Page 38 of The Silence Lies

I shudder at the thought. I remember Enzo telling me about Luciano Verdi. At the time, Sera and he were an item, and Enzo hated it. I suspected it was because he was in love with her, but it wasn’t just that.

Luciano Verdi was abusive. He would torment Sera, treat her like shit, use her as his toy. She was young. She fell for him because she didn’t know any better. Sera has come a long way since those days. She’s stronger; a fighter. I admire that most about her because I know she’s capable of using her emotions to get shit done. It’s what so many of the men in this Mafia are afraid of.

“She didn’t choose the Verdi’s side,” she states with certainty. “She doesn’t have a choice in any of this.”

“Like fuck she doesn’t!”

“Levi!” she snaps with a glare. “I know what Luciano does, and his brother is probably the role model Luciano looks up to. So when I say she doesn’t have a choice, she does not have a choice.”

“Fuck sake, Luisa,” I mutter, sliding my fingers through my hair.

“Add it to the list of shit we need to get done.” She takes on her no nonsense tone that turns her into a real badass. “We’ll get her away from Ronaldo.”

I nod, but I can’t help feeling the guilt seep in. She’s my little sister, and I was so oblivious to the reality of the situation. I should have known that Ronaldo would be just like his brother, and that revelation makes me feel more murderous than Enzo’s death did.

“I fucking hate these things!” Matteo mutters bitterly, struggling to fix his tie in the mirror.

Marco spins his brother around, rolling his eyes as he manages to get it looking semi-decent.

We’re all dressed in tuxedos, ready to make our appearances at Don Greco’s son’s wedding. We’ve spent the better part of a week planning for today. We’ve discussed the travel arrangements, though they have changed several times. We’ve even planned for an attack at the wedding—because at this point, who knows what the Verdis are planning.

It’s invite-only, and the highest ranking families are the only ones allowed to attend. Matteo and Marco will be coming, but their invitation only stretches as far as security. They won’t be allowed inside, which means we need to keep our wits about us. We’ll have a few of us on the inside, but that’s it.

While the Ferrante brothers fix each other up, I turn to Giovanni. Aside from the not-so-subtle digs, I’ve kept my cool for the last few days. Deep down, I know Giovanni was only following orders, but from here on in, he needs to make sure that nobody lays a finger on our leader, and I mean no-one.

“Do I have to wear it?” Matteo grumbles. Of course the leather jacket wearing mobster would have an issue with tuxedos. Unfortunately, it’s the go-to attire for a wedding of this magnitude.

Usually, I’d opt for something more breathable, especially with the Californian heat—and did I mention I hate bow ties?

“It makes me look—”

“I think you look handsome.”

The entire room falls into a state of awe as Bianchi strides in. We all must have the same thoughts because as I glance either side of where I’m standing, we’re all gawking like we’ve just seen a pair of tits for the first time.

Serafina is wearing the dress I picked out, the glittering material clinging to her body just how I remember. Every delicious curve of her body is accentuated by the dress, and I’m just waiting for her to turn around so I can memorize that ass. Her hair is styled in chocolate waves that cascade down her back, just begging to be wrapped in my fist. And don’t get me started on the make-up. She doesn’t need any, but damn she’s a smoke-show with her red lips and dark eyes.

“Have you all finished staring?” she quips. “Because I don’t want to be late. I heard this is going to be the wedding of the year.”

Luca shifts uncomfortably, loosening his bowtie slightly. I’ve already noticed the looks he’s been pointing Sera’s way lately. He can’t keep his eyes off of our leader, and I don’t blame him. She’s fucking radiant. The dress she’s in now looks like it was made for her. And yet, Luca’s obvious attention doesn’t bother me. I kind of like the idea that other men want her—within our circle anyway—but I’m the only one out of all of us here that has had a taste of Serafina Bianchi.

But I’ve also noticed the not-so-subtle glances from our leader, too. She might not say as much, but I can feel that attraction vibrating in the air. She’s just as attracted to Luca as she is to me which unnerves me. I don’t want there to be any animosity in the group, but I can already feel the sliver of jealousy working its way through my mind.

I nudge Fontana, but he doesn’t make any effort to move from his position. So I make the first move, stepping forward and taking Sera’s hand in mine.

“You look gorgeous, Bianchi. Breathtaking,” I murmur in her ear before pulling away.

She blushes, sucking in a shaky breath as I kiss her hand. “Always the sweet talker.”

“Need to go over the plan again?” Luca asks, running a hand over his clean shaven jaw. Yeah, I noticed that shit. I’ve yet to ask him about his sudden change in appearance. Though I have to admit, whether or not he shaved in a bid to impress Sera, he looks better without the fuzzy mess.

“I think I’ve got it,” Sera answers with a smile. “Walk in like I own the place, blackmail Greco, walk out. Simple.”

I know she’s being sarcastic, but even I feel the need to reiterate that nothing ever goes to plan. I’m her second in command; managing her expectations is part of my job. “Simple plans are never simple,” I say.

Sera gives me a pointed look, like she already knew what I was going to say. It fills me with confidence that she already expects complications, and I don’t know whether that should worry me or not.

“Let’s go, then.” Luca heads towards the door first, while I hook Sera’s arm through mine.

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