Page 9 of Vows of Silence

Luca:I’ll sort this, little ember. I promise.

“Isabelle picked a dress for the engagement party,” Mum answered for me.

Way to go, Mum! He’s going to think I have literally nothing going on upstairs.

“Did you?” he murmured. “Are you looking forward to the party?”

“It’s very nice,” I replied, focusing on the dress and nothing else. “A bit more to my mother’s taste than mine, but I’m sure it’ll look lovely once the fitting has been done.”

“You will look wonderful in anything,” he replied, causing my mother to beam her happiness.

“And you, Mr Vescari, what have you been doing with your time?” I asked.

“Adrien, please,” he admonished gently. “And we recently opened another hotel in Paris. It’s taken a lot of my time, but it’s a work of beauty. You must come and visit sometime. In fact, expect to receive an invitation for all of you coming very soon for the grand opening.”

“Paris,” my mother breathed, clapping her hands together. “Oh, how beautiful. That’s where we had our honeymoon, isn’t it, Vittorio?”

“Indeed it was, my darling. Happiest three weeks of my life.”

That was a lie.

My parents had entered into an arranged marriage, much like I was being forced into. I’d heard the stories of their honeymoon. My mother was so unhappy she’d destroyed the penthouse suite they were staying in, and my grandfather had to pay over five million to have it refurbished.

A story she now referred to as “water under the bridge” ever since my engagement.

“I’ve also extended an invitation to Silas,” Adrien said casually, and everyone around me froze.

“Silas… Falcone?” My dad asked.

“Of course. The hotel is right across the street from his casino. I’m hoping for a profitable partnership for the pair of us.”

“With Silas Falcone?” I practically spat.

I might be ignorant to a lot of what was happening around me, but I knew who Silas fucking Falcone was.

Mob boss. Murderer. Snake. Psychotic. Take your pick of any bad word, I guarantee you could apply it to him.

His family was old-school mafia. The type involved in shady underground dealings, not even bothering to hide in plain sight. They were open and proud of their businesses.

Rafael, the current don, and Silas’s grandfather, may take the crown for being the most unpleasant, repulsive man ever to come near me, but Silas was a close second.

I’d only had the misfortune of meeting him once. He was at my eighteenth birthday party, and truly I saw him as the bad omen for everything that happened that disastrous night.

“Silas isn’t as bad as you’d think. Strange little fucker, what with the mask and all,” Adrien chuckled. “But the man knows his business.”

“The man is a mafia prick,” I couldn’t help myself from saying.

Even only meeting him once, I knew he was dangerous. But even if I had never met him, I couldn’t escape his reputation.

He always wore a black suit. His hands were always hidden beneath black gloves. His face always concealed behind his silver phantom mask.

He never spoke. He barely moved. In fact, I hadn’t seen him move all night. And yet, he was always shifting about, lurking in one corner or another, his mask always looking in my direction.

The memory alone was enough to have my stomach churning.

“Isabelle!” my mother gasped. “Language! We have guests!”

“That’s quite alright, Sophie. I don’t mind my woman speaking her mind. Tell me,” he said, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands. “What is it that you don’t like? His mafia connections?”