Page 143 of Godless Saints

“You know. You should meet him sometime.”

I yanked the tux off the hanger.

“I don’t know if he likes the Ashbournes very much.”

Misha snorted. “I don’t think he has anything against you. He hates my grandfather, but he likes me. So…”

“Are you two serious?” I started knotting the tie in front of the mirror, watching Misha scratch the back of his neck.

“I don’t know. He’s… I haven’t asked. Don’t want to come off needy.”

I turned, eyebrow raised. “Needy?”

“Turns out relationships are complicated. Especially when you’re from two rival Russian mafia families.” He leaned back on the bed, voice dropping. “He’s good to me though. Notices shit. After Mom died that kind of attention just… disappeared. Dad’s a cold asshole. Grandfather’s worse. Aleksei’s just like them. Of course I had to be the fucked-up one who’s gay. Couldn’t just be another heartless Russian who fucks women for sport.”

“Talk to Adrian. Tell me next time you see him. If not, dump the guy.”

Misha grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, from one thing to another, will I be your best man?”

I shrugged the jacket on, rolling my shoulders once. The fabric felt too tight. “Yeah. Who else would it be?”

“True that. I’m your only friend.”

I punched at his shoulder. He dodged, laughing, but I caught the way his eyes flicked to the bruises on my jaw. He knew. He always knew.

We headed downstairs, the weight of the banquet and Declan and Moon’s father sitting heavy in my chest.

We finally made it to the banquet. Champagne corks popped somewhere in Vesper’s corner, laughter too loud, but my eyes cut straight through the crowd for Moon. Duh.

Misha drifted toward Aleksei and Igor. My gaze kept hunting the room. No Moon yet. They waved me over. Dammit.

“Cillian, you seen Declan?” Igor asked. “Missing since yesterday. Wasn’t at the ceremony either.”

Misha shot up. “I’ll grab you a drink, Cil. Already told them I haven’t seen him. You were overseas anyway.”

He bolted for the bar. I dropped into the chair, jaw tight. “Nah. Haven’t seen him. What do you think happened?”

Aleksei leaned back. “Ronan’s already sniffing around. With the beef you two had all year, he’ll come to you first. And he won’t like ‘no’ for an answer.”

Igor huffed into his whiskey. “Who gives a fuck. Place is quieter without that Irish piece of shit anyway.”

Misha slid the whiskey in front of me. “Who the fuck would even know where that big brute crawled off to? Whitlock’s the one with all the gossip if we need it.”

Aleksei sighed, rubbing his temple. “We handle it ourselves. Last thing we need is Whitlock sticking his nose in. His methods are… extreme.”

“I’m bored by this conversation. Ronan can go fuck himself.” I downed the rest of the whiskey, the burn doing nothing to loosen the knot in my chest. “Ashbourne already put them in their place. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Moon.”

“Where’s Moon?”

Sawyer looked up, eyes sharp. “First, why the fuck were you at the mansion? I’d know if you were invited.”

I dropped into the seat. “Don’t owe you shit. Where is he, Sawyer?”

“I talked to Kaelan. I know what you three had planned.”

“Misha wasn’t there. Don’t drag him into this.”

“I see.” Sawyer leaned in. “I know where Declan is, by the way. You didn’t finish it." My stomach dropped. Alive. The bastard was alive. "Don’t look at me like that, I’m not judging. Much. I’ve cleaned up messes for Hyun before. Bigger ones. One of them involved Declan’s brother, actually. Seamus. But that’s ancient history and completely irrelevant right now, obviously."