Page 110 of The Silence Lies

I’m about to bark more expletives, cast the asshole down for their threats, but the laughter dies when the phone cuts off and I’m just left with my own pitiful rage.

“Fongoul!” My phone smashes against the wall from where I’ve thrown it. It clatters but doesn’t break, a grand symbol of how my heart feels inside. Helpless.

Serafina

I used to love parties, celebrations for all occasions. The grandeur of the venues, the decorations and themes. I used to enjoy putting on the most expensive dress my father would buy, feeling like a princess all the while knowing I would be a queen to others. Family gatherings, birthday parties, weddings, they were all part and parcel of my position. When I was younger, my father would flaunt me around, show me off to his friends and the other families, doting on how well I was doing in school.

My mother used to say it was because he was proud of me—at how beautiful I had become and how smart I was. But I knew my father always had ulterior motives. You never get where you are without turning a few heads.

Even after her passing when I was sixteen, my father and I still attended gatherings as a duo. But the older I got, the more I realized those gatherings were for my father’s cause. It was an effort to prove that his heir would be more than capable of taking his seat. And while most fathers in his position would be selling off their daughters in exchange for family allegiances, I’m starting to believe his intentions were more sinister.

I still don’t understand why my father forced me to come here tonight. Since the news broke of the trafficking ring and our family’s alleged involvement, it’s probably the worst timing possible. All eyes are on us, and while so many families turned up, there are still a number of them missing. Of course, the allegations of us being involved with trafficking are not true at all. La Cosa Nostra has nothing to do with the flesh trade. But that only makes the situation worse, making me look like I’m using my power to fuck over the rest of the families.

Tonight is all about one thing, now; proving there is no truth to the speculation.

“Dolcezza,” Luca purrs behind me over the cascading symphony orchestra at the front of the hall. His nickname for me has my heart pumping quicker. Maybe it’s because I know how hard it is for Luca to open up and let his walls down, but the sincerity of it is all the same. He wraps his arms around my waist, his hot breath skating over my neck. “Want to dance?”

I spin around, my beige Dolce and Gabbana tulle dress scraping the floor. I slide my arms around his neck and smile. Levi is somewhere at this party, schmoozing with another family. He’s always been good at socializing, his easy-going charm being the key to his success. And though I’m not complaining, I’m a little put out that the only company I’ve had for the last half an hour is my silent bodyguard.

Something happened to Giovanni last week. He seems different, like someone or something triggered the change. He’s distant, but close enough that his proximity still reminds me I’m safe. He’s stoic, yet underneath the surface, I can tell there is something dark festering away. He’ll never tell me, but if he does, I’ll be sure to listen- because holding your tongue for so long surely can’t be good for anyone.

“It’s about time one of you asked,” I tease Luca.

Without another word, he guides me onto the dance floor. The song changes to a smooth jazz—because god forbid they actually play something decent.

Luca spins me, catching me back in his arms. His chest presses against mine, and it gives me the chance to truly admire the suit molded to his physique. The obsidian color seems to bring out the vibrant blue of his eyes, the piece clinging to his body and making every aspect of his already gorgeous body a masterpiece.

“Raf confirmed the second location today,” Luca says quietly to me as we sway gently. “Marco is planning our next move as we speak.”

After the news last week about the traffic ring and the docks, we all agreed to lie low. And when I say ‘lie low’, that mostly involved spending a lot of time with Luca and Levi, conjuring up ways to fill the time.

My father knew I had nothing to do with it, but the rumors swirling only made him question my ability to lead La Cosa Nostra. He’s currently down at the bar, sweet talking one of the lower families. Since he has no real standing here anymore, he’s just using the opportunity to get on everyone’s good side.

Tonight, we’ve left Raf with the twins. They’ve been knee deep in plans on how to take down the Verdis, coming up with all possible scenarios. Now that they’ve nailed down the next target, it’ll be go time.

We agreed collectively that we would move fast. We don’t have time to argue; all we need is a plan and we go with it. I’ve left that to Marco since he seems in his element when it comes to planning attacks. Being the heirs to the gun trade means they have more than just guns in their arsenal. They have kick ass brains and a penchant for violence. They’re logical and methodical, ensuring a safe entrance and exit when the job is done.

So while the twins and Raf track their leads and go over every detail, Luca, Levi and I paint the perfect picture of unity. Little do the guests know that the unity we share is closer than just family allegiance.

“So what’s next?” I ask, moving with Luca. Our steps shuffle in time, his effortless moves proving he knows more about dancing than he lets on.

It’s a contrast to my second in command. The closest I’ve seen Levi to dancing is when I was twenty-two and we hit an underground club in the city. We snuck in, eager not to get caught or recognized, but Levi was so drunk that he made a scene with his not so elegant dance moves. Enzo had to peel his cousin off a waitress come midnight, cutting the night short but leaving us with a fond reminder that Levi cannot handle tequila.

“Raf thinks the Verdis move their product weekly, he also thinks those bodies at the docks are connected with them. And with the docks being closed, they have no extra income. They’ll be running out of funds to pay their men, meaning we’ll catch up to them soon enough.”

I’d like to say that the investigation on the trafficking ring and the closure of docks affected my businesses too, but it didn’t. Levi was smart enough to keep deliveries flowing by offsetting excess product and moving it to other areas. I still hate the fact my family's name is one of the biggest imports of drugs, but I’ve never touched the stuff. I can rely heavily on the fact that we’ve ensured control over who gets it. We can’t control the entire city, that would be naïve of me to believe that. My position comes with burdens, and unfortunately, this isn’t one that I can’t be relieved of.

We’re still none the wiser about who shipped those women and children, not without solid proof. As far as I was aware, there was no trafficking being run out of Iris Bay. Sure, my family name is linked to that dock because we own it, but the intricate goings on of that place are down to a much smaller family.

“Maybe we should talk to the Torres family?”

Luca’s eyes narrow on me. “I’ve already talked to them, and they don’t know anything. The first they knew was when that container flew open and dead bodies spilled out.”

I hate how brash it sounds, but he’s only describing what happened. Images of floppy corpses invade my mind, forcing me to shudder at the thought. We’ve gone back and forth between a few families, trying to figure out whose name brought that shipment in, but so far, nobody has confessed.

So it’s the Bianchi name being dragged through the dirt, until the feds deem us innocent—to a certain extent. The Governor has been no help either. He advised if we were really innocent, we should just let the investigation run its course. I’m tempted to go down to his office and remind him which family pays his salary, but it already crossed my mind that it would be a bad idea. Instead, I have to sit tight and hope this bullshit rolls away before my father rescinds my position altogether.

Looking up at Luca, I find his lips parted, revealing a glittering smile I wish I got to see more often. I frown, my fingertips brushing the stubble lining his jaw. I don’t know how I missed it—maybe it’s all the time we’ve spent together this past week. “You’ve grown it back.”

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