Page 15 of The Silence Lies

“We both know she won’t leave the building,” he grunts.

But that doesn’t mean she’s safe.

Whatever happened seems to have left them both in foul moods. I guess she needs a breather and Levi is willing to give her that.

Stoically, I stay in my position, silent and obedient. It’s what I was hired to do, and it’s what I do best. I’ve been at this job for so long that I’ve become highly sought after as hired muscle. I’m trusted with the safety of prominent families like the Bianchis because I’ve never failed to protect those I’ve been hired to serve.

My silence is what keeps everyone safe. I don’t speak a word to my clients, and they seem to feel more protected that way. It’s like my silence is a vow, and I’m not unversed in those. Omertà is what these families abide by, after all.

“I don’t suppose you know any families we could align with,” Levi laughs light-heartedly.

I tilt my head, the answer sitting on the tip of my tongue. I know loads of families. In fact, I know some of the most powerful families. But it’s not my place to intervene in matters such as this.

“We need to get the Grecos on our side,” Levi explains, sitting back on the couch.

My ears perk up at the news. The Grecos are another powerful family, one that typically deals in everything illegal. I know some of the families prefer to keep things on the cleaner side of the law to avoid prying eyes, but the Grecos are a law to themselves. Somehow, I don’t think even Serafina will be able to get them on her side. If it means risking their position in the organization, they won’t do it.

“Luca has something on them, something that could sway them to side with us,” Levi murmurs, still staring blankly out the floor-to-ceiling window. “Serafina refuses to use her authority, and she won’t even consider what Luca has. We’re running out of options.”

I remain stoic, even though my ears have perked up from his second revelation, my interest piqued. I don’t know why he’s telling me this, but I have so many questions running around my head.

I decide I should go find Serafina instead, and Levi doesn’t stop me.

By the time I locate her downstairs, she has slipped into a booth facing the bar. It’s not even three in the afternoon, so there won’t be any patrons in her club until later. Still, she nurses a glass of clear liquor, clutching it tightly like someone might snatch it from her at any moment.

Her doe-eyes lift when I approach, her shoulders visibly relaxing when she sees it’s just me. “I guess he sent you down here,” she mutters.

I shake my head.

She gestures for me to sit with her. “We don’t really know one another,” she sighs.

And I intend to keep it that way.

She pats the seat beside her in invitation, and I contemplate it for a moment. Whatever she wants from me, she won’t get it. When people speak, the truth comes out. It’s another reason why I remain silent. People become far too honest in the company of those who rarely speak. It’s why I am able to hold so many secrets. I can listen, and both parties know that’s as far as those spoken words will go.

“I don’t really drink,” she laughs, running her fingertip along the rim of the glass. “I’ve never enjoyed it to be honest.”

I continue watching her closely. Her brown hair is pinned back, but the stray strands that make their way in front of her face float with every exhaled breath. She’s elegant in the way she holds herself. I’ve already noticed the composure she maintains, despite the evident emotions warring beneath the surface.

She sinks into the silence I’ve created. With her eyes pinned to the glass in front of her, I start to wonder what she might be thinking. What drew her to the bottle when she’s clearly abstinent from alcohol. I can’t even imagine what she must be going through. Losing her best friend so tragically has clearly hit her hard. So hard that she wants to fight back, and I don’t blame her. The Verdis are a piece of work. Chauvinists at best, who want to overthrow the Bianchi empire for their own piece of the pie.

“They want me to go to the Greco wedding,” Sera mentions, eyes still downcast. “They said I need to flex my authority, tell Don Greco that he must side with us.”

There’s uncertainty in her voice, like the whole time she’s telling me this, she’s considering her options. She can’t see the true power she possesses. I do, though.

While all the other fuckers leading their families look down on a woman taking the helm, they can’t see the true potential. There’s a reason women don’t lead. Men consider them too emotional, worn down by feelings that could jeopardize a family’s position. But that shouldn’t be seen as a weakness. It’s a fucking threat, because women do lead with emotions, strong emotions that could carry an army to war. Feelings that rival male dominance. Women like Serafina are fierce because they have to be, they have no choice. And losing a best friend will sure as fuck ignite that fire for revenge.

For a while I just sit beside Sera. She tells me about Enzo; about what it was like growing up with him. I’m envious that she got that upbringing, that she had a best friend, even if she lost him tragically. Then, she tells me about her relationship with Luciano Verdi; about how toxic and manipulative he was. That makes my blood boil. Nobody should have to go through what she did and just the mere mention of his name having any involvement in her loss has my fists curling.

Eventually, she talks about her father. I recognize the admiration in her eyes because it’s the same way my daughter used to look at me. Her mother died when she was born, something I understand the pain of, but she reverts back to happier memories; ones where her father would spend days with her, despite his position. Taking her out, spending quality time with his daughter the way a father should.

I swallow past the baseball sized lump in my throat. Her stories dredge old memories up, moments from my past that I can’t seem to wipe away nor drown myself in liquor to avoid. I shake my head, needing to get a hold of myself. I should be concentrating on Serafina instead. She clearly needs my attention right now and it will do me no good to dwell on the past. I have to look to the future.

Slowly, Serafina warms up to the idea of drinking the liquor in her glass. I don’t stop her because I know too well how grief can creep up on you. She needs to wallow. She needs to numb whatever is hurting her today because tomorrow is a new day.

One glass becomes three. In turn, Sera decides to keep the bottle close to her, eventually discarding the glass entirely because being sober is not on the cards tonight. She hasn’t drunk a lot, but clearly she isn’t used to this much alcohol in her system.

“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” she murmurs. Her brown eyes find mine, and all I see is worry brimming in them. She doesn’t trust herself to carry her family name. She doesn’t believe she can lead La Cosa Nostra. She might show confidence and strength in the boardroom, but you know what they say about drunks; the truth spills when the vodka does.

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