Page 7 of The Sound in Silence

Even in his grip, my nod feels weak.

“There was no coercion on his part then?”

No,I mouth, with a slight head shake.

“So what made you of all people volunteer to marry me?”

Erico

There’s no room for oversight in my position. Everything is black and white. Roles understood. Performances expected.

Witnessing my parents’ relationship gave me the outline of what mine will be. Two people who co-exist, eventually have a child to continue the bloodline, and that’s all. There’s normality in this kind of connection. The lack of deep feelings mean theFamigliawill always come first. A future I expected to put into motion with Aurora, who, after meeting her at the engagement party, I knew would be the ideal woman for my needs. Having no interest in her, we could very easily recreate what my parents have. Emotionless, each of us playing our part. We’d live separately, save for the occasional visit home.

The unexpected variable washer.

The redhead that makes my head want to explode and my hands to explore. The silent woman—traumatized, according to Nico—with zero stake in mob politics. Yet, here we are, discussing our union, leaving me tongue-tied and without words as I planned on outlining her future. My thumb strokes her cheek, fascinated as her skin grows a deeper shade with her blush.

She shrugs to respond to my question about why she volunteered herself. A part of me feels cautious, as to whyher. What game is going on that I’m unaware of? While the other part of me is simply curious as to why she did this. What’s in her mind that led to this?

“You have so little stake in your sister’s new family, so I was surprised when Nico said you were making this sacrifice.” Another shrug in response and I finally drop my hands back to my sides, releasing the skin I could very well grow addicted to touching. “All right then. My position keeps me busy, which I assume you’re aware of. This means, you’ll be on your own frequently. I’ll be living in the city, at my Manhattan condo, and you’ll be staying at the Rossi mansion in the Hamptons. A bodyguard will be assigned to you for protection. Understand?”

She nods, her expression blank and devoid of what’s in her head. Surely as I recite facts, regret must be creeping up? This can’t be the life she desires.

“Eventually, I will need an heir and we will work through that. I’m sure you understand, Ariella, you and I will not be like your sister and Nico.”

Romance is too much work. A relationship is simply unfathomable to consider when working in New York’s crime district. Relationships demand equality and sharing stories with one’s partner, but any woman who’s privy to what I do, knows better to ask, and anyone who isn’t, shouldn’t be knowing.

Again, she bobs her head, her expression remaining unbothered. While her agreement is positive for my needs, it pains me to see her falling so easily, so quickly into it. No fight, no spark…it almost doesn’t match the gentle flame buried in her azure eyes.

“One more thing: your medical needs. We’ll get your file transferred to theFamigliadoctor and any support, any therapy, can be decided between you and him.”

For once, she actually does something. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone, her fingers rapidly flying over the screen before she turns it toward me to read what she typed out.

No more counselling. I’m over people trying to fix me. Please.

I smile. Maybe it’s her tenacity; the clear determination in her plea. Even if I don’t know what she sounds like, I can almost predict the way she’d verbally say that. Throaty and smooth, with a final plea tacked on almost like she didn’t want to add it at all.

“Sure thing, Ariella.”

Before she has the chance to put away her phone, I yank it from her hands, holding it away so she knows not to bother fighting me for it. I scroll through her apps until finding her contacts and add a new entry with my name and number before giving it back.

“If you need to contact me between now and the wedding, you now have my number to do so. Anytime. Call or text.” It’s doubtful she will.

The corners of her mouth pull up into a slight grin that seems entirely forced, and I vow right then and there, one day, I’ll work for a genuine smile. Not sure why I want it, but I do.

“Do you have any questions?”

An expectant head shake that makes her red hair fly. A stream of sunlight from the window behind us catches on the colour, highlighting her face, making her look younger.

“How old are you?” I demand, suddenly aware of the unknown fact.

Her left hand raises with two fingers held up and her right with one. Twenty-one.

Christ.“Ten years younger than me.” A few years past high school, a sister wrapped up in mob life, a mother deceased from a car accident, and soon to be shackled to a man a decade older than her when she’s hardly experienced life. This isn’t different than marrying Aurora, who’s the same age as Ariella, but it feels likemore. Like a tightness in my chest from the guilt is telling me it’s different. Aurora was bred into this life. With Ariella, I sympathize.

“Well,” I break my stare with her and manage to walk around her, heading for the door, “I’ll speak with Nico about finalizing a few details, including a date, and then…” I stop, tongue dabbing at my dry lips. I don’t recall the last time someone’s made me feel as uncertain as I do now. Not nervous, but still a sense like I’m about to trip. “Then I suppose I’ll see you at the wedding.”

I take a step but not toward the door, in the direction I was initially headed. Instead, it’s back toward her. I’m close enough to catch the flicker of emotion—of heartbreak—before it’s gone. So quick I believe I imagined it as I finally turn away.

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