Page 86 of Vows of Silence

I turned to Luca and got relief.

And since Luca wasn’t here, and Silas reminded me of him in his own way…

Yeah, this was natural. Completely natural.

You keep telling yourself that, Isabelle…

In reality, I was a touch-starved, confused, kidnapped idiot who apparently couldn’t keep her own body under control.

And I couldn’t help but feel as though I had betrayed Luca. Even though that was silly. I had no future with him—I didn’t even know who he was!

Luca wasn’t mine. Not really. He was a voice through a phone. A shadow behind a screen. A man whose face I had never seen, whose hands had never touched me, whose mouth had never kissed mine.

But he had been mine in every way that mattered.

My secret.

My safety.

My constant.

And now Silas was pushing his way into places I had only ever let Luca exist. Into my thoughts. Into my dreams. Into the parts of me I didn’t even like admitting were there.

That felt like betrayal, even if that didn’t quite make sense.

I shook my head, ridding myself of my confusing thoughts and headed for the door, determined to prove to myself that I could do this. I didn’t need Silas to give me the guided tour. I didn’t need his silent strength. I could walk through this house on my own. I could leave the safety net of this room.

It swung open with zero resistance, just as I knew it would. Yet for some reason, I had braced myself for a blaring alarm. For a dozen armed guards ready to send me catapulting back into my prison. Or Silas appearing from the shadows like the nightmare he enjoyed being.

Wow.

I really was letting my imagination get the better of me here.

When none of that happened, I forced my body out of the door and took a deep breath.

The hallway beyond my room was dimly lit, the lamps along the walls casting soft gold pools across the polished floor. The manor was silent in that unnerving way expensive houses always were at night, as though every room was holding its breath, watching and waiting, anticipating what my next move would be.

I walked slowly at first, drinking in everything I could see.

The manor was a typical rich mansion, with gold adornments, weird marble statues and even a suit of armour in one of the corners.

I kept my fingers along the wall as I walked, rounding one corner and the next, not knowing where I was going, simply allowing my feet to guide me instinctively.

I came across a hallway that was brighter than the rest. Along the walls were pictures, each with a name underneath. I stepped closer, seeing nothing but a row of stern-looking men and unhappy looking women.

Until I reached the end.

Maria Falcone.

Silas’s mother.

And right beside her was Silas’s dad, Antonio.

I was drawn to them for some reason, stepping closer to the wall to get a better look.

Maybe it was because they seemed happier than the rest, their smiles reaching their eyes. Maybe it was because they seemed so far removed from the dangerous-looking men before them. Or maybe it was simply because they were a link to Silas. A piece of his history I didn’t know.

The Silas I had heard of would have fit well with the angry-looking mafia men lined up first. But he came from this happy-looking couple. He belonged to Maria and Antonio.