Page 55 of Silenced

“Moskva isn’t NYC,” Dmitri argues. “None of you understand the hierarchy like I do. None of you were raised eating, breathing, and shitting it like I was.

“It’s not as easy as you think it is to pull off a takeover.

“Whether he’s liked or not, he owns Russia. Hell, the Baltics, even. The US is different.”

Misha rocks back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the US is different from Russia,” is his flat retort. “The links over there are entrenched. It’s like a hydra—you cut off one head and seven more shoot up.

“Plus, you take out the K.O., then my father will snatch his position, and if not him, Petrov.” The Obschak. “There’ll always be someone waiting to jump onto his throne, someone older and, because of that, with more connections than all four of us put together.

“These alliances were made when Niko was still wearing diapers; that’s how they remain in power. That’s why you’re not popular with the old guard, Maxim—you broke the cycle.

“Despite that, it’s different in the US.Younger. They own it through their Pakhans. It’s their Pakhans who have the ties, the influence. Not the lords in their palaces in Moskva.”

Exasperated, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This wasn’t why I started our call. I just wanted to know what game you were playing over there.”

Misha jeers, “Sedition.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “If he dies because you can’t save his ass from NYC, that’s on you and not me seeing as you’re encouragingthiswhere I’m not.”

“That’s not fucking fair,” Misha snarls, his good humor instantly fading.

“Misha can’t be here,” Maxim inserts calmly. “I need him in the city.”

“Why?” Dmitri inquires before mocking, “Can’t you leave Silk without a keeper?”

Silk is one of Tribeca’s hottest clubs and it’s Misha’s baby.

“Hush, Dmitri,” I chide. “Silk makes the New York branch a fortune.”

When silence falls on the video call, each of our gazes darting from one to the other, Maxim breaks it first with a grumbled, “I have a traitor in my ranks.”

“You have several,” Dmitri retorts. “What’s the difference now?”

“Someone close to him,” Misha mutters. “I’m monitoring things.”

Concerned, I sign, “Do you need help? Extra men?”

“They’d be loyal to you, not me,” Maxim points out.

“AndIam loyal to you, Maxim.”

The simplicity of my statement has his shoulders slouching as he sinks back into the sofa. I don’t know where he’s staying, but I can imagine it’s Bratva-owned. If he hasn’t swept the place for bugs…

God, thesepodonoksare going to turn me prematurely gray.

“I’ll never understand how the two of you can fight so much when Nikolai barely says a word,” Misha complains, but a smile is dancing around his lips as he takes in Maxim’s reaction to my statement.

“If you need me,” I sign, ignoring Misha. “I can be there. Whether that’s in the flesh or whether it’s with trustworthy manpower.” My cell buzzes, drawing my attention to it from its position on my desk. Seeing Boris’s name, I continue, “I have to go. Don’t lock me out, you two. Keep me in the loop.”

Before they can argue, I cut the call, but as I reach for my phone, Dmitri sniffs. “Why you put up with them is beyond me.”

“You think I don’t put up with you too?” I counter, smirking when he scowls at me.

Grabbing my phone, I scan the messages. My smirk dies shortly after.

“What is it?”

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