Mafia Don’s Little Silent Wife Chapter 06

Mafia Don’s Little Silent Wife Chapter 06

From that day on, I stationed someone by Bianca’s side.

On the surface, she was a female assistant.

In reality, she was a trained female guard from Vincent’s crew.

Bianca adapted to it well.

She occasionally went to the charity home with her, visited the kids, bought flowers, and went shopping.

Life settled back into a peaceful routine for a while.

By the seventh month, a small incident occurred.

That day, I was holding a meeting in my study with a few capos to discuss rearranging the layout of the docks.

The door wasn’t fully closed.

Bianca walked in with a fruit platter, set it down, and left.

Standard procedure.

But after the meeting, Vincent stayed behind alone.

His expression looked off.

“Don, there’s something I’m not entirely sure about.”

“Speak.”

“During the meeting, when Donna set down the fruit platter…” Vincent hesitated. “When you mentioned that Costa might move on those eastern warehouses, Donna’s hand paused.”

I looked up at him.

“It was very brief,” Vincent said. “But I definitely saw it. Her fingers tightened for a split second before she stabilized the platter.”

I leaned back in my chair, staying silent.

“Could’ve been my imagination,” he added.

“Yeah,” I replied.

I gave a casual answer, but I noted it down in my mind.

In the days that followed, I began to pay closer attention.

It wasn’t an intentional interrogation, just a few extra glances.

I started noticing things I had previously overlooked.

For instance, when I took phone calls in the living room with my back turned to her, she couldn’t see my lips.

Yet every time I hung up from an irritating call, she would bring out a cup of tea within five minutes.

If she truly couldn’t hear a thing, how did she know I had ended the call?

More importantly, how did she know I was annoyed?

Another time, a wall adjacent to the estate was undergoing repairs, and the sound of the electric drill was incredibly loud.

I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone while she sat opposite me reading a book.

The exact second the drilling suddenly started, her shoulders twitched.

The movement was minuscule.

If I hadn’t been observing her closely over those few days, I never would have caught it.

A completely deaf person wouldn’t have that kind of reaction to a sudden burst of drilling.

My gut clenched.

That night, she was washing dishes in the kitchen.

The water was rushing loudly.

I stood behind her without making a sound.

She kept washing her dishes.

In a very soft, barely audible whisper, I said, “Bianca.”

She didn’t react.

I said it a second time, using a normal speaking volume. “Bianca.”

She still didn’t move.

I waited for a few seconds and was just about to turn away when she shut off the faucet.

She turned around to look at me.

I stared at her.

“How did you know I was here?”

She pointed to the stainless steel kettle sitting next to the sink.

Its polished surface perfectly reflected the shadow behind her.

It was entirely reasonable.

I nodded.

But as I walked out of the kitchen, I replayed the sequence in my head.

The timing of her shutting off the faucet happened exactly after the second time I called her name.

If she had really discovered me through the reflection, why didn’t she turn around immediately?

Why did she happen to turn off the water right after I called her a second time?

That delay was simply too precise.