Page 114 of The Sound in Silence

Gia chimes, “You’re taking a trip, Ariella, and you won’t be returning. Our son will be able to move on from you in peace.”

Erico

Ariella isn’t in the music room, so I head down the hallway, past the kitchen and toward the doors leading to the pool. I’ve been tucked away a lot longer than I meant to, so she probably got tired of playing and moved onto swimming.

As suspected, she’s reclined on a lounge chair outside, facing away from the door. A large, wide-brimmed sunhat I’ve never seen her wear is perched on her head, her long red hair swept up beneath it, keeping her neck bare.

I stop walking. In all the times I’ve known her, Ariella’sneverworn a hat. Said she prefers her hair free, exactly like her free-spirit.

The closer I approach, the more the red flags rise up the pole.

Something’s wrong. It’s in the slope of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, her skin paler than normal. And the fact that she’s lounging rather than swimming. Ariella’s very rarely outside of the water.

My gun’s in my hand in the next second, the barrel pressing against the hat of the woman I know tonotbe my wife. The click as it’s prepared to shoot seems louder amidst the quiet outdoors, over the thrumming of my beating heart.

“Why are you in my home?” The gun jabs into the back of her head. “Up.”

The woman lifts two pale, slender arms, her palms out in submission. As she stands, she grabs the hat, and lifts it from her head, tossing it onto the lounge chair she abandons. Her wavy hair tumbles down to her waist, black as midnight.

Even before she faces me, Iknowin my gut who’ll be staring back at me. The malicious curve of her mouth, the hardened eyes, the pursing of her lips as she drops her hands to her side and cocks her hip slightly.

Vanessa Volkov.

I readjust the gun until the barrel is directed right at her forehead. “I’ll ask you again: why are you in my home?”

She shrugs slowly and grins, an almost dramatic flair to her paced movements. “Figured I’d check my future mansion out. Quite like the pool.”

“Ten seconds before the bullet finds your brain, Vanessa. Talk.”

She rolls her eyes. “Words, Erico. All words. You wouldn’t harm me and risk a war with the Bratva. We both know you’d lose.”

“You think I fucking care?” I seethe, every word out of her bitchy mouth enticing my mood to go darker and darker. “Where is my wife, Vanessa?”

“You’re looking at her. Well, your future wife, anyway.”

My finger tightens, even though I know I won’t kill her. Not yet. Not while she’s clutching onto the facts I require. “How did you get in my home?”

“Right through the front door. Walked in with your parents after they disposed of your guys. Your wife’s bodyguard is knocked out on the front step.”

My arm falters, my hold weakening. Of fucking course, it was my parents. Father’s visit wasn’t only to convince me to end my marriage; it was a set up. When I didn’t agree, they enacted whatever bullshit plan they created and left Vanessa here. For what precise purpose, I will learn.

I lower the gun only for my hand to snap out and clench the bitch’s throat. For now, she’s valuable because she knows where Ariella is. Vanessa gasps, which I cut off with a tight pinch of my thumb and forefinger, dragging her nearer until she’s uncomfortably close to my chest but able to see the threat of death in my gaze if she plans on double-crossing me.

“You have three fucking seconds to tell me where my wife is or I will strangle you until you’re a corpse at my feet.” My fingers flex with my threat.

“F-fine.” She gasps, her long, red nails scratching pointlessly at my hand. She can mark me up all she wants because they’re doing no harm to my skin. “M-my father.”

I release her with a rough jerk, and she gasps life back into her. Bent over, breathing through her mouth, her hands cupping her throat. She finally glances up, glaring, but with her obviously still alive, I clench her arm and propel her into the direction of the garage.

“We’re going on a drive and youwilltake me to her. You mislead me, you’re dead.”

She stumbles, and without fight, answers, “Nearby airport in Southampton. My father has a plane there. Your parents paid off the owner so no one alerted your men of our arrival.”

“Why?”

“To remove her from your life.”

Her unspoken words are what really hits.They’re going to kill her.I drag Vanessa straight to the garage, punching my thumb into the reader. The whirl of the door opening has never felt so slow, and impatience gnaws at me, energy bouncing on the tips of my toes until the door’s opened enough I’m able to shove us both inside and in the direction of the nearest car.

---