Page 109 of Vow of Silence

A shiver works its way down my spine.The safe house.I glance at my phone to ensure it’s still recording.

“Told me if I didn’t cut the shit, he’d make me regret flipping on the deal. I told the asshole he flipped first when he lied about his ascension. He yelled curses at me, but I never thought.” Arseni pauses, swallowing audibly. “My fucking wife,” he laments. “I didn’t take the fucker seriously, and he took my wife.”

My father crosses the room, lowering himself gently into the seat adjacent to Arseni. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry for her loss, friend. I truly am.”

Thepakhanstiffens, drawing his head back and firming his jaw. “It means something, Gennaro. Thank you.”

Papa looks toward Manny. “You heard all this.”

Our soldier nods.

“I need you to call the school. Bring Alessio home until we’re assured things are stable.”

Manny nods again.

“All we have to go on is the word of two men,” Petey warns. “The council will require more.”

Evidence.Everything is about evidence for Pietro. Arseni’s laid it all out before him, but the adjudicator in him requires undeniable proof that what thepakhansays is true before he takes it to the heads of the families. The accusation against Ignazio is serious. Fucking serious. We have a motive, a method, and a suspect.

But it’s all hearsay.

The evidence of his guilt lies within my fucking mouth.Or doesn’t.He took my goddamn tongue becauseIwas the reason Arseni knew he’d never be don.Iwas the reason his fucking scam fell through.

I’m the one with undeniable proof.Now is the time.

“We need to agree on how we’ll manage him in the meantime,” Petey states as Manny slips from the room. “Gathering what we need could take weeks. Months, maybe. And Ignazio will remain a liability throughout.”

“I know.” My father leans forward in his seat, head hung between his shoulders.

“Does he know?”

Petey frowns at thepakhan’s question.

“Does he know that we know?” Arseni clarifies.

I cross the room, drawing my father’s attention when I grab a chair and drag it closer to his. “What are you doing?”

I settle on the edge of the seat and set my phone on my knee.

Papa watches me with a small peak to his brow, his eyes—so fucking pained as he turns his wedding band around and around on his finger. A small tell. I commit him to memory. This moment. The last vestige of innocence the man has when it comes to trust and love for his family.

“Benito?” Petey leans forward in his seat.

Arseni watches on with stoic indifference. As though he suspects what comes next. As though maybe he knows.

I swipe up to wake the screen and then put the volume all the way up before I press play.

My uncle’s voice fills the room.

Pietro rises from his seat to stand closer.

My father stares at the phone at first, his brow stern as Ignazio’s voice fills the silence between us. My heart quickens when the familiar words progress, adrenalin flushing my veins with anticipation. I daren’t blink. Don’t breathe too heavily in case I distract myself and miss it.There.That fucking look right goddamn there.

My father’s eyes lift to mine as he slowly leans back in his seat.

Arseni bows his head.

Pietro leans across me to tap at the phone twice, rewinding thirty seconds to hear it again. Seven times in total, he plays the moment Ignazio admitted to cutting out my tongue.

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