Page 117 of Silenced

Or would she be ashamed of me—

“So, you’re the reason why the Pakhan’s transferred here, slut.”

The words have me jolting as each one lands like a bullet.

Turning around, I find a man standing by the French doors in yet another expensive suit—they’re starting to lose their appeal—with a sneer on his aristocratic features.

His accent, never mind his clothes, tells me he’s one of Nikolai’s men without even knowing that there’s a meeting taking place somewhere on the grounds.

Unease hits me when I glance around and spy how alone I am out here.

Vladimir and Oleg’s absence suddenly feels less about sweet treats and more about permitting me to be ambushed.

I know enough about aggressive men to recognize that I’m in danger from the expression on this stranger’s face alone.

The way his hands are bunched into fists at his sides, that hostile snarl of his lips…

Somehow, I’ve angered him but I’ve never seen him before.

“Do I know you?” I ask quietly.

It takes everything in me not to retreat.

The balls I have when I’m with Nikolai fade into nothingness. My heart starts to pound, and I can feel the prickles in my muscles as my flight-or-fight response kicks in.

All of a sudden, I’m back in the kitchen in Jersey.

Cowering against the cupboard, crouched into a ball as Harvey kicks me.

Over and over and over again.

“No, but I know you,” the stranger growls, surging forward a few steps. “I saw your marks on him, whore. So close to the gala too. You know he’s taken, don’t you? Did you do it to humiliate my daughter?”

As terrified as I am, a bark of laughter escapes me. “Nikolaiisn’ttaken.”

No way, no how.

“Nikolai?” His face turns impossibly redder. “You dare say his name. Watch your mouth, slut! He is our Pakhan.”

Standing my ground, I swallow. “I’m not a slut.”

“You’re fucking a man who’s engaged to my little girl,” he snaps, hands still bunched. “What else does that make you other than ablyad?”

I flinch when he storms nearer to me.

Tunnel vision takes over.

My panic is real and raw and there’s an internal wail in my head:Nikolai promised me that I’d be safe.

Even worse, I believed him.

As I hunch, more distraught at his lie than what’s about to happen, as I start to crouch in on myself, I stagger back a step, needing to get away.

Mind darting around what I know of the estate, I figure the quickest place to head is the pool area. If Vladimir and Olegarein on this, then the kitchen won’t be a safe space and I already know that the staff might as well be ghosts for all the help they’ll offer me.

His hand flies out and I cringe, bracing myself for impact, but… it doesn’t land.

If anything,heis the one crying out with surprised pain. He drops to his knees as fists pound him, as a hand slams his head into the graveled path, and that’s when Nikolai surges into my tunnel vision.

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