Page 96 of Vow of Silence

Have fun and let her buy whatever she wants for you. It makes her happy. And knowing you’re taken care of makes me happy.

It still doesn’t alleviate my worries. Why today? Why so spur of the moment?

I snatch up my things and descend to the foyer, collecting Ivan on my way out the door. The lack of intervention from my father piques my interest. It’s as though he’s afraid to face Brigida. Avoiding her on purpose. I leave to find a light rain misting the cars waiting in the driveway, dark clouds on the horizon promising a heavier downpour before the afternoon is through. Ivan slips into the chauffeured car behind, leaving me to open my door unassisted and drop in beside Brigida in the lead vehicle.

“It’s a shame it couldn’t be a better day,” she remarks, attention following my hands as I buckle myself in. “But I’m sure we’ll make the most of it.”

The car edges away, gravel crunching beneath the wheels. As we near the road, my gaze catches the gate, specifically the section that has broken away from the main frame. Shame washes over me. Our disarray is out in the open for anyone to see—our slow deterioration of heart and mind.

No wonder the Kuznetsov name needs saving.

“Where are we headed?” My fingers curl over the strap of my bag, resting on my lap.

“A row of boutique shops in one of the villages,” Brigida says softly, her focus out her window. “We’ll spend some money to keep up appearances, but that’s not why I wanted you with me today.”

My stomach knots. I hate unpredictable situations. She said shopping. I can handle that. But not knowing her true intentionleaves my skin hot and my head working overtime to analyze everything I’ve said and done so far.Fucking anxiety.Do I sit next to an ally or an enemy?

“Why did you, then? Want me here that is,” I ask in a small voice.

Brigida rolls her head to face me, a slow smile gracing her lips. “Benito may have hurt you in the past, Nastasya, but rest assured, my son is devoted solely and truly to you now.”

“I know.” The reminder of his betrayal with Lana re-opens freshly healing wounds. “How doyoufeel about that?”

“Benito’s worried about bringing you into the family,” she continues, disregarding my question. “He hasn’t said anything, but I’m his mother: I know my son’s moods.”Well, isn’t she special?Brigida’s gaze drops the length of me. “You need to understand some things before becoming part of his life.Ourlife. The mafioso life.”

“Is your life so different from mine?” We may call our mafia by another name, but at the heart of it, how different can our organized crime family be from theirs? Really?

Brigida smiles, yet it’s placating. Condescending. “It’s obvious you know much less than you should, so yes, it is different.” Her focus returns to the scenery that speeds past the window. “Your father left you out of the business. Your naivety is a liability. Your ignorance is a flaw.”

“Flatter me all at once, why don’t you?”

“I want to teach you the art of manipulation via psychological means.”

“You want to teach me how to play mind games?”

“How to get what you need without admitting what you want,” she clarifies. “A woman’s role is still undervalued in the criminal world, Nastasya.” She sighs. “Many strong female figures have proven time and again why we shouldn’t bedismissed, and yet, men still underestimate our power. Our ability.” She sighs. “Our influence.”

“What if the woman doesn’t want that power?” I muse. “What if the woman simply wants to live life onherterms.”

“Then you learn how to play the game anyway.” She frowns. “Nastasya, you can’t sit on the sideline. You can’t pick and choose what parts of the business you’ll entertain. Whether you want it to or not, this life will continue to come for you because you were born into it. You’realreadytangled in the sticky web. Don’t be the fly. Don’t let them paralyze and consume you.” She rolls her hips to face me. “Be the fucking spider.”

Be the fucking spider.Is that what she is? A deadly black widow, charming and wooing her enemies before she consumes them whole? I side-eye Brigida as she leans forward to give instructions to the driver. At first glance, she appears docile. Trained. A well-bred woman of her so-called mafioso life. But perhaps it’s merely her mask. Much the same as I have mine, Brigida has no doubt crafted a carefully curated version of herself that she knows will please and mollify her enemies.

And her allies.

The stories of her swift and brutal vengeance against those who endanger her family are rich and many, yet I never put much stock into them. As she says, a woman must learn how to manipulate the life to remain within it, and I naturally assumed the tall tales were nothing more than armor—a shield to keep her adversaries distanced. Wary. To create caution when in her presence and to keep her safe.

If anyone can show me how to manipulate others’ perceptions of me, I guess it would be her—the so-called blood rose of the De Santis dynasty.

“If we do this for Benito’s benefit, can I trust you to be completely honest? To show me how you do it?” I raise my chin.

She reclines against her leather seat, head snapping to face me as her brow dives. “Show you how to do what?”

“Create a deadly facade. Make people believe the lie.” I gesture the length of her. At her perfectly pressed clothes and delicately positioned legs. “The lieyoucreated to endure the life.”

Her rich red lips curl at the corners, and she gazes softly out the window, a chuckle barely perceptible. “Oh, sweet girl.” The pity in her gaze when she faces me prickles at the fine hairs on the back of my neck. “There is no lie.”

What I see is what I get. She trulyisthat unforgiving.Damn it.And she’s set to be my fucking mother-in-law. My stomach knots as I stare helplessly at the oblivious people walking along the sidewalk outside the car window. I ride with a ruthless murderer, and the world just carries on as usual. Her continual gaze bores heated holes in my flushed skin.

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