Silence And Submission (Editing)

Uncle Vincentè

I was torn between going after Antonio and staying back with uncle Vincentè. I still couldn't believe everything Antonio said was true. Uncle Vincentè might have been a strange man and a bit bitter towards me but he wasn't a traitor. He couldn't be. He'd saved my father more than once and he'd defended me when his brother demanded my blood. No. I refuse to believe Antonio not until I heard a confession from the mouth of uncle Vincentè himself.

I was scared the mean looking guards wouldn't let me back in without Antonio's express command so I tore off a piece of my night gown and started to wipe of the blood from his face.

It didn't do much but it calmed my nerves.

"Mistress," one of the guards said, "you don't have to do this. We can send for one of the maids to clean him up."

"After you've torn him to shreds, you expect me to believe that you would care for him?" I asked.

"You misunderstand us, mistress," the taller guard said, "we do not care for him. We only want to help you. You seem determined to clean him up and as the Don's woman, we can't allow you to do it yourself."

"It doesn't matter. I'll send for them myself. But tell me. How did you find him? My family estate is well guarded."

"We can't tell you," the taller guard said.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Matteo," he answered.

"And you?" I asked the other guard.

"T," he answered.

I frowned. "T?"

"His name is soft," Matteo said, smirking.

"Shut the fuck up, Matteo," T growled.

"What do you mean 'soft'?"

"His name's Tracey, Mistress."

I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Tracey? Really?"

"My mother was obsessed with the name."

"Isn't that a bit girly?" I asked, standing up. Uncle Vincentè was starting to regain consciousness. I straightened what was left of my nightgown and walked back a few steps.

"Uncle," I said softly when he groaned and opened his eyes.

"Irene?" He said. His voice cracked as he spoke. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked you a fucking question."

"You don't get to ask questions. You're here to answer mine." I breathed in deep. "What do you know about my father's death?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let me frame my question well. Did you kill my father?"

"Are you listening to those idiots? Why the fuck would I kill my own brother?"

"I wouldn't know. Power? With him gone you'll be at the helm of affairs."

"But I still wouldn't be the boss. Paulo is the don now. Not me."

"Or maybe you were envious. Envy can make even the best of men the worst of creatures. You've always wanted my mother. With him dead you'ld finally have your wish."

"Think. Use your head for once. I admit that I've always loved your mother but a woman like your mother doesn't move from one dead husband to another. Ask yourself now. Where is she?"

"But why is Antonio accusing you?"

"I have nothing to hide, Irene. But maybe he does." He leaned back in the old uncomfortable looking chair and grinned despite the blood staining his teeth and open wounds on his face.