Page 75 of Vow of Silence

A prenup. He could call it that, but his business mind treats it as an agreement between two associates. A negotiation.

I lift my hands to the prayer position before me and drop my chin toward my mother.

“A favor?” she asks.

I nod.

“Of course. What do you need?”

I gesture to my ring finger, lifting my eyebrows as I tilt my head and shrug.Nastasya doesn’t have an engagement ring.

“You haven’t bought her one yet?” Papa asks.

I shake my head and point to Mama’s ruby-encrusted set before moving one hand to my head to indicate short curls.I want Nonna’s rings.

Papa exchanges a look with Mama, the silent lift of his brow asking if she’s okay with this idea.

My mother nods. “I’ll have them cleaned, but they may need to be resized. I’ll ask Vinny to contact the Kuznetsov house to find her size—keep it a surprise.”

I answer with a gentle nod and then lean down to kiss Mama on the cheek.

I know that to some outsiders, our loyalty to family borders on obsession. We don’t do a single thing without the approval of our elders. Never make a decision without the input of our blood. Independence is a right you earn in retirement.

I lift my hand and point to the ceiling.Is Dion upstairs?

Mama nods. “He said he’d be down for dinner, but I don’t think he has a guest. You should be fine to go see him.”

With another simple nod, I then turn and leave the room. I might not be able to discuss what I discovered today with Papa, but I can sure as fuck run the revelation past my brother.

The one person I trust most in this world.

Rain peppers the roof when I re-enter the foyer; the steady drumbeat a welcome white noise for my busy mind. I set my hand on the cool banister rail and make my way up the grand staircase. I’d slide down this polished fucker as a child, much to Mama’s dismay. She’d fret that I’d fall off at the start, plummet the twelve feet to the floor, and do myself an injury.

If only she knew what would happen to me anyway. If only she knew who did it.

I head left at the landing and give a nod to the maid in the passageway. She pauses in her vacuuming and waits with a bowed head while I walk by. I’ve never liked the way they treat us as royalty. Like gods. We’re nothing of the sort. We’re to be revered to some degree, but we’re also people working to do our best, just as they are. Maybe my business turns a larger profit, but I rely on it for my existence as much as I guarantee she does hers.

Without purpose, what are we? Lost. That’s what.

Been there. Don’t intend to return.

I find Dion reading in his suite on a two-seater lounge near his large windows. The rooms up here were created with permanent residence in mind. Spacious and fitted out with everything a person needs, including a hidden kitchenette. Our parents ensured their heirs would never need to leave the nest. Dion is the only one who stays. For now, anyway. Once Alessio finishes University, he’ll be back to do the same: live under our parents’ roof and their rule.

Be a family man.

I couldn’t do it. After what Ignazio did, I needed that separation if I wanted to keep my mind. Every day I spent inside the walls that reminded me why I’m the way I am slowly ate at my soul until all that remained was simmering anger. An anger I turned inward when there was nobody left to lay it on.

I wouldn’t have survived.

“You’re fucking creepy, you know.” Dion grins, refusing to tear his gaze from the book. “The way you sneak in and just stand there like a fucking ghost.”

Some days, that’s exactly how I feel. Seen by few and heard by none.

“Get what you needed from your visit?” He sets the novel down, facing me in the middle of his suite floor.

I nod. And then shrug.

“Figured if you’re here, there was a complication.” He rises and crosses to the open floor-to-ceiling door that reveals the kitchenette. “Coffee?”

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