Page 52 of Silenced

With a roll of my eyes, I sign, “I’ve heard you’ve been asking about Kuznetsov.”

Dmitri shudders. “What the hell are you doing getting involved with him, Maxim?”

The Kuznetsovs are as integral to Russian culture as the Kremlin.

Two parts ghoul, one part imagination, one part boogeyman.

The average Russian doesn’t know if they exist or not, but they know to never whisper that name.

It’s like an American teenager not daring to utter Bloody Mary out loud.

Except, in this instance, it’s the grown-ass adults who are scared, not pubescent, zit-pocked kids.

For good reason.

“I said I’d help someone,” Maxim mutters.

“You?” Dmitri retorts. “Since when do you offer to helpanyone?”

“Dmitri!” Misha barks. “Know your fucking place!”

“What place?” he argues. “I’m Nikolai’s right-hand man. That puts me at a higher goddamn rank thanyou, Misha, seeing as Maxim didn’t make you his Sovietnik.”

Neither of us knows why Maxim chose Kirill and Tima for his officers. Not when Misha has had Maxim’s back since he was a small boy or Maxim’s issue with my choosing an Obschak that wasn’t him all those years ago.

It’s clear, however, that it’s a point of contention when Misha grows red-faced and Maxim ducks his gaze from the screen.

It might only have been for a handful of seconds, but that’s enough for me to know there’s trouble in paradise.

Angling my head to the side, I place a hand on Dmitri’s shoulder before signing, “Infighting will get us nowhere. This isn’t a pissing contest or a popularity competition. Each of you is my family.

“Whether you choose to listen to me or not, I will always want what’s best for you, do you understand?”

Though Maxim is sulking like a child, even he hunches his shoulders at my words.

Dmitri might be the only one I consider a son, but Misha and Maxim aren’t far off. Maxim is nine years younger than me, after all, and I looked after him when he was small—those kinds of bonds are difficult to forget.

Even if Maxim wishes he could…

“Why is Kuznetsov of interest to you, Maxim?”

“I owe a debt to someone.”

Well, that was a lie.

They forget I know them better than they know themselves.

I heave yet another sigh. “Whatever reason has you sniffing around danger, you need to watch yourself and you need to get back to New York.Thatis your turf. You snatched it out of rightful hands and have already had to deal with several mutinies.

“Moskva will never accept you as its Pakhan, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hold it.” I flicker a look at Misha. “I’ve been informed that you have the support of the men.”

Maxim tilts his chin up. “I do.”

“Then that’s all you need, isn’t it?” When he frowns at me, I warn, “If you bring communism to the Bratva, you need to be prepared for another fallout. You can’t do that if you’re overseas.”

He grunts. “Any news on Pavel?”

I shrug. “Maria is still guarding him like a momma bear.”

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