Page 6 of Ruthless Silence
Interesting. Even worn down to the bone, even overwhelmed, she fights for her boundaries. I pull my tablet closer, typing quickly before sliding it to Marco.
"Give her the clause. And a month before we… begin."
Marco raises an eyebrow at my concession but reads it aloud for the room.
Ana's hands move fast, signing directly at me: "Why?"
I meet her gaze steadily as I sign back: "Fear makes terrible children."
She blinks, processing not just the words but the implication. That I've thought about children. Our children. That I care about how they're made. The image flashes unbidden. Her swollen with my child, still signing death threats even as I worship her body. Christ.
While the lawyers return to their negotiations, Ana and I conduct our own silent conversation. Her fingers drum the table again, definitely practicing the ASL alphabet now, findingcomfort in the familiar movements. She's almost swaying now, exhaustion pulling at her like undertow.
She signs, trying to be subtle: "Why do you not speak?"
I touch my throat, letting her see the movement above my collar, then sign: "Why don't you run?"
Her response comes without hesitation: "Nowhere to run. You killed my home."
The accusation sits heavy in my chest. She believes it with every fiber of her being. Ten years she's carried this truth. Ten years of shaping herself into a weapon aimed at me. Much like the knife at her thigh.
Marco notices the tension building between us. "Something you'd like to share, brother?"
I write on the tablet, showing him rather than the room: "She's brave. Exhausted but won't show weakness."
Marco doesn't even blink at my assessment. "The Morettis were always stubborn."
Ana watches our silent exchange, trying to read the dynamic between us. I can see her cataloging details: how Marco commands without raising his voice, how I defer to him in business matters, how the lawyers fear us both but in different ways.
She signs again, bolder now: "They say you're a monster."
I sign back: "They're right."
"Why are you silent?"
I touch my throat again, then spell out slowly: "Your family knows why."
Her breathing changes, shoulders tensing. She stares at me for a long moment, and I see it. The war between what she's been told and what she's observing.
"I don't understand you," she signs finally.
"Good," I sign back. "Understanding makes killing easier."
Her eyes flash with something that might be anger or might be curiosity. "You think I come to kill you?"
"I think you've been practicing for years."
She actually almost smiles at that, a tiny lift at the corner of her mouth before she catches herself. "Your surveillance isn't subtle."
"Wasn't meant to be."
Marco clears his throat. "If you two are finished with your silent conversation, we have documents to sign."
The lawyers push papers across the table. Official contracts with impressive seals and lengthy Latin phrases that mean nothing and everything. Ana reads through them carefully, her finger following each line even though I'm sure half the legal English escapes her.
"The ceremony details will be arranged separately," Anderson announces. "Agreed by both families."
Ana snorts. She doesn't have much family left. The honesty of it catches me off guard. My body responds to her admission like foreplay, blood rushing south with inappropriate heat.
