Page 1 of The Silence Lies

Prologue

Serafina

Today is the day I become a leader.

Today is the day I start my rule over La Cosa Nostra.

Following in my father’s footsteps isn’t something I ever wanted, but it’s an obligation I must fulfill for the Bianchi name. I knew this was coming, though. Maybe not this exact moment, but I always knew I would be locked into this family. I never had the option, the choice. La Cosa Nostra is all I’ve ever known, and it’s all I ever will.

For the last three years, I have been primed for this. With my grandfather’s deteriorating health and my own father’s decision to take a step back, I’m now being thrust into the spotlight. I wish I could say I was ready, but as I sit staring out at the shimmering waters of the Mediterranean, I’m not so sure.

“Ready?” my father asks.

“Yes,” I rasp, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, while losing all confidence in my words. My mind has been racing since we landed in Italy yesterday, and despite my father’s efforts, I’m nervous as hell. The picturesque landscape I’ve been staring at for the last half an hour does nothing to settle my nerves either. I’ve spent the better part of my morning wondering if I’ll be any good at this, wondering if this is truly my calling or just a last ditch attempt for my father to keep our family at the top of the hierarchy.

I stand up and dust off my tailored trousers, my heels clicking on the wooden flooring as I turn to face the man about to seal my fate. I suppose I should feel some relief with what’s about to happen. Usually, women in our position are sold off, married to the next powerful family in a bid to align loyalty. Not me. I’m the heir, the one and only to the family name. And the first female in our family to hold this kind of power.

Fortunately for me, I have the skills and knowledge to lead this family— it’s the confidence I’m not so certain of.

My father holds the door open for me, eyes dragging down my white pantsuit. “You should have picked a darker color,” he comments, fingering the lapel on my jacket. “Blood stains.”

“Of course,” I mutter, ignoring the urge to roll my eyes. Even though we are close, my father can’t resist pointing out my flaws—in this case, the color of my outfit.

I see his point, though. These events never go as planned, and with tradition being scrapped, I’m anticipating some violence. Fortunately, no weapons are allowed during this ceremony, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t keep my wits about me. There’s always after.

I notice the tension straight away. There’s a heavy atmosphere as we enter the library, almost like every man here is out for blood— my blood.

Maybe I should have worn black.

My grandfather sits at the head of the table in the center of the room. His hands are linked and resting easy in front of him. Ten other men surround him, each wearing the same solemn, impatient expression as the other.

As I approach, they all stand. They bow their heads discreetly, but I don’t miss the distaste marring some of these men’s faces.

Only some.

We’re in a new era now. This is the new generation of La Cosa Nostra, and I’m the one these men have to obey. Of course, traditions have always favored the males. But there are guys here who respect my family’s decision; who respect me, including my best friend, Enzo.

He stands closest to me, at the other end of the table. His eyes glance up to me as I get closer, a look of respect and admiration swimming in them. With dark hair and dark eyes, this man is undeniably handsome, but that’s as far as our appreciation for one another goes. He has always been my rock, my confidante. We’ve grown up together, seen the best and the worst of one another, so it goes without saying that he has my back today.

I take my seat, and in uniformed silence, the rest of the men descend to their own chairs.

My grandfather watches me intensely. While he all but encouraged my father to announce my position, I still feel the bitterness over the fact my mother never bore another child, a male heir. Like in some way it was her doing that I came out her womb a girl. Still, he’s taking this situation with the grace and confidence of a man born into this role, born to lead the family. It’s the very reason he is leading this ceremony and not my father.

As a recent leader, he must remain silent and allow the room to speak up. My grandfather might be family, but he is also the oldest here. As far as hierarchy goes, Mafia or not, he is the most respected man in the room.

“Thank you for joining us,” my grandfather announces abruptly.

All eyes turn to him. All attention is solely on the man at the head of the table.

“First of all, as far as tradition goes—”

A man to the right of him scoffs, eyes narrowing onto me.

I shift uneasily in my seat. As much as I want to put on a brave face, I’m the only woman in this room. I might have allies here, but there’s no denying I have enemies, too.

“Verdi, do you have something to say?” my grandfather asks, his glare matching the threatening tone of his words.

“She doesn’t belong here, and you know it,” Don Verdi snarls. “Women have never ruled the families! This is obscene, this—”

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