All Chapters of The Silence Of His Vows: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

LUNA POV: The study smells of cigars and old leather. I stand in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of me, eyes fixed on the Persian rug beneath my feet. My father sits behind his massive mahogany desk, fingers steepled, watching me the way someone might appraise livestock. I don’t look up. I learned years ago that looking up is dangerous. The silence stretches. He’s good at that, using quiet as a weapon, letting it press down until the air feels too thick to breathe. Finally, he speaks. “Vincenzo Moretti has accepted my proposal.” My breath catches. My fingers tighten against each other until my knuckles go white. “You’ll be married within the month,” Father continues, his tone conversational. Like he’s discussing the weather. “The contracts are being finalized. The alliance will secure our family’s position for the next generation.” No. No, please. He stands and walks around the desk slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “You should be grateful, Luna. Moretti

The library was quiet.I sat curled in the window seat, staring at the gardens below without really seeing them. The book beside me lay closed. I couldn't focus.One more day.One more day until the new bodyguard arrived.Rocco stood near the door, one hand resting on his holstered gun. He'd been tense all day. We all had been."Signora," he said suddenly. "Step away from the window."My head snapped up. His expression had changed—alert, focused."Now."I slid off the window seat and moved toward the center of the room, pulse already quickening.Rocco stepped into the doorway, hand on his weapon. "Identify yourselves."No response.Just footsteps. Fast. Multiple people.Then—nothing.The silence was worse.Rocco drew his gun. "Signora, behind the—"They came fast.Too fast.Five men poured into the library like water through a broken dam. Masked. Armed. Moving with mechanical precision.Rocco raised his gun. "Don't—"Two of them grabbed him from behind, slamming him against the bookshe

Dinner was supposed to be at seven. I arrived at six fifty-five, dressed in the pale blue silk dress Father had laid out on my bed. My hands shook as I smoothed the fabric over my lap, sitting in my usual seat at the long mahogany table. The dining hall was enormous. A massive crystal chandelier hung overhead, casting fractured light across the white tablecloth, the gold-rimmed plates, the untouched silverware. And in the corner, standing like a statue carved from shadow, was Volkov. He'd positioned himself near the main exit. Arms loose at his sides. Feet shoulder-width apart. His blue eyes swept the room once, cataloging every entrance, every window, every person. Then they landed on me. I looked down immediately, pulse spiking. He didn't move. Didn't speak. But I felt his gaze like weight pressing down on my shoulders. He's watching. Always watching. Father entered a moment later, already talking, his voice booming and cheerful. "Ah, Luna! Punctual as always. What a good g

The scream woke me at three in the morning.I bolted upright in bed, heart slamming against my ribs.It came again. Distant. Muffled. A woman's voice, high and terrified.Then silence.I sat frozen, barely breathing, listening.Footsteps in the hallway. Fast. Multiple people.Shouting. Men's voices, urgent and sharp.Then nothing.I waited in the darkness, pulse racing, for what felt like hours.Finally, I heard it. A single set of footsteps approaching my door.Heavy. Measured.They stopped outside.A knock. Sharp. Precise."Signorina Luna." Volkov's voice. "Open the door."My hands shook as I climbed out of bed and crossed the room. I unlocked the door and pulled it open.Volkov stood in the hallway, fully dressed despite the hour. His expression was unreadable."There was a security breach," he said. "Remain in your room. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone except myself or your father.""What happened?" I tried to ask with my eyes.He studied me for a moment. "An intruder atte

My ankle had healed enough by the third day. Still tender when I put weight on it, but functional.Volkov cleared me to move through the mansion again.That afternoon, Father summoned him to the study. Business. Something about security protocols for an upcoming meeting."Stay in the sitting room," Volkov told me before he left. "Don't move until I return."I nodded.He disappeared down the hallway, and I was alone.I settled onto the sofa in the sitting room, the same one where he'd tended my ankle. The afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor.The silence was thick. Oppressive.I picked up a book from the side table. Something in Italian that I'd read three times already. I opened it, trying to focus on the words, but they blurred together.Three weeks until the wedding.The thought made my chest tighten.I heard footsteps.Not Volkov's measured, controlled stride.These were different. Casual. Confident.I looked up.Dante stood