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“Why would you do that?”
“I believe the correct response is ‘thank you.’”
“Yes, I—” I exhale. “Thank you. But still, why?”
Alistair Chase, the closest thing you can get to a god on this earth, sighs as if mildly irritated. “I owed someone a favor. They called it in.”
“Who?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Zayden Silver.”
I lean against the counter. “Forgive me, but I want to check that this clean slate is spotless.”
He hums quietly. “I have a vested interest in keeping you and the Morellis apart.”
“And why would that be?”
“What I’m about to say stays between us. If I hear it from anyone else, I’ll assume you can’t keep your mouth shut, and I’ll be forced to fix that. Understood?” I roll my eyes. “I heard that.” I blanch, glancing at Bullet. “Did you ever look into who called the hit on your wife’s father?”
Sitting at the kitchen island, I nod. “Yeah. Some guy in New Jersey. He used to work with Silence’s dad before he moved her out here.”
“That hit was on behalf of someone else,” he says. “You’ve heard of the Volkovs?”
“Yeah. I own Brat’Ya Manor House. That was a Volkov home.”
That and it’s hard not to know who the Volkovs are. Alexei is one of the most feared Pakhans in the country. If you don’t know who he is, you’re ignorant or lucky.
“Well, the Volkovs called the hit out on Silence’s father, because he took something from them.”
“What did he take?”
“Her.”
My heart thumps in my ears, and the front door to the house opens. Silence walks in, Yale’s arms around her shoulders. He’s whispering in her ear and she’s laughing, her nose pink from the cold, cheeks flushed.
“What do you mean?”
Alistair continues, “He was supposedly owed money from the Volkovs, and they refused to pay, so he took Alexei Volkov’s infant sister. Otherwise known as your wife.” I stare at Silence as she waves happily at me and kneels to greet Bullet. “They searched for him for a long time, and when the hit was called in, it was assumed he’d probably killed her. By the time they realized she was alive, your wife had already left the state and changed her name.”
And then she met me.
“She’s—”
“A Volkov. Yes. If Sabina Morelli finds out a Volkov was even remotely involved in the death of her brother, I have a war on my hands out here. I’m not willing to let that unfold because you can’t run your business properly.”
“That’s not what—”
“I don’t give a shit. Keep Silence away from us, and I’ll keep your secret buried. Sound good?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“You might also wanna warn that Flynn friend of yours,” he says, and I freeze in place. “He’s in just as much shit as you if this all goes down.”
“How do you—”
“From this point onward, let’s just assume I know everything. Do I need to repeat anything, or can you retain this conversation?”
Dick. “Stay put. Live. Got it.”
