Page 161 of Silenced

“Don’t fucking go,Otets,” Dmitri pleads. “Maxim won’t thank you for your intervention and you could get hurt!”

“I would go for you. Whether you thanked me or not. It’s what a father does.”

His mouth tightens, but as the words settle, as their meaning resonates, he graces me with a sharp nod.

This time, I drag him into a hug and it’s me who struggles to let go.

With my attention turned onto business here and Cassiopeia, I hadn’t even heard about the explosion in Moskva until Dmitri told me it was all over the news a few days ago.

I could never have anticipated that it would be the catalyst for the beginning of the end.

39

CASSIE

Lose My Breath - Rhea Robertson

* * *

When Niko showedup in the bedroom and hurried through our shower without shaving me, I knew something was wrong.

It’s weird to use that as a measure, but when your life is out of your control, you find a semblance of it in routine.

When he puts me in a woolen dress, I frown down at it then at the window where the sun is shining brightly. “Do you know something I don’t? Is there a hurricane incoming that I didn’t hear about in the news?”

We’d had a freak scare right after New Year’s, but it had landed in Daytona, not Miami.

“We’re going to Russia.”

My brows lift. “I beg your pardon?”

“We’re going to Russia,” he repeats as he starts to drag clothes from both sides of our closet.

“Why?”

“Business.”

My eyes narrow. “Why are you taking me with you? I don’t even have a passport right now. It’s among my things in my car.”

“You don’t need a passport with me.”

My narrowed eyes widen as I roll them, but I stride over to him and tug on his hand. “Tell me what’s going on, Nikolai, before you start to frighten me.”

He pauses to squeeze my fingers then signs, “You remember I talked about the men who are like my brothers?”

The picture of those young faces with ancient eyes in the safe room rears its ugly head from my memory banks. “Yes. Maxim and Misha.”

“Maxim’s gotten himself into trouble in Moskva.”

“And you’re going to help him?” When he nods, I repeat, “Why are you taking me with you, then? Isn’t it dangerous?”

Nikolai snaps the necks of men who threaten me. Taking me into scenes of active aggression in a country that isn’t exactly friendly with the US seems out of character for him.

“If I side with Maxim, I go against the leaders of the Bratva themselves,” he warns. “If that’s the case, there could be a rebellion here. If there is, your safety isn’t guaranteed. The best way to protect you is for you to be with me.” His hand cups my chin. “I had no means of anticipating that this would happen,solnyshko.” That he speaks the words tells me more than he can know. “I’m sorry.”

Studying his expression, seeing the genuine regret etched there when I’m so used to seeingnothing, I realize I’m not afraid.

I should be.

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