Page 4 of Vows of Silence

Isabelle:Can we get back to my original question, please? What do you know about Adrien?

I waited for a response, seeing the chat bubble appear and disappear numerous times.

Isabelle:Please, Luca. None of this makes any sense to me. You must know something. You must have researched.

“Absolutely not,” I replied to one of the maids as she held up a red dress for me to inspect.

Not my style at all.

I looked back down at my phone, only to see that Luca’s response was to send me the Wikipedia article on the Vescari family.

Isabelle:Ha, ha. That was so incredibly helpful. I never thought of using the internet before.

Luca:You’re welcome. Also, good call staying away from that red dress. It looks cheap.

Isabelle:Learn what sarcasm is. And turn the cameras off, freak!

I slammed my phone down on the table with more force than was necessary and took a deep, calming breath.

It was clear that no one was going to give me the answers I needed. Why, in this day and age, had my father entered me into an arranged marriage? Why had he chosen Adrien, a billionaire tycoon with the world at his feet? He clearly had no problem getting the attention of women, and if the gossip rags were to be believed, he had a new girlfriend every other week. So what use did he have for me?

Why had my mother, who had often complained about losing her own freedom to an arranged marriage, agreed to such a thing for her daughter?

And why had she looked so goddamn scared at the thought of displeasing Mr I-Need-A-Wife Vescari?

Because nobody should be that afraid of a man they were about to welcome into the family.

Chapter 2

The Flame

“Did you find a dress you liked, darling?” My dad asked, directing his question at me as he sliced into his lamb chop.

“You’d need to ask Mum,” I responded, barely looking up from my dinner.

“Me?” my mother said with a false tinkling laugh. “It’s your dress. I merely offered… suggestions.”

Luca:Might Isuggestthat your mother goes and fucks herself?

I smothered a laugh, tightening my lips to the point of pain and biting down on my inner cheeks. I had the phone propped up on my knee under the table, and was enjoying Luca’s commentary on our dinner antics.

I don’t know what that said about me that I felt more comfortable with this stranger than my own family, but that’s the shift my relationships had taken. My parents no longer represented comfort and security, and Luca no longer felt like the stranger he once was.

Truthfully, he hadn’t felt like a stranger since that first text asking why I was crying.

“Let the girl pick her own dress, Sophie,” my dad said with a hearty chuckle.

Luca:Yeah, let her pick her own dress, Sophie. It’s the least you can do considering she didn’t get to pick her own man.

“I never said she couldn’t pick her own dress,” she replied, looking offended. “I simply advised her not to pick certain ones.”

“You advised me not to pick themallapart from the one you liked,” I said, shooting my dad a discreet little smile. Every time the engagement had been mentioned, he always looked… shifty. Never quite meeting my eyes. But tonight, he was in an exceptional mood. So much so that he even shot me a small wink in return, and I felt myself sitting up straighter, preening under his attention.

Pathetic.

“Can I help it if fashion is simply dying as of late?” she replied, rolling her eyes at me.

“Speaking of late,” a playful voice called from the hallway, followed by the tall figure of my big brother entering the family room. “I hope I’m not in too much trouble, Mummy?” he teased our mother, placing a kiss on her cheek and winking in my direction.