face-to-face. "Perhaps you are. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, Nastasya?"

Her brow dives, gaze searching his. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." My shit-stirring little brother turns away. "Your mother was fucked in the head. Perhaps you are, too?"

FIVE

Nastasya

“You motherfucker.” The glass in my hand hits the sideboard with a clatter.

I turn to shove the asshole square in the back but freeze as somebody else beats me to it. In a flash, Benito crosses the room and belts his little brother around the back of the head. The action would be comical if it weren’t for the sickening crack of his hand connecting with Alessio’s skull.

“What the fuck, Benny?” Alessio cups the spot as he turns to scowl at his big brother.

Benito takes a fistful of the guy’s shirt and pulls them face-to-face. Their noses are a mere hair apart, rage equally red-hot in their stares.

“Stop it.” Dion places a hand on each man’s shoulder and pushes them apart. “Alessio, that was out of line. Apologize to our guest.”

Ignazio snorts his disdain at the idea from the mantle. I turn my attention to the oldest De Santis man. He was slated to take the throne from his father, but Don Giovi shocked everyone when he announced his youngest son as his successor six years ago. I don’t know if that played a part in who Ignazio is today, but it would explain why the man is such a goddamn jerk.

“Apologies for raising such a sensitive subject,” Alessio snipes. The fucker doesn’t say sorry for what he inferred. No. Only that he said it out loud.

“I don’t need your apology.” I retrieve the alcohol from the sideboard, Mimi’s advice be damned. “I know who I am, and I know what I saw.” The liquid burns on its descent but thank fuck for being able to feel something—anything.

I honestly believed when Dmitry reached me in the undergrowth that I would never feel again. I stared at Caroline’s sole lifeless eye until I threw up and then found myself caught in a catatonic embrace while I replayed the steps to her demise over and over. I could have done so much differently. I could have saved her if I had only been more prepared.

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