Page 35 of The Sound in Silence

“This mean I gotta respect you now and all that?” He smirks.

I shove my shoulder into his, jostling his half-empty beer. “Like you ever have before.”

“I don’t want the underboss job,” he states, his tone flat and serious.

“I don’t want you to have it. You know what I need of you. Besides, I’ll pick whatever random family member I feel a decent relationship with, and it’ll only be temporary until my own son is old enough to take the position.”

A son…Always a fact, a requirement in my life, but for the first time ever, it hits me exactly why I need one. To bethis. To do what I just did. To become an underboss and eventually, my new position.

Caladin’s punch pulls me back to the present. He grins as he takes a chug from his bottle. “Just got thinking about children, didn’t you? More reason to get home to your wife, no?” His brow lifts, challenging me to argue the fact.

Requiring an heir changes little right now. Ariella’s so new to this world, tome, I don’t want to shove motherhood at her yet. If she’s hardly leaving her room after an entire day, what would another role do to her? It’s not exactly a healthy option at the moment.

I shut my eyes, blocking out the fact I’m already breaking my own vows by placing her happiness before theFamiglia.If Father knew where my thoughts were, he’d be beating on me.

Sebastian messaged me once today and reported Ariella spent the majority of the day using her piano. I hate how pleased that made me.

As though thinking about him sent him some imaginary vibe, he texts again.

Sebastian

She’s in your room for the night. Also, congrats, Boss.

Clearly, the news already got spread to the organization-wide call out, informing all the soldiers of the change in leadership.

Me

Thanks.

I glance up from my phone to the rowdy crowd again, spotting my father right before he ascends a back staircase, leading to the offices above us. Pushing away from the bar, I barely throw a goodbye toward Caladin before I’m slipping through the crowd to follow.

I catch up right as he’s taking a seat behind the desk, and based on his expression as he spots me in the doorway, he’s unsurprised I followed. His hands fold over his stomach as he rocks back, leveling his stare with mine.

“You should be celebrating your promotion with the men. Consider yourself lucky I wish to retire because that role shouldn’t be yours until I die. Especially with your recent decision-making.”

His indirect insult rolls right off me as I step deeper into the office and slam the door shut to ensure no nosy fucker overhears. “Why’d you do it then? Why promote me if you felt I wasn’t up to standards?”

“I have my own reasons,” he replies in a non-answer. This is typical of Father though.

It doesn’t matter when the demand for other facts are greater. “Are you really retiring when you’re having secret meetings with Ursin Volkov?”

He grins but doesn’t reply.

I head to the side of the desk, standing beside him rather than behind it, which forces him to spin to better see me. It’s a power move, which we’re both aware of. As of an hour ago, this desk becamemineand standing on the other side places him at an advantage.

“Vanessa Volkov bombarding me here yesterday changes nothing, Father. I’m already married.”

“I’m well aware of that, son,” he says dryly. “Vanessa simply accompanied her father on his trip to Vegas and then wished to remain behind yesterday to congratulate you on your nuptials.”

Except that conversation didn’t happen at all. Bracing a fist on the desk and one on the back of his chair, I lean closer, towering over him. “Don’t lie, Father. I’ve never evenseenVanessa until the photo you showed me the other day. Very doubtful she’d congratulate a couple she’s never met. Tell me why you’re having meetings with the Russian Bratva. You claimImake stupid decisions, but you’re allowing them on American soil!”

My insult seemingly glides over his thinning hair, and I don’t get a response. Even a flicker of emotion as his gaze remains steady and undisturbed as he replies, “I’m working on a business deal.”

A deal with the Bratva is precarious and can end one of two ways. One of which, being our death. No one here would risk dealing with them because such a high-level agreement would come from the top. From me. Which means, I need to at least be aware of what hell my father’s about to drag this organization through.

“What. Is. The. Deal?” Each word is punched, strained behind gritted teeth.

“You will see soon enough.”

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