Page 21 of The Silence Lies

Slowly, we watch Luciano push up off the floor, swiping at his mouth. He points a finger at Sera, glaring at her. “You won’t last at the top, Bianchi. Everyone is out for your blood.”

“I said,” she steps forward, aiming the gun at his chest. “Leave.”

He laughs as he steps away before pushing through the door, leaving an ominous feeling in the room.

“Matteo, Marco,” she barks. “Make sure he leaves.”

In unison, the twins nod, tugging their guns out of their belts and following Verdi out of the room. I’m still reeling in the aftermath, adrenaline punching through my system. I wasn’t finished with him.

“How the fuck did he get in here?” Levi asks.

“Find out,” Sera orders, handing Giovanni his gun back. She turns to me, her eyes honed in on my face. “You good?”

I don’t answer her. My tongue traces my lip, where I can taste the blood. My face fucking aches, but that’s the least of my concerns. I’m a good fighter at the worst of times, but Verdi caught me off guard, and I’ll never forget that. I’m good with my fists, even better with a gun.

When I look at Serafina, there’s some level of understanding between us. I perceive it as more than that, though. It’s respect. That I stepped in when nobody else did. That I reacted when the fucker was talking shit about Donna Bianchi. Something snapped inside of me when Luciano mentioned my father, but I was already twisted up inside watching Levi and Sera’s interaction. Something has changed between them—and witnessing it elicited something that felt a lot like jealousy.

Levi regards us both before stepping out.

“Sit,” Sera orders me, reaching for the ice bucket holding her champagne bottle. She dips her hand into it, pulling out some ice cubes and wrapping them in a napkin.

I silently comply, taking a seat next to Sera, wincing when she presses the ice to my cheek. The pain subsides as it numbs beneath the ice, but the way Sera gazes at me has my heart rate kicking up a notch.

“You know I’m sorry about your father,” she murmurs, sliding her gaze to where she’s holding the ice against my face.

“I know,” I assure.

She chews on her lip, glancing at Giovanni in the corner. He watches closely, but I don’t miss the way he’s solely focused on his boss, observing our interaction, her reactions.

Fuck, does he want her too?

What is it about Serafina Bianchi that has all the men in her inner circle tripping over themselves?

I don’t need to ask myself that, though. Not when the answer is staring me in the face. Her brown eyes are contemplative as she shifts the ice against my cheekbone. She’s as tough as she is tender, as fierce as she is gentle. And the more time I spend around her, the more I’m struggling to reconcile the resentment I feel toward her with the undeniable attraction.

“I know you still blame me, and—”

“You need to stop worrying about what people think of you,” I mutter, cutting her off before she can apologize again.

I don’t need her apology. I need my father back. I need a goddamn rewind button on the last few weeks so I can go back and take out the Verdis before they even have the chance to pull the trigger.

Sera’s stunned into silence, withdrawing her hand from my face as her brow furrows, a little crease appearing between them.

I grab her wrist before she can retreat too far. It’s not meant in a harsh way, but I see Giovanni move forward anyway, prepared to step in.

“Like you, you mean?” she scoffs, snatching her hand away.

“That wasn’t about me, was it?” I accuse, raising a brow at her.

She frowns, unable to meet my gaze. Then she slides a glass of whiskey across the table. I think it’s Matteo’s but I don’t care, I take it from her and finish it off anyway.

“Luciano might have said all that shit, but it was to hurt you, not me.”

“So why did you react?” Her eyes narrow, suspicion blazing in their depths.

Damn, she’s got me there.

“I’m on your side,” I reply simply. “He was talking shit about you, and I’m not a fan of assholes who pick on women. After what he did to you, I’m surprised he isn’t already dead.”

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