Page 174 of Silenced

With a sigh, Nikolai signs, “My lies are coming back to haunt me.”

Misha frowns. “Which lies?”

“Misha, Cassiopeia Rundel didnotfly away as I told you. She stayed with me.”

I snort.

Misha flashes me a look. “You’reSavannah O’Donnelly’s friend?”

I straighten up a little. “You know her?”

“I’m dating her sister.”

“Ohh, is that why she got you involved? I wondered why the wife of an Irish mobster would call in the Russians for help.”

Though his eyes light up with rage, Misha’s tone is relatively calm as he argues, “What the hell are you trying to do, Nikolai? Ruin ties between us and the Irish? I just had one of the O’Donnelly brothers confirm they’d support Maxim as the new leader of the Russians in the city!”

“Hardly new,” Nikolai signs. “He’s been Pakhan for a while.”

“Of the Bratva.” Misha tips up his chin. “We’re The Forgotten Boys now.”

“Is that supposed to soundPeter Pan-esque?” I mock, but only because he just called me a gold digger.

“No,” he reasons. “It’s about a bunch of boys who were fucking forgotten and won’t be again.”

When Niko’s tension surges, I muse, “Is it a wise time to discuss this? We’re all just waiting for news on Dmitri.”

If I thought he was tense before, that’s nothing to how Niko’s turned to stone beneath me. “There will be no more news.”

“You don’t know that! You have to have hope, Niko,” I chide, squeezing his fingers as I entwine them further with mine.

“Iosif wouldn’t dare give Nikolai hope, and Grigoriy wouldn’t misinform Iosif either,” Misha snaps, his knuckles cracking as a flash of rage sweeps over his expression. “He’s as good as dead.”

Nikolai flinches like he’s been hit with a bullet, but he doesn’t disagree, just turns his face toward the window.

“Why are you here then? Aside from to make things worse?” I spit, feeling Niko’s grief as if it were my own.

Misha frowns at me. “Are you sure you are Savannah’s friend?”

“What kind of question is that?”

He blurts something in Russian that has Niko, his face still turned away, signing, “Speak in English. It’s rude.”

Misha grits his teeth. “You are a survivor of abuse, no?”

“Yes.” I arch a brow as I figure out what the asshole means. “What? Do you want me to sit here and cower? Is that to be my role for the rest of my life because I picked the wrong man?” I huff. “Well, I’m sorry that I don’t fit the part.”

More like I’m sorry he typecasted me.

Niko squeezes my fingers as Misha, clearly sensing the error of his ways, rumbles, “Revenge.”

“Revenge?” I repeat because that seems a little out of context.

“That’s why I’m here. We shouldn’t be talking about this in front of her,” he snipes at Nikolai.

“You mean aside from already witnessing two murders and the illegal transportation of ten Russians whose only interaction with ICE will be the rocks they have with their vodka tonight… you’re concerned I have evidence for the cops?”

Misha’s mouth tightens. “Who did you kill, Nikolai?”

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