Page 73 of The Sound in Silence

Every time we take a pass through the room, I scan for Erico. He’s bound to be back soon. How long could this random meeting possibly be?

Gia eventually leads me toward tables of food and drinks. Without looking toward the staff, she holds out a hand and a waiter, comprehending her silent demand, places a champagne flute into it. She first offers it to me, but I shake my head, earning only a narrowed glare in response. At this point in the night though, haven’t I’ve done enough?

“Very well. We don’t know how well you handle your liquor yet anyway, and the last thing Erico needs is for you to embarrass him in front of his business partners.”

Embarrass him after one champagne flute? Whatever.

Maintaining her glare, I hold out my hand to make a point, and the wide-eyed server slips a glass into my hand too. I despise champagne, learned that at Della’s party, ironically enough. But the tiny sip I allow between barely parted lips is worth the look on her face.

Chin tilting a fraction, nose in the air, she steps around me. “Well, Ariella, this is where I leave you. Erico’s bound to return shortly. It was lovely to formally meet you. We need to get together soon for lunch.”

Sounds horrible.I lift my glass a few inches in a mini toast, telling hersounds greatwith the action.

When she finally walks away, her heels much too loud for my liking, I hand the flute right back to the server. He takes it with a knowing smirk and rests it in the bin of other discarded glasses.

Gia’s barely gone a full minute when someone new approaches. Ericoreallyneeds to return now so we can finish this thing together and get the fuck out of here. The scent of flowers bombards my nose, like someone bottled a garden and doused her body with it.

The woman stops beside me, her head tilted in a way, so she’s looking down on me, despite her only being a few inches taller. Wavy black hair mingles with her dark dress. Her examination of me ends with her arms crossing over her chest, accentuating her curves, which almost look too fake. Her nose hikes like she’s smelled something unpleasant, all while she grins. Not forced, but rather, malicious.

I despise her already.

Erico, where are you?

“Hello. Lovely to meet you. After hearing so much about you, I feel like I practically know you by now.”

Based on her tone, it’s not lovely at all, but more noticeable is the thick, Russian accent.

I force a smile in greeting, looking behind her for escape. She inches to the side, putting herself back in my view.

“It’s quite amazing Erico even married you. Mousy. Don’t see the attraction at all.”

A mix of insults and self-depreciating agreements run through my head, resulting in me just gaping instead, unsure how to respond or act. Still knowing, I need escape though.

“Ah, sorry, I should introduce myself.” Her hand comes out toward me, but I don’t return the shake, only earning a chillier glare from her. “My name is Vanessa Volkov. From the Bratva.”

Another mafia family, I think? If she believes her name will mean something to me, she’s sorely mistaken me for someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.

Another step to the right, another fake smile. Anything to end this odd conversation, but then she continues, her voice like nails on a chalkboard, and it has nothing to do with the loud accent. “Oh, but I skipped over who Ishouldbe. I’m the woman Erico was supposed to marry.”

Those words make me pause because whoisthis woman? I am very aware of who Erico was supposed to marry instead of me. Hell, I lived with her. Was present when Aurora learned of her eventual engagement, and then watched the union go up in flames when she chose her bodyguard, Rosen, instead. Or was Erico engaged to this woman even before the agreement for Aurora’s hand?

Nico would have mentioned that to me…right? And according to Della, the deal for Aurora’s hand was struck a year before she was even returned home. Erico wouldn’t have made such a deal if he was already engaged.

She’s lying.

“At least, I’ll be by his side one day,” she continues in a sing-song voice before abruptly gasping, her hands flying to cover her mouth. It doesn’t hide her evil grin because she knows precisely what she’s done. “Shit. Excuse me. I hadn’t meant to speak out of turn. Well,” she lowers her hands, her malicious smirk expanding slowly, “now that—what’s the saying? Now that the cat’s out of the bag? Yeah, that. At least you’re aware of your future. Of being tossed aside. Where do you think your husband is right now? He’s working out a deal with my father.”

Lies. Fucking lies. That’s not who Erico is. Not what he’d do to me.

For once in my damn life, I hate that my voice is broken. Ihatethat I can’t fight for myself, so all I do is walk away. Teeth smashed together, right back into the crowd, praying anyone will begin talking to me, to save me. Caladin’s the preferred option, but right now, I’ll even take Gia’s bitchiness over what I just experienced.

I open my mouth, practicing what I would tell this Vanessa woman if I could, pretending I’m able to fight for myself when—

Crash!

Metal scraping against metal.

Tires squealing.

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