Code of Silence

by Tessier, Shantel

  I run a hand down my face. “I …”

  “Were you going to tell me?” she shouts, shoving my chest.

  I didn’t want her to find out this way. “Haven …”

  “He’s going to get you killed!” she screams, her fists hitting my chest. “Don’t you see that? You’re not like them, Luca.”

  But I am. She doesn’t know about half the shit I’ve done or the people I’ve killed. When she’s around, I always hide the dark and evil side that comes so naturally to me. She makes me think that I can be better. That maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to be a monster.

  “Please.” She grips my jacket. “Please don’t go.”

  “Haven …”

  “Pick me,” she cries, and my chest tightens. If only it were that easy. “Please, run away with me. I’ll give up everything for you, Luca. I’m asking you to do the same.” She drops to her knees as if her legs can no longer hold her up.

  I drop to mine as well and pull her small body onto my lap. I close my eyes and hold her. They pop open the moment she shifts to straddle me. Her freezing hands go to either side of my face, but I don’t even flinch. The desperation in her eyes chills me to the bone. “I love you. We can do this. I know we can. We deserve this chance, Luca. To be free and live our lives together. Like we’ve discussed so many times.”

  I’ve thought that a million times.

  “If not for you, do it for me. I need you.” She licks her chattering lips. “Please don’t leave me. Run away and marry me.”

  I cup her face and let out a long breath, knowing I have a choice to make. And I know it’s the right one. “I meant it when I told you I loved you, Haven. More than anything in this world.” Her eyes light up with newfound hope. “And, of course. I’ll do it for you. For us.”

  _______________

  Present

  I lied to her.

  It’s easy to feed someone lies when you know they’re starving.

  Right then and there, I told her I’d be back the following day to get her. That I had some contacts I could call, and that we needed twenty-four hours to get our stuff together to get out of the country. In order to spend the rest of our lives together, we’d need to spend the night apart.

  Three hours later, I boarded a private jet with a heavy heart. It was the best thing to do at the time. We wouldn’t have been able to run and live the life I wanted us to have. I was called to serve, and no one runs from the Mafia. Not even Luca Bianchi. They would have skinned me for my betrayal. It would have been painful. I’ve seen it done, and I would have ended up in a shallow grave after a week of enduring the torture.

  But Haven? My father might have taken her in as his own personal whore. Or sold her off to his best friend. Or even worse, handed her over to my brothers. I couldn’t have done that to her. So I lied. I hurt her, knowing I’d have to win her back when I returned. Things aren’t the same since I left for Italy. I’m no longer a boy trying to fight the inevitable. I’m a Bianchi, and the Bianchis live and die by the code.

  Standing here in her bedroom watching her stare at me with hatred and fear won’t deter my plans. I knew this day would come. Even if I had to rip up the floor underneath her feet and carry her out kicking and screaming, she would be mine.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HAVEN

  HE REACHES FOR my hand. I go to pull it away, but he’s faster. He yanks me out of my room and up the stairs. I feel my chest tighten as we walk down the hallway. I know where we’re going, and I dig my running shoes into the floor to try to stop us.

  It doesn’t work.

  Coming up to the door I barged through earlier, he places his large hand firmly on the small of my bare back. Opening the door, he pushes me in. I come to a quick stop as three sets of eyes look at me.

  “There’s the bride-to-be.” His father smiles at me.

  My stomach drops at his words. Like an anchor out in a bottomless ocean, pulling me deeper and deeper into the dark water, unable to get a breath. The light from the sky above gets dimmer with every second.

  “Haven,” my father says my name.

  My watery eyes go to his, and he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. Or worried. “Why?” I croak out. My family knows how much Luca leaving destroyed me. My mother tried to distract me with expensive things, but my father just avoided it completely.

  He tilts his head to the side, looking at me with concern as if I’m about to have a nervous breakdown. I think the situation warrants it. I wonder if he would place me in a mental facility if I refuse to do this? Can a father do that to a daughter when she’s legally an adult? I’m sure he could. But a straitjacket and a padded room would be better than being a Bianchi. Better than serving out a life sentence with a man I hate because he made me a fool.

  “I already told you. Money.”

  I turn to see Matteo is still leaning up against the wall by the door. His black eyes, that match his father’s, drop to my chest again and then my stomach. I wrap my arms around myself, hating how exposed I am. I should have changed while I was in my room.

  A firm hand grabs my upper arm, spinning me around. I look up to see Luca glaring down at me. He shrugs out of his leather jacket and places it over my shoulders. I quickly shove my arms into the warm sleeves, thankful for the cover even if it does swallow me. My eyes fall to the gun holster that rests on his shoulders and the black .380 that sits in its place. I’m not afraid of guns because I was raised around them. My father is always carrying and so is my mother. Plus, being so close to the Bianchis, they always had bodyguards around who were armed.

  I have the thought of taking it from him to shoot his father with it, but where would that get me? Luca doesn’t love me. He has proven time and time again that his loyalty does not lie with me. And as much as I hate him right now, I don’t want to die.

  “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” My father claps his hands, and I jump at the sound.

  “Yes, I must be getting back to New York,” Luca’s father agrees. As much business as John Bianchi does here, he hates being in Vegas. He has men here, like Luca, who take care of his shit for him. Luca runs the show, and Matteo plays a close second. “The party to announce the engagement will be this Friday. At Luca’s.”

  That’s in two days.

  “And the wedding will be in two weeks,” he adds. “It will be held at St. Mary’s Cathedral, and the reception will be here.”

  “No one will believe it,” I whisper, my throat tightening.

  “Oh, they will.” His father nods once. “Because if not, there will be consequences.”

  My knees threaten to buckle at his threat. It was delivered so calmly, sweetly even, but I know he’s serious. The man is known for slaughtering people. His family has always been in the media. He’s been arrested for murders but never convicted. He either pays them off or keeps his hands clean. Either way, he’s not to be fucked with.

  Luca ushers me over to a black leather chair in front of my father’s desk.

  “I will admit, this is unusual. Most mafioso weddings, the bride is always a virgin.” John gives me a sly grin. “But we are all fully aware that my son popped that cherry years ago.”

  I think I’m gonna be sick.

  My father opens a drawer, and my heart pounds when I see him remove the paperwork from earlier and placeit down on the surface.

  “No.” I jump to my feet. “I won’t do this.”

  “Haven—” Luca begins.

  His father interrupts him, spitting out some Italian I don’t understand. Four years of two different foreign languages and I never took Italian. Luca and I always joked that he would teach me, but we never got around to it.

  Luca snaps something back, and his father squares his shoulders. Then his eyes land on mine. I take a step back.

  “I’ve already signed it,” my father growls. “And so have the Bianchis.”

  A vise grips my chest, and I shake my head. He rounds the desk, picking up the papers, and when I go to turn around and
leave, he grabs my hand, squeezing my fingers together.

  “Ow, Daddy,” I cry out. “You’re hurting me.”

  He yanks me to the desk, and I stumble over my own feet, falling into it. He grips the back of my neck and holds me over it. My palms hit the surface, and I’m gasping for a breath. The tears pricking my eyes keep from being able to read the words on the white paper before me. “Sign it!” my father yells.

  I shake my head. The tears that were clouding my vision fly, but new ones instantly replace them. “I won’t …”

  He places a pen in my left hand and then wraps his hand around mine, crushing my fingers together painfully. I yank it away, and his large wedding ring cuts my finger. I stumble back, holding my hand to my chest.

  My father straightens, and his blue eyes look at me with disappointment. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s never treated me remotely close to this. Why now? Why them?

  “Fine,” he growls, then leans over the table and signs my name for me.

  “That’ll never hold up in court,” I spit at him, my chest constricting from his betrayal.

  “We are the court,” Luca’s father says with a sinister smile.

  I fist my hands, my nails digging into my skin. Angry and fucking broken, I stand here helpless. What did I do for him to give me away so easily? Had he planned this all along?

  I look over at Luca, and he’s glaring at my father’s smug smile. He doesn’t want me. This is his father’s doing. He left me and didn’t plan on coming back. But our fathers got together and devised this insane plan to tie our families. The only question is why? We’re not Mafia. My father isn’t a mob boss. That I know of.

  “Nite.” Luca calls out a name, and I jump back when a man steps out from the shadowy corner.

  Oliver Nite. They call him Silent Nite. He doesn’t speak, not anymore, and I don’t know why he took a vow of silence. How long has he been there? He looks at Luca, his large, muscular arms down by his sides. He’d be really attractive if not for his angry expression and kill-all attitude.

  “Remove Haven from the room,” he orders.

  I have a moment of panic when my throat closes on me. I don’t want to be in here, but I also don’t want to be with Nite either. We were never close. He’s a Bianchi. A killer.

  When I go to protest, Luca’s eyes land on mine, and there’s a challenge in them. To defy him. To force his hand. To give him a chance to prove to the other men in this room that he fucking owns me. My mother taught me to pick my battles, and as I stand in a room with five very powerful men, I know the battles haven’t even begun yet.

  LUCA

  The door shuts as Nite removes Haven from the room.

  I whirl on her dad, my hand wrapping around his throat. I practically throw him down onto his desk. “Luca …”

  I squeeze, taking away his air, and lean over him. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again. Do you understand?”

  His blue eyes narrow up at me. His hands gripping my wrist that holds him captive.

  “Do you understand?” Reaching over with my free hand, I pick up the pen he used to sign her name and stab him in the arm with it and release his neck.

  “You son of a bitch …” He growls as he rolls off the side of the desk. Coughing, he rights himself and yanks the pen free from his upper arm, throwing it onto the desk. It wasn’t much, but it’ll be a reminder. “You little shit!”

  I fist my right hand and swing, the hit knocking him into the bookshelf behind his desk. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he goes limp long enough to fall to the floor. He comes to seconds later, and I grip his suit jacket, hauling his ass to his feet. Getting in his face, I growl, “You handed her over. She no longer belongs to you and no longer answers to you. She is now mine. I will do with her as I see fit, and I will punish her how I see fit. Do you understand me?” I’m shouting. I can feel my pulse jumping in my neck. My body physically shakes with my anger.

  I wanted to rip his fucking hand off when she cried out that he was hurting her. But I had to show some restraint in front of her. My father’s present, and this is just another test. I won’t treat Haven the way he treats my mother. I will stand up for my wife. But I will make sure every motherfucker knows I control her. I own her.

  “Yes,” he finally growls, and I shove him backward.

  I ignore my father’s smug smile and my brother’s cocked eyebrow and storm out of the office.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HAVEN

  Two years ago

  I LIE IN my bed, curled up in a ball. I haven’t moved in hours. I don’t know the time, but the sun has set.

  I’ve done nothing but cry. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. My heart hurts too much.

  Luca left me. He told me he loved me, and that we would run away together, and then he just … poof … was gone. I’ve been calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail. My texts go unanswered. I keep telling myself I need to move on and come to terms with it, but I can’t. I refuse to believe that all this time has been a lie.

  “Haven?” my mother whispers my name, entering my room. “Honey, you need to eat something.”

  “Not hungry.” My voice is hoarse from all the sobbing.

  The bed dips behind me, and I feel her hand on my back. “What can I get you to eat? You’ll feel better if—”

  “He never loved me,” I interrupt her and squeeze my eyes closed.

  “I don’t believe that, and neither do you.”

  I turn over and look up at her. “Then why would he leave me?”

  She sighs, running her hands over my shoulder. “Some things can’t be explained, Haven. The world that Luca lives in is different than most. Maybe, in a way, he thought he was doing what was best for you.”

  “No,” I cry. “Him leaving isn’t what’s best for me.”

  “Come here.” She opens her arms wide, and I get up and crawl into them.

  Hugging her tightly, I cry on her shoulder. I don’t know what hurts more. The fact that he so easily said goodbye, or the fact that I can’t help but still love him.

  _______________

  Present

  From where I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Luca’s car, I look over to see him exit the front door to my parents’ house. He jogs down the stone steps. Once he reaches the bottom, he stops and speaks to Nite, who only nods a few times at whatever Luca is saying before he walks toward the car.

  I quickly wipe the tears from my face, not wanting him to see me like this. So broken. So defeated. I just signed a contract. Well, my father signed it for me, but Luca’s father was right. They are the court. They own this city. They don’t call it Sin City for nothing. The worst part is, I have no idea what was on that contract. And that terrifies me.

  He gets into the car, slamming the door shut, and peels out, causing the tires to squeal on the driveway.

  I sit in the passenger seat of his limited-edition car. He cherishes it. I wish I had eaten breakfast so I could throw up right here and now, but my stomach is empty. My heart shattered.

  It’s time to go home.

  I’ve dreamed of him telling me that before, but it wasn’t because he bought me. It was because he couldn’t live without me. My parents threw me to the wolves, knowing he could rip me to shreds.

  How long has he been sitting on this? How long has he known he was gonna show up at my father’s house today and have my mother pack my things and remove me from the house?

  A while.

  Luca never does anything without thinking it through first. He’s been trained to think of every possible outcome. Every option. He was designed to get the most out of every situation. A part of me knows I can’t blame him. It’s not his fault his father is a Don. And he is to follow in his footsteps.

  We remain silent in the car, except for his radio. “Devil’s in the Backseat” by Lostboycrow plays, and with every second that passes, my heart grows more heavy.

  He comes to a stop, pressing a button on his dash, and the black wroug
ht-iron gate pushes open. We pull forward, and I see the mansion he calls home before us.

  It’s everything I ever wanted and everything that I despise at the same time. He drives underneath the breezeway that connects the house to the five-car detached garage, then pulls around the circular driveway in the back. A pool sits off to the left in front of a pool house.

  He gets out and walks around to open my door, but I jump out before he can get to it. No need to pretend to be a gentleman.

  He reaches for my hand. I go to yank away, but he’s faster. His grip tightens, and I flinch. He pulls me under the back porch, and I look over the lawn furniture that takes up the large space. It’s a cream color with burnt orange throw pillows. A hammock sits over in the corner tied off to two big palm trees. It has a state-of-the-art full-size kitchen with a brick fireplace. Only the best when it comes to a Bianchi.

  He shoves the glass door open, and we enter the house. I take a quick look around. I’ve been here a thousand times. His father bought him this place after he graduated high school, which was convenient for us. It’s not like we had to hide our relationship before. His father didn’t care, and my mother turned a blind eye to my sex life. She liked to think it didn’t exist, and my father never seemed to disapprove. Now I’m wondering if this is why. Did he and Luca’s dad have this planned all along?

  I would stay over, and when I’d wake, he would already be gone for the day. I would pretend I was his wife and run around the house in his T-shirt. It was a dream I desperately wanted to come true.

  Careful what you wish for. Your dream can quickly become your worst nightmare.

  He opens his bedroom door, and the moment he releases my hand, I come to a stop.

  “Your things will be delivered soon.” His words are flat, but they cut me like a knife. He’s so cold. And I can feel his anger. “You have your own closet …”

  “I’m not putting my things in here.” I finally find my voice.