Heir To Silence. Book 1 The Pact of Blood Series

Father announces it over dinner like it’s already settled.

“Your birthday is coming,” he says, folding his napkin with quiet satisfaction. “And you deserve to be celebrated.”

I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Celebrated how?”

“Properly,” he replies. “With people. With music. With life.”

Marco scoffs. “You’ve never thrown us a party.”

Antonio nods once. “Not once.”

Father waves a hand dismissively. “You boys are impossible to surprise.”

I smile despite myself.

“And,” father adds, looking at me now, his voice softening, “you’re my baby. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Aww, dad,” I say automatically, getting up to hug him.

He laughs, squeezing me tight.

The rest of the dinner passes easily. Laughter. Teasing. The kind of noise that makes the house feel less like a fortress and more like a home.

Later that night, I curl up on my bed and stare at my phone.

I’ve been avoiding it all evening.

Ethan’s name sits unread in my messages, patient in a way that makes my chest tighten.

I press call.

He answers immediately.

“Finally,” he says. “I was starting to think you’d joined a cult.”

“I kind of did,” I reply. “But it’s a family thing.”

He laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, meaning it more than I expected. “I just… a lot happened really fast.”

“I figured.” His voice softens. “You don’t have to explain everything.”

Relief washes through me.

“I’m in Italy,” I say. “With family I didn’t really know.”

“That’s very you,” he says. “Disappear dramatically. Reappear internationally.”

I smile. “My birthday’s coming up.”

“Oh my god,” he says. “You’re turning twenty one in Italy?”

“Apparently I’m getting a party whether I want one or not.”

“As you should.”

We talk easily after that. About New York. About how strange it feels to miss things you didn’t realize mattered. He tells me about a guy he’s been seeing. Casual. Sweet. Nothing serious yet.

“I might bring him to Italy,” he says lightly. “If you don’t mind.”

I pause, then laugh. “I think that would actually make everything more confusing. So yes. Please do.”

He laughs too. “I miss you.”

“I miss you,” I say quietly. We stay on the phone long after the house goes silent. Trading memories. Filling in gaps. Letting the distance shrink until it feels manageable again.

When we finally hang up, the sky outside my window is starting to lighten.

I lie back on my bed, exhausted and calm in a way I haven’t felt since New York.

My phone buzzes once more.

A message from Alessia.

Alessia: So. Birthday party. Italy. Dangerous men. I’m guessing I’m invited?

I smile.

Me: You’re required.

I set the phone aside and close my eyes.

For the first time since arriving, I’m not thinking about control or danger or games I don’t understand.

Just candles. Music. Faces I’m learning to recognize.

And the quiet, strange comfort of knowing that for one night, at least, the world will revolve around me.