Page 36 of Silenced

Me: *rolls eyes in Russian*

With a mental note made that Savannah O’Donnelly will need to be contacted at some point, I switch over to another text conversation and type:

Me: Dmitri, if Misha asks… Cassiopeia got on a flight and we watched her go.

Barely a second passes before he’s replying:

Dmitri: Misha and I barely talk, but if we do, it’s never about business.

Dmitri: Why do you want me to lie to him?

Little shit.

Me: This wasn’t an invitation for question time. Just do as I say.

Dmitri: Da.

With a grunt, I switch to yet another text conversation.

I can feel the fatigue of the very long day beginning to work away at my focus, but this is important.

Me: You know Altin?

Unsurprisingly, the ‘read’ ticks are immediate.

Elena Çela is the most paranoid woman I’ve ever met in my life. And with my past, that’s saying fucking something.

BeforeSolnyshko, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met too. Ironically, that was how she’d earned her nickname—Troy. Short forHelenof Troy.

But I’ve met the real Helen of Troy now, and she’s lying on my bed…

That doesn’t help my hard-on.

Troy: You mean my dipshit cousin?

Me: Da.

Troy: Of course, I know him then, kretin.

My lips quirk into a smirk.

She’s the only person with big enough balls to call me that. Not even Dmitri, Misha, or Maxim would fucking dare.

Me: How well?

Troy: I wouldn’t attend his funeral if he were dead.

Troy: Is he?

Troy: Feel free to make my night.

My brows lift.

Me: He’s not dead.

Me: Yet.

Troy: So there’s hope?

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