Page 111 of The Silence Lies

Luca captures my hand, kissing my fingertips. “Somebody told me you liked it,” he smirks before leaning closer. “I told you, I listen to what you want, even when you don’t say it.”

“And what do I want right now, Fontana?” I challenge him with a smirk.

“You—“

“May I?” a deep voice asks behind me, making us both jump slightly. My heart beat skips when I recognize who the voice belongs to, but my pulse doesn’t let up because of it. In all honesty, I haven’t spoken to my father since he ordered me a week ago to attend this gathering tonight. A united front, he called it.

Call it what you will, but I refuse to kiss asses with half the men in here who never had my back when I took my position. The men who sat idly by while another family threatened me, simultaneously sending my best friend to the grave. They’re only here for my father, and that’s probably because they think he’s pulling my strings.

“Of course, Don Bianchi.” Luca nods, taking my hand and kissing the back of it before handing it to my father.

I smile weakly at him over my father’s shoulder. I know he won’t go far, but I was enjoying our moment together, even if it mostly involved business. Luca seems to grant me the reprieve I crave. Like he said before, he knows what I want, even if I don’t say it. He knows that sometimes I need that control taken from me, not because I can’t handle it, but because my hands get sore holding the reins all the time. It just makes me adore him even more because I can see how well his father brought him up. He’s a gentleman, but he’s one of the deadliest.

“Tesora,” my father speaks up, drawing my attention away from a winking Luca.

“Yes, Pa.”

He twirls me around, my dress fanning out below my hips. “People are talking,” he mutters.

“About what?”

“It’s easy to see that your second in command has taken a shine to you,” he smiles at me, but it’s fake. There isn’t a hint of kindness in his expression, though I’m pretty sure if an outsider was observing us, they’d believe it to be a sweet moment between father and daughter. “Marchese needs to be put in his place. Fontana, too.”

“Pa, what are you talking about?” I frown, catching Levi’s concerned look from across the dance floor. He stands beside Luca now, both muttering warily to one another.

“You are Donna Bianchi. Those men are nothing more than your soldiers.” His grip tightens around my waist, serving as a warning. “Being a woman in La Cosa Nostra is already seen as a weakness. You’re a leader. Those men will destroy you, and then what will you have?”

I push away from the man who calls himself my father. Of all the conversations we’ve had, he has never been this direct, abrupt or harsh. Where was his concern when Luciano was breaking me? Where was his fatherly support when I lost my best friend? The man I’m looking at no longer resembles my father, but a man who believes he is close to losing everything—and I’m not talking about his daughter.

“You don’t trust me to lead this family?” I question.

“Tesora,” his sweet tone returns. “I’m just saying that these accusations of our involvement in the flesh trade should have been handled before they even started.”

“We didn’t know that was going to happen!” I say through gritted teeth, though the urge to shout it is getting stronger by the second.

“But you would have, if your men were doing their jobs.”

“They are doing their jobs! Better than I could have asked for.”

My father’s eye roll adds to the anger bubbling beneath this tulle dress. Designer or not, I have every urge to tear it off and strangle my father with the fabric over the accusations he’s throwing.

“If they were doing their jobs, you wouldn’t have people gossiping about your relations with them.”

My eyes widen at the audacity of my father. I can’t believe what I’m hearing; my relationships should have no bearing on my ability to lead nor the ability of my men to carry out their jobs.

As my fists clench, I cast a glance over at Luca, but he’s too busy laughing at something Levi said. I look back at my father, but he’s just wearing a blank expression, nothing to give away except disappointment.

“You end it now.”

“Why?” I growl, stepping forward.

“Because, Tesora, they don’t care about you.”

Levi locks eyes with me, and I see the concern marring his features. He looks like he’s prepared to march over and whisk me away, but I don’t want that. Not here. If what my father is saying is true, then I don’t want to be seen as weak. Having these men behind me no longer serves as a reminder of my power, but gives way to speculation.

My fingernails dig into my palms, the anger coursing through so venomously that the only thing I can do is walk away. I don’t say a word to my father. I avoid eye contact with Levi and Luca as I turn on my heel and head away from the dance floor.

It isn’t until I’m outside, marching across the parking lot in the cool night breeze that I’m finally able to breathe. It felt like that moment was slowly suffocating me, but I didn’t know it. I look out at the expensive cars parked out here, wondering if every single person really thinks what my father said.

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