Page 10 of The Sound in Silence

My eyes go to the end. Towho’sat the end.

When Della walked down the aisle, Nico’s entire focus was on her. His love for her, his weakness apparent. No one in attendance could question their feelings for one another.

That’s nothing like the look Erico is giving me.

Appreciation, sure, as his gaze travels the length of me. He settles on my hair for a beat longer than the rest, and I long to touch it, to shield it from his probing examination.

Checking out his purchase.

Instead, I study the people in attendance as they form an aisle, urging me from one end to my fiancé’s side. Rozelyn and Flynn are closest to me. Flynn only watches on and Rozelyn manages a half-smile before glancing at her feet, the relationship between her and everyone else still strained. Beside them, Rosen bobs his head and Aurora’s guilt is unhidden. A pinched expression as she mouths,I’m sorry,for what’s likely the millionth time.

To my right is Caterina and Lorenzo. Lorenzo tips his head in respect as I pass, but it’s Caterina’s tight expression that holds my attention. Similar to that of her daughter, she glances away from me toward Erico, her glare apparent. Beside them, Rafael’s usual smirk is watered down, and Isabelle, who I barely know, simply observes.

Closest to the front is Nico, and he’s who gains much of my attention. His head dip is even deeper than Lorenzo’s, his expression a mixture of the respect of his parents and the apology of his sister.

Della’s at the front, beside the minister, standing as my only bridesmaid and one of the witnesses. She’s not hiding her sour expression at all, and for a moment, I feel like laughing, if only my face muscles were working still.

To the right of the minister and Erico is another man. His dark hair is messy, like he’s just rolled out of bed. He’s expressionless, almost bored, rocking lightly on his feet. That must be Erico’s cousin that Della had mentioned.

And finally, I look at the reason behind this entire façade. Erico’s gaze still remains flat, but I search for something. Appreciation, guilt—any emotion indicating who I’m about to wed.

I’m by his side much too soon, and take my place between Erico and Della, each representing a time in my life—the past and the future. Giving my back to Della is like literally turning away from my past, but we both know that’s exactly what’s happening. I’ll no longer be Ariella Lambert, the quiet daughter, the silent sister, the shadow. I’ll be dragged from my darkness to be Ariella—

My thoughts cut off. Even saying it in my head is unsettling. Ariella Rossi.

In mere minutes,thatwill be my new identity. Wife. American.

I’ll no longer be able to exist in the background because I’ll be to Erico what Della is to Nico. A mob boss’s wife.

My thoughts create a tornado of emotion inside me that I can’t breathe through, or escape. My standard gloom is always present and never evading, but it’s matched with a feeling of…of concern for my future?

A gentle touch breaks through the thoughts. Erico’s fingers brush the back of my hand as his head tilts a fraction in question. His brows follow, and I curse myself for allowing my walls to lower and emotions to spill out for anyone to see.

They’re my protection. They’re how I was able to go undetected at the medical centre. How I’ve hid my diagnosis for years from my own sister and the very inquisitive crime family we’ve moved in with.

“Are we ready to begin?” the minister asks. I nod, and so does Erico. “Very well then.”

Thankfully, his speech goes quickly and then it’s a matter of the vows. I’ve written no personal ones and I doubt Erico has either, so the minister goes through the standard vows until it’s time for theI do’s.

That’s when I stop breathing.

Erico speaks first, his hands finding mine with those two powerful words. He’s likely ensuring I can’t escape, but he’s also grounding me. Keeping me present through everything he promises me.

Fake, empty promises said for the minister’s sake and not mine.

Della reaches forward to hand me a simple, gold band. It’s heavy, likely expensive, and I slide it onto the fourth finger of his left hand.

Then it’s my turn and the minister repeats himself.

I do,I mouth.

Erico takes my left hand and slides a diamond ring on my finger, which I lose my breath at. A single large diamond in the centre of a thin, gold band. On either side, smaller emerald jewels.

It’s beautiful.

But then I remember who this ring was supposed to go to. No doubt, Erico bought it because it reminded him of Aurora’s green eyes. Drawing my hand away, I ignore the weight of his ownership and let it hang by my side and away from view.

The minister has no issue with the fact I hadn’t said the words aloud, which tells me someone here warned him of my troubles. He nods with a gentle smile and then seals our agreements with the last officiating statement: “You may now kiss the bride.”

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