Page 109 of The Silence Lies

We’re not close, not in the way I wish we were anyway. She was always my mark first and foremost, but I can’t pretend that the moments where it is only us don’t hold more meaning than just a boss and her bodyguard. I’ve subtly comforted her, calmed her with just a touch that I know is overstepping. But Sera never seems to mind, and I think those moments alone are what drives us closer.

I’m not expecting there to be anything else but a bond where she can fully trust me. At this point, I believe it’s something we both need because the battles I’m facing alone are starting to hurt and I’m not sure how much more I can take.

“You know you can come to me for anything, right?” The leader that was just threatening the end of a family name has swiftly been replaced with a woman who cares. She cares so deeply about those around her that to anyone else, it would be seen as a weakness. I know people out there who would use that against her, too. But if anything, it’s the reason she wants to continue. To seek revenge, to exact it in the most fitting way.

I realize my thoughts have taken over, and Sera is still waiting for a response. I nod, taking a seat beside her.

“You know that ring has nothing to do with me?”

I frown at her, not sure why she feels the need to justify herself to me of all people. I’m just her guard at the end of the day. She rules the way she wants to, and I protect her while she does it.

“I can tell that something is bothering you. I don’t know what, but you can trust me to listen.” Sera squeezes my hand. It’s the most contact we’ve had; lingering touches, hand squeezes, longing gazes that I can’t quite decipher from her.

After a beat of heavy silence, Sera sighs. I can practically taste the disappointment from her.

I’ve given her no expectation that I would ever talk, but she seems to still hold out hope that she can break my mold. At this point, it’s not that I don’t want to. I’ve spent the last two months watching her so closely that I’m finding as each day passes, I want to know more about her. The only way for that to happen would be to talk to her, but that comes at a heavy price.

One I’m not willing to pay.

“You don’t have to talk, Gio. But if you need someone to sit in silence with, you know where to find me.”

She goes to stand, but I reach forward, my fingertips grazing hers. She freezes, turning around to face me as I stand to my full height.

I tower over her, but she’s not intimidated by it.

Her brown eyes seek mine, an expectant smile teasing the plump lips I’ve shamelessly thought about on more than one occasion. It’s hard not to when you’re in my position, standing idly to the side, hearing her enjoy herself with someone else—two someone else’s.

Reaching forward, I brush the strand of hair that has made its way out of her ponytail. My fingers stroke delicately over her cheek, and I hear her suck in a breath at the contact.

My hand stops as soon as I realize it’s more than an instinctual gesture, dropping my arm away.

“Gio—“

My phone rings before she can say another word. I step away from her.

The moment is broken now, and though I am disappointed, I know it’s for the best.

What would I do anyway? She’s my boss, my mark. I have to protect her, not fall for her.

Sera steps towards the door, pulling it open and glancing once more at me over her shoulder. “The offer still stands,” she says before closing the door behind her.

I let out a breath, tugging my phone from my pocket. I know who it is without looking at the screen. At this point, it’s the only number that calls.

I wait until I’m sure Sera is back in the house before perching on my bed and clicking ‘answer’.

The monotonous voice sounds out through the speaker, and all the good I’ve been drowning in around Bianchi dissolves in an instant. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news, Giovanni.”

My stomach churns, and almost immediately, a cold sweat sheens my forehead. “I have,” I answer.

“Good. I need an update.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I wipe away at the beads of sweat, attempting to coax away the irritation and nerves, but it’s no use. “I don’t have anything for you.”

A huff brushes loudly in my ear, forcing me to wince. I don’t need to be a mind reader to know that my response isn’t the expected one. “They’re discovering new bodies every hour. I’d hate for them to discover the wrong person.”

I don’t miss the message. It’s loud and clear, serving as a warning. And I believe it. My fists still curl up. My knuckles still whiten until I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms. “I swear to god,” I grit out. “If you fucking touch her—“

Maniacal laughter effectively cuts me off. It’s brutal, callous, a definitive threat that I can’t escape. It continues for what feels like minutes, though I know that’s impossible.

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