Page 51 of Vow of Silence

He doesn’t so much as twitch a goddamn smile. “You may go outside as long as you stay within the gates.”

“Joy.” I pair the single-word answer with a roll of my eyes. “Whatever will I do with so much freedom?”

“Lana arrives soon. You should wait for her.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Wait? You mean watch my life pass by? Just as I have the last twenty minutes?” I give two shakes of my head, lips pressed into a line. “As swell as our bonding has been so far, I’d like to put our relationship building on pause for now.”

“Men do not appreciate a smart mouth.” There’s no ill intent in his comment; he truly believes he helps by clearing that little factoid up for me.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I wander to the picture window and then tug out my phone.

I’ve managed to put out a few minor fires and reassign my staff to cover the more social aspects of my role via email and Messenger. But there’s only so long I can have them throwing together run-of-the-mill events before my reputation as a premier company suffers. This house arrest shit needs to stop.

I need to be married—now.My hand drops to my side while I take a moment to absorb the obvious: marry Benito, get out of here, and get my freedom back.

There’s no official date until we can decide on the venue—hell, I don’t have a goddamn ring—but from what the De Santis’ said the other night, I’ll be standing at the altar within the month. It’s too long. I lose precious momentum the longer I’m here, the urgency of not only my work but the matter of figuring out who killed Caroline halving with every week that passes.

I’m midway through drafting an email to Papa detailing how I can expedite the wedding to take place within the week when the key piece to the puzzle materializes before my very eyes.

I let the phone hang in my palm while I lean forward a fraction and squint.As though that’ll hide the hulking great vehicle circling the drive.The Land Rover pulls to a stop at the peak of the pretentious arc beside our modest entrance, tinted windows making it impossible to see inside from this distance. I’m surprised the damn guard let him in.

Ivan rises from his seat behind me, heading for the door with quick strides. I clutch the redundant phone and leap across the carpeted floor to beat the juggernaut to the exit. He utters a single grunt when my shoulder collides with his chest, stepping aside to let me barrel out the front entrance first.

My fucking father has beaten us all to it.Where the hell had he been hiding?

“Why is your filthy fiancé here?” Papa mutters out the corner of his mouth when I arrive at his side.

“I don’t know. But I’m certain it’s not to see you.” I glance down at my modest yoga pants and crop T-shirt, a little tainted from this morning’s workout.It’ll have to do.

The driver’s door opens, and my brain and heart hold their collective breath.Amazing.Benito dresses equally as casual in black jeans, an off-white tank, and an open black check shirt over the top. But the disheveled state of his typically styled hair has blood racing to rather specific parts of my anatomy. He looks stupidly dreamy with his pouty lips and soulful eyes.

Made men aren’t dreamy. Not unless you have a penchant for nightmares.

“I don’t recall inviting you to my home,” Papa taunts, attempting to get Benito to speak.

It won’t work.

I launch across the space between us, obsessed with how his attention fixes to me, not my father. Piercing blue eyes follow my steps, Benito’s chin tilting down as I get closer. I pull up before him and reach out to set my palms against his chest without a second thought.

The goddamn man smirks.I’m ruined.

“What are you doing here?”

He places one hand on his chest.Trust me?

“Of course.”

He pats the hand again, eyes widening to implore me to understand.

I frown, hands balling with my frustration at not being able to understand his gestures.

Benito lifts the same hand to my face, palm cupping my cheek before he dots his thumb against my lips. I’m lost in the dangerous sea of his gaze when he leans down and gently steals a kiss with a promise of utmost care.

“Why are you here, Benito?” Papa stresses as he moves from the entrance, Ivan keeping a close eye on him.

I don’t know how much my new protection detail knows, but one look at the notorious killer’s face, and it’s clear Ivan hasn’t a shred of respect for the man I’m set to marry.

“Gennaro didn’t tell me you needed to see Nastasya.” My goddamn father places himself in such a way that Benito is forced to take a step away from me to offer his host the appropriate respect. “Does he know you’re here?” Paranoia peppers Papa’s gaze as he scours the landscape behind Benito.

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