Page 46 of Silk and Sirens

I’d heard he was back in the city, but I hadn’t realised he was tight with the Russian Bratva.

Ryder met my gaze with one vivid eye, the other washed over with white. He winked, slow and deliberate, a cocky smirk tugging at his mouth. He’d been blinded, probably his past catching up with him and all that. It actually made me feel better, because clearly I was a sick fuck.

“We didn’t steal,” Sebastian said calmly. “I have zero interest in the arms trade.”

“Fucking nonsense,” Sasha spat in Russian, unaware I spoke the language fluently. “You sit there and lie to my face?” he continued, reverting back to English.

“Do we look like mugs?” I asked, widening my stance behind Sebastian while Langdon leaned against the wall to our side. We had deliberately left all the men outside, considering the last thing we needed was bloodshed. Sasha was notoriously reactive, but even he didn’t want to burn this bridge. Not when we were one of his strongest allies. “We’ve never lied to you.”

“So, this is what?” Sasha muttered, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “A fucking error?” With a muttered curse he threw a newspaper across the table towards Sebastian, who didn’t bother glancing down.

There wasn’t much point, considering he had severe dyslexia.

“Dumb fuck still needs it read to him,” Sasha sniggered.

I didn’t react, keeping myself composed. Sebastian’s dyslexia wasn’t a secret, nor was it something we’d ever considered a weakness. It was simply the way his brain worked, something he’d been born with and spent his entire life adapting around. And clearly, he’d adapted just fine. Dyslexia hadn’t stopped him from becoming the head of one of the most powerful and brutal drug empires on the fucking continent. It hadn’t stopped people from fearing him. If anything, it had forced him to become better in every other way—sharper, more observant, more ruthless—which Sasha knew.

He was just being a cunt.

“We’ve come into some information,” I said, trying to calm the situation as I ignored the newspaper which Sasha only used to make his dick feel bigger.

Our alliance had always been fragile, built on mutual caution and calculated respect rather than trust, and right now it felt one wrong breath away from shattering. Especially with a certain fucking siren pouring poison into every crack.

“The Mistress of Whispers was outside,” Ryder said in broken Russian, leaning towards Sasha. “She came with them.”

Sasha’s lip curled. “What’s that whore doing here? She’s only good on her back.”

I forced my jaw to relax, swallowing the sharp retort burning on my tongue.

“What’s the information?” Roman asked, his eyes as cold as my own when I met them. “Because right now, it seems that you’ve been caught stealing something that doesn’t belong to you.” His accent was subtle compared to his father’s, but he was no less dangerous.

“Our intel suggests someone intentionally moved your weapons into our container,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “Someone who wants to spark a war between us.”

“How much do we trust this?” Sasha asked in Russian, clearly wanting a private conversation in a room full of ears.

Roman stared at Sebastian, his expression callous. Almost bored. “How reliable is this information?”

“Reliable enough,” I answered. “There’s a third party looking to make a name for themselves, pitting us against each other while they watch in the shadows.”

“This all from your informant?” Sasha asked with a sneer. “You’re asking us to trust your word and that of a known manipulator.”

“You really want to risk our alliance over this?” Sebastian asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Sasha’s eyes narrowed to slits. He rose slowly from his chair, posture rigid with barely contained fury. “You’re asking too much, Beast. The only reason you’re not dead already is because we have history. If I find out you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you myself.”

He turned towards the door without another word, confident we wouldn’t shoot him in the back, and Ryder fell in step behind him. As he passed, he subtly lifted his middle finger, the one with the snake-tongue tattoo, and scratched at his nose with it while flashing me a mocking grin.

Cunt.

Roman paused at the threshold, locking eyes with me one final time. “Pakhan’s growing more volatile, I’d be careful if I were you,” he said in Russian, looking for a reaction. When I didn’t give him one, he smirked, reverting once more back to English. “Thank you for meeting us.”

“There’s a rat in your organisation,” I said quietly, wanting to secure a relationship. As the Pakhan’s son, he was most likely the future of the Bratva if he wasn’t taken out before he could take reign, which made him valuable. Luckily for me, he was far less impulsive than his father, probably because he was rumoured to be on the anti-social spectrum. “I suggest you find them.”

Roman studied me for a beat, then gave a single, measured nod. Without another word, he turned and followed the others out.

Hook let out a low whistle. “Wow, I genuinely thought that was it for you guys. I wrote a eulogy and everything.”

“Can I kill him?” Langdon signed, and Sebastian shook his head.