Page 40 of The Silence Lies

Just the mention of the name has me coiling up, anger tensing my shoulders and narrowing my gaze. “They would do well to steer clear of me, today.”

“Do I want to know?”

I meet Luca’s inquisitive stare, and despite the question I can tell it’s more than intrigue.

“It seems violence runs in the family. Sera saw bruises on my sister the other day. We think Ronaldo is hurting her.”

“Then we’d better make sure she’s okay.” Luca goes to turn on his heel, no doubt to search for Luisa.

I stop him before he can take another step, shaking my head. “I don’t think she’ll be showing her face, not if the Verdis have a say in it.”

A flicker of understanding and shared annoyance darts between us. And just like me, I don’t have to tell him the meaning behind my words. Luisa won’t be here because the Verdis won’t be able to keep an eye on her—at least not without arousing suspicion. She’ll be under the personal watch of one of their trusted guards, caged like a fucking slave, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Not yet, at least.

Serafina

The ceremony was beautiful. The bride was gorgeous and the food was to die for. If I could pin the aesthetics of this wedding to a board, I would. Everything about today has been planned with thoughtful, delicate detail, and I’m totally here for it.

Luca and I sway to the music in an attempt to look like we don’t have ulterior motives. Despite the facade, the tension between us has evaporated and in its place is something lighter. There’s no sharp undertone, no subtle resentment. We’re just two people, dancing like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Levi has disappeared to negotiate a meeting with the elusive Greco, and Giovanni is nearby, keeping close contact with the Ferrante brothers. And while I’m trying to keep my nerves at bay, there’s one person I keep locking eyes with that sends shivers down my spine.

Luciano.

“Don’t give him the satisfaction, Bianchi.”

Luca turns us, redirecting our position so he can assess our surroundings— something he has been doing all day. His gaze softens as he looks down at me with a gentle smile, and that look alone fills me with the strength I didn’t know I needed.

“You’re a good dancer, Fontana.”

Luca rolls his eyes. “I hardly call this dancing,” he scoffs.

“Noted.”

We rock gently. The music is soft, but I’m focused on Luca and the way his eyes dart around the room once more. Maybe he feels it too, that charge of uncertainty. Or maybe he’s just being cautious. Either way, I feel safe.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

My pulse picks up, taken aback by the apology. It’s one word, but it’s the kind that leaves you vulnerable, and right now, I can see the sincerity shining in his eyes. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Events like these always make me uncomfortable.”

I tilt my head, finally taking in his appearance. He looks less troubled than he did a couple of weeks ago. He’s relaxed, but not too much, and I can’t ignore how sharp he’s looking in his suit with his clean shaven jaw and hair brushed back.

We turn again, this time moving more freely, slipping past other guests. I know it’s a tactical move on Luca’s part, but I’m enjoying the sway.

“There’s too many people. Too many variables,” he whispers in my ear.

“Do you ever stop?” I ask, my brows furrowing together.

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking and just live in the moment.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize the irony. It sounds hypocritical considering everything that has happened, but I hate the idea of Luca never enjoying life because he’s always on lookout, always anticipating, always worrying.

All of the sudden, Luca pushes me away. Our hands are still connected so when I reach arms length, he twirls me around and tugs me back to him. “Like this?”

A girlish giggle leaves my throat, and I can’t help but smile. “Something like that.”

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