SWNOVELS Code of Silence: Chapter 6
I STAND IN the middle of the ballroom at Luca’s. He stands to my right, my father to my left. They both have smiles on their faces and laugh at the stupid jokes the men say.
I feel numb, completely and utterly numb. I’ve thought of taking one of the butter knives that the waiters carry around on their trays and stabbing myself in the chest just to see if I feel it. I wonder how long it takes a person to bleed out? Maybe my best option would be to go for a wrist. Would they be quick enough to stop me? Would they be smart enough to stop the bleeding? Most likely. Everyone knows to put pressure on a wound. But if I could cut it deep enough …
I’ve never contemplated suicide until tonight. But I have come to a point in my life when that may be the only way out. Death has always been this black cloud hovering over us all, but at this point, it may be my saving grace.
It’s our engagement party. The announcement of our engagement. Luca’s mansion is full of reporters, mob bosses, the Mafia, and my father’s clients. Complete strangers to me.
Jasmine isn’t here ’cause I haven’t spoken to her. And I haven’t had a chance to try to call Emilee again. I’m all alone.
“Haven?” Luca growls my name in my ear and tightens his hand on my hip. He’s had me glued to his side all night, showing me off like a trophy he won. “Mr. Ronald asked you a question.”
I blink. “I’m so sorry.” And fake a smile. I feel my face may crack due to how tight it is.
The man with the biggest gap I’ve ever seen between his teeth looks straight at my tits. I’m not surprised. Mrs. Brown did my hair and makeup, then dressed me in a pink Chanel dress that zips up the back. It comes up high on my neck like a noose but has a keyhole front, dipping low to show off my cleavage.
The dress Luca bought for me. I no longer have any say on how I look or what I wear.
Luca controls me. I’m his puppet. His toy. Something to show off in a forty-thousand-dollar dress. When he saw me, he said I looked absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. It makes me look like a fucking hooker. Not that I’m judging them. Just wish I was getting something out of this.
Mr. Ronald clears his throat, and the guy lifts his eyes from my chest. “Yes, my dear. I just wanted to congratulate you.” He holds out his right hand.
Thoughtlessly, I reach out and shake it. “Thank you.” My voice is monotone. He says a few more words to Luca and then walks away. My shoulders instantly sag.
“Can you be more … believable?” My father huffs, straightening his suit jacket.
My chest tightens at his words. What did I do to deserve this? Have I made him ashamed? Is this his way of forcing me to make something of my life? Or a way to further his career? He’s very successful. I thought he and Mr. Bianchi put this together, but Luca told me earlier today that it was all him. But it has to be more than that. My father wouldn’t throw me away like I’m nothing unless he had a hand in it.
“I need a drink,” I say, pulling away from between them.
“Nonalcoholic,” Luca warns.
I keep my expression blank, but I’m screaming at him on the inside. Lifting the hem of my dress off the floor, I make my way down the long hallway to the formal dining area. I pass through it to the back and look around before I push open the revolving door to the commercial-size kitchen.
Workers run around with trays in their hands. Cooks are standing at the massive grills. And there’s an assembly line of people preparing plates. I walk through, and nobody even gives me a glance, too busy with keeping up with Luca’s demanding orders. Shoving the back door open, I walk down the long and dark narrow hallway, looking over my shoulder to make sure I’m not followed. I come to the end and turn the handle. Closing it softly behind me, I flip the light switch that I know is on the wall, which lights up the staircase and room below.
I lift my dress once again and walk down the stairs, my heels clicking on the wood. I smile once I hit the landing. Going over to the bottles of wine, I pick the one I want and then turn to the cabinet that has a wine opener. After opening it, I don’t even bother to look for a glass. I tip back the bottle and down it like it’s a shot, not even caring that it’s warm.
I don’t know how much time passes before I push myself up off the floor, toss the now empty bottle into the trash, and fumble up the stairs. I trip twice on my dress. Opening the door, I’m much less quiet as I make my way back down the hall and back through the kitchen to the party. No one pays me any attention, though. I’m not the reason they’re here. All four hundred people are here for Luca. For his future. For his business. I’m no one. Nothing. But that’s how women are treated in this world. The Mafia is an exclusive men’s club. The women stay home and raise the children, most of the time in a Catholic upbringing. I know nothing about the religion. I’ve never even entered a church because my parents aren’t religious. Is he going to make me do research? Or make his mother teach me? Was that mentioned in the contract that I didn’t read?
“Haven?”
I stop in my tracks at the sound of her voice. My mother. The woman who has successfully avoided me.
I turn to see her approaching me in a champagne-colored sleeveless Burberry dress. Her bleach blond hair is up in a tight bun, showcasing her delicate neck and the pearls my father gave her for Christmas last year. She looks stunning, as always, and for the first time in my life, I feel nothing but hatred toward her. Where was she when my father signed my name to the contract? Where was she when Nite removed me from my parents’ house? And where has she been for the past couple of days while I’ve been a prisoner here?
She brings her hands up to her face and gasps as she looks me up and down. “You look beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” She reaches out for my hand, but I take a stumbling step back from her. And her perfectly painted on face falls as if I hurt her feelings. “Haven, I—”
“I don’t care,” I interrupt her, then hiccup.
Her green eyes fall to my left hand, and she stares at the rock on my finger. She flinches as if it hurts her to see. She should put herself in my shoes, then maybe she would know how much it hurts to wear it. “Haven, please let me explain.”
“How you let Daddy sell me?” She flinches at my slurred speech. “No thanks.”
Her eyes dart around the room to see if anyone heard me, but I highly doubt those in attendance believe I chose this. “Haven, please …?”
“Go home, Mother.” I turn, giving her my back. Walking out of the formal dining room, I head down the hallway to the back of his house where the bedroom I’ve been staying in is at. I have nothing to say to her. What my father did hurt, but my mother didn’t even try to save me. Not once has she tried to call me in the two days I’ve been here. That I know of. Now Luca has my phone. She let me go. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. She was supposed to protect me. Love me. Instead, she let him throw me away.
“Haven. Well, don’t you look every bit the part of a princess.”
I stiffen as I come face to face with Brad. He’s Bones and Grave’s father. He used to run Kingdom until his sons and their friends were old enough to take over the empire. He’s the only living member of the Three Wisemen who created Kingdom.
His blue eyes look me up and down in a way that makes me step back. I never liked him. He’s dirty, evil just like the rest of them. He uses women. All he cares about is how much money he can make and who will fall to their knees and suck his dick.
He leans in, giving me a smile. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that this isn’t the fairy tale you wanted.”
Without saying a word, I narrow my eyes and shoulder past him. I just want to be alone. Locked inside my bedroom where no one can bother me. Continuing down the hallway, I come to a stop when Luca’s office door opens, and a woman steps out. Before she has a chance to see me, I duck into a nearby half bathroom, watching her through the thin crack in the door, hiding my body behind it. She runs her hands down her black form-fitting dress, shoving it down her long legs. But it doesn’t cover much. She’s dressed more for a night out on the town. Then she steps up to the large mirror that hangs on the hall and fixes her wild, bleach blond hair. It’s knotted around the crown. Like someone’s fist was in it. She opens her clutch and reapplies her crimson lipstick, before popping her lips. I look over her arms and see red marks have formed on her pale skin. Fingerprints. She looks herself over one last time and then turns.
I move away from the door, hoping she doesn’t see me. Placing my hand over my mouth, I hold my breath so she can’t hear me as I listen for her heels on the hardwood as she passes my hiding place.
I wait for her to walk off, and I look out the cracked door. Once I see I’m alone, I yank it open, storm down the hall, and all but kick his office door open.
A large TV hangs on the far wall above a fireplace. Over to the right sits his desk. He has some papers scattered across the surface. I walk across the room, my heels digging into the thick black rug. I sit down and read them over. My eyes are a tad blurry from the alcohol swirling around in my system, but something catches my eyes on the third page. I recognize it. It’s the paperwork where my father signed my name. There’s a blood stain through the middle of Haven.
This isn’t a marriage. It’s a contract signed in blood.
I read over it, trying to comprehend it. With blurry vision, it’s hard to understand, but one word catches my attention. Heirs.
My hands begin to shake as I blink to focus.
The wife in question will produce three living heirs. Two of which must be sons.
All cases after that will be up to Luca’s discretion.
What the fuck does that mean?
I place the papers on the desk, my head falling into my hands. My eyes drop to the small black trash can under his desk. Something catches my eye, and I pick up the small container. “What the fuck …?” I whisper.
My blood begins to boil, and my heart pounds. I hear the lock to the adjoining bathroom click, and then Luca steps out. He comes to a stop when he spots me. My eyes immediately drop to his black slacks. His belt is undone along with his pants and his white button-down is untucked. His black-tie hangs loosely around his neck.
“What are you doing in here?” he asks, his eyes narrowing when they drop to the papers.
“What were you doing in here?” I snap, unable to hold my tongue.
“Haven ….”
“Explain this!” I shout, dumping the trashcan upside down and allowing the contents to scatter on his desk. We’ll get back to the paperwork later. Right now, we’re not even having sex, let alone having children, but he’s fucking someone. The freshly used condom falls onto the contract. Might as well mix some cum with that bloody signature. “You were just fucking her in here!” I scream.
That’s why the blonde was in his office. She fixed herself in the mirror while he freshened up in his bathroom.
My breath quickens, heart races, and my hands clench. I shouldn’t be mad. Or jealous. I don’t want to be his, not like this. But like my father said, the deal is done. The bloodstained signature that sits underneath the used condom proves that.
A smirk grows across his face as if this is some kind of joke. “I left you a present.” He goes to reach into his unzipped slacks. “I know how much you like to lick me clean.”
My entire body stiffens at what he’s implying. I want to fucking stab him in the eyes, but this is how he was raised. This is what his life has taught him about how women should be treated, but I won’t do it. “I’m not a Mafia whore,” I spit out. “I will not be some fucking trophy for you to parade around in public while you fuck around behind my back.” I pick up a glass paperweight and throw it at his head, cussing when I miss him by a mile. Damn drunk aim. I would have been spot-on if I was sober.
His eyes darken, jaw sharpens, and chest bows. I take a step back from his desk. He reaches out, grabbing the netting on my dress, and yanks me forward, making my chest bump into his. “You’re mine,” he growls in my face.
I begin to tremble as his words penetrate my foggy brain.
“I own every inch of you now.”
“I hate you,” I croak out.
He releases me and runs his knuckles down the side of my face. I whimper at his soft touch, waiting for him to hit me. Do whatever he wants with me to beat me into submission. His eyes drill into mine. “Would you rather it had been you bent over that desk?”
“I will never willingly lie down for you again.” I lift my chin even though I want to burst into tears.
His knuckles run lower, tracing my jaw and then my neck. I know he can feel my pulse race. Fuck, I’m panting with fear. Mafia men only marry for one reason; a baby. An heir. We may have talked about marriage in the past, but we never discussed children. And that paperwork proves he’s thought of everything. I should have seen it and realized it sooner. He doesn’t love me. He never did. He just wants to use me. “I won’t give you a family.”
He grips my hair and yanks my head back. I cry out, but his other hands lifts, wrapping around my throat and cutting off my air.
I begin to panic and tear at his shirt. But he spins me around where my back is to his front, holding me in place. I gasp for a single breath but get nothing.
He lowers his lips to my ear. “You will give me as many children as I want. You were born to fucking breed, and that’s exactly what you will do. You’ll give me an army of men who I will train to run this world. Just as I was.”
He shoves me forward, my heels getting caught in the netting of my dress, and I fall to the black rug. My fingers dig into the thick fibers as tears run down my face, and I choke out a sob. Turning, I look up at him. He’s in the process of zipping up his pants when I manage to say, “I won’t do it.” I shake my head. “I won’t allow you to do that to an innocent child.” I scream the last part, but my voice breaks. “And a girl …” I sob. Dear Lord, what if I have a girl? Would she see the same fate I have? I will never pack up her things and ship her off to live with a monster. Not as my mother did to me.
He smirks, reading my thoughts like they’re written all over my face. “You know my mother gave birth to a girl before me.”
My eyes widen. “But … you don’t have any sisters.”
“My father took her out back and threw her into the pool.”
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. I wait for him to tell me that he’s joking, but he doesn’t. And deep down, I know it’s true. Tears spill from my eyes, and my hatred for Mr. Bianchi grows. I always knew that man was sick. How could you hurt an innocent child?
“The word was my mom cried for days, weeks, even months after he killed her firstborn. I was born ten months later. Then she was gifted with Matteo. Then my twin brothers. But that wasn’t enough. My father wanted one more son. Well, I was six when another girl came along. I stood outside their bedroom door and listened to the baby cry when she delivered. My mother instantly started bawling. She knew the child’s fate would be the same as her first daughter. But she begged my father not to kill her.” He kneels in front of me. “Do you know what she said?”
I just stare up at him through watery eyes.
“She said, ‘Let me keep her. I’ll train her to be a lady, so she can be useful to you as a woman.’”
My body begins to shake, and I swallow that knot that forms in my throat.
“You see, Haven, we all play a role in this life, and a woman is very useful if she knows her place.” Then he stands, turns, and walks out of his office.
Leaving the threat hanging in the air.
LUCA
I walk down the hallway, nodding to guests and shaking hands with a smile on my face.
Fuck them all!
I invited then to show off my bride-to-be, so they can see how powerful I am with her. My father looks at my mother like she is nothing, a toy to use, and I don’t want that with Haven. No matter how hard on her I am, or what I say to her, I want her to run this city with me. I want her to be the Mafia wife my father always wanted but never got, and I know she can do it. No matter how much she fights it right now, she will be the best damn thing I ever do.
Walking out onto the back terrace, I spot the Kings standing over by the pool.
“Nice party,” Bones says, lifting his glass of champagne as I approach.
“Thanks for coming, Kings.”
“I never pass up free booze,” Titan replies. “Or a hot piece of ass,” he adds, his eyes glued to a brunette walking by us. Without saying another word, he follows her.
“Grave? May I speak to you for a moment?” I ask.
He nods, stepping away from the guys, and we make our way over to the other end of the pool. The white lights floating on top of the calm water give off a soft glow along with the strand of white lights hung from one end of the patio to the other. I wanted to make this place as pretty as possible for Haven, but I don’t even think she’s been out here to see it.
“Did it work?” he asks immediately once we’re out of earshot.
“Yep,” I answer, sliding my hand into my pocket and pulling out a baggie. “Thanks for the help and make sure to share with Lucy.”
He places it in his pocket and chuckles. “Anytime.”
_______________
The party has started to die down. Checking my Rolex watch, I see it’s a little after eleven p.m. I haven’t seen Haven since she found me with my pants undone in my office. And no one has bothered to ask me where my future wife went. To most of these men, women are insignificant. To them, her absence is just her way of obeying my commands. As though I ordered her to go and wait naked in our bed until I was ready to fuck her.
“Nice play, Luca.” My father slaps me on the back. He looks to the left as Bones walks past us. He smiles to himself, conjuring up a plan in his mind. He wants Kingdom, and he knows exactly what to do to get it. “I look forward to this business plan of yours.” He’s referring to my marriage. And I’ll die before I allow him to fuck it up. “But I still think Maria would have been a nice fit to the Bianchi family.”
I fist my hands at his words but give him a smile. I’ve been trained to stay silent when you don’t agree with him. “Where is Mother?” I ask, changing the subject.
“She left earlier.” He tips back his champagne flute and eyes one of the waitresses who works for the catering service I hired for the evening. She’s currently talking to Titan who is eye fucking her. “Wasn’t feeling well.”
I bet she wasn’t. She doesn’t want me to marry Haven. She’s disappointed in me and felt that such a sweet girl deserved better. I don’t disagree with her.
“I got a call last night,” he says. “Heard that Rossi’s wedding chapel was hit. And Anthony is missing.” Diaz’s son.
Matteo snorts from beside him. “They won’t find a body.”
“I did what needed to be done,” I offer.
I expect my father to argue, but instead, he just takes another drink.
“I’m off to bed,” I tell him and turn to Nite who walks up next to us. “Kick everyone out and clean it all up,” I order.
He gives me a curt nod.
I make my way upstairs to the master suite. I enter, not surprised when I don’t see Haven in our bed. But she’s mistaken if she thinks I’ll let her ignore me tonight. I’ve allowed her to sleep downstairs for two nights now. That’s more than enough.
I undo my tie and rip it out from the collar of my white button-down. Laying it over the chair that sits in front of the bay window, I undo my shirt and shove it off my shoulders and then head into our en suite bathroom.
Opening the door, I find her standing by the whirlpool tub in the corner of the bathroom. She lets out a growl as she tries to reach around and undo the zipper on her dress.
“Would you like some assistance?” I ask.
She spins around to face me. Her watery brown eyes narrow on me, but she says nothing.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Lie.
“Get out,” she orders, then goes back to trying to reach the zipper again.
“Let me help you.” I walk across the bathroom, but she shoves me back when I get close.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” she shouts, looking me up and down with disgust. “You think I’d let you come near me after you fucked that whore?”
She’s drunk.
I know it. She knows it. I told her no alcohol, but I know she spent an hour down in the wine cellar. Nothing happens in this house that I’m not aware of. I could have stopped her, but I chose not to. A bottle of wine wasn’t going to hurt her. And I needed the time to put my plan into action.
“Do you really think I fucked another woman in my office at our engagement party?”
“I know what I saw.” She seethes, slapping me across the face before heading for the door. Stomping the heels of her Jimmy Choos so hard that I fear they may break.
“You saw what I wanted you to see,” I say calmly, feeling my cheek throb from her hand. It wasn’t as hard as it could have been. The alcohol’s making her weaker, but I like the way it feels. It tells me that she cares.
She slowly turns to face me. She blinks. Once. Twice. I can see the words turning in her mind. The shock evident on her face. “No,” she says roughly and shakes her head.
Fuck, I wanna bend her over the counter and fuck her from behind. It’s been too long since I’ve had her. Felt her. Heard her scream my name. I want to remind her what I do to her. How I made her feel. We can get past this, if only she would let it go.
“I saw her … the blonde, walk out of your office, then fix her hair and makeup. Then you came out of your bathroom with your pants unzipped.” She swallows. “The used condom … you even confessed you fucked her.”
I shake my head. “I did no such thing.”
“Luca …”
“I made you believe that I fucked her because that’s what I wanted you to think.”
Her shoulders begin to shake. “Why?” she croaks out, and a tear runs down her face.
“For this reason, right here. To prove that you still love me.” I walk over to her, and she doesn’t pull away when I reach up and cup her wet cheek.
“I don’t love you,” she whispers, biting her bottom lip.
“Lie,” I say, dropping my hand lower to grip her hip. Deep down, she knows I’d never hurt her. Not like that. I have loved this woman for as long as I can remember. How can she think that would just go away? That I could ever walk away from her if it wasn’t for a good reason? Haven isn’t the kind of woman you forget. She’s the kind you never stop thinking about. She’s in your daily thoughts and even in your dreams.
She sniffs. “Why would you do this?”
I sigh. “I needed to know that what we have is real.”
She shoves me away, her face growing hard. “This isn’t fucking real. You’re forcing me to marry you. And this fucking dress …” She trails off, her hands trying to reach the zipper, but it’s too high.
I spin her around, grip the expensive fabric, and rip it apart. The soft pink lace gives way along with the seam. She gasps as it falls to pool at her feet.