Page 66 of Brutal Truths

Doesn’t surprise me. I’d do the same. As long as they get her safe first.

The second we land, I’m out, gear in hand, jogging toward the black car parked a hundred yards away. Zander’s propped against the door, a dark bruise under his eye. Up close, it’s worse than it looked from a distance, dark and spreading, purple and blue bleeding together.

I slow to a brisk walk. “How’d you get that?”

“During a sparring session with Drake.” Pushing off the car, he swings the backdoor open, then digs into his pocket and hands me a phone.

I don’t need to ask what I’m supposed to do with it. This is standard. One number. One call. As I climb in, I pass him the black bag, then hit the call button and wait.

Silas is sitting in the seat across from me, his back to the front. I never understood why he always picks that seat. I hate having my back to the driver, but he sticks to it every time. His weapon is resting on his lap. I don’t react. Just roll my eyes and settle in opposite him.

By the third ring, the guy I thought would invite himself finally answers.

“Explain. If I don’t like your answers, my son will shoot you.” Trent’s tone is about as dark as I’ve heard it, but that doesn’t faze me. I’m not worried.

“No need for that.” I lower the phone and put him on speaker, then walk him through the night we rescued Isabel from her kidnapper. I keep to the version of truth that leaves Zander out of it.

“As you might imagine, she was shaken up. Bringing her to Soulcombe didn’t seem like the best move, not after everything she’d been through. So, I took her somewhere safe, where she could recover in peace. Didn’t think you’d want her brother showing up, because once he learned where she was, he would have. And that would be shit for business.”

Zander turns in his seat and looks at me. “Meeting still at the slaughterhouse?”

I nod, then elaborate. “Back of the property. Said there’s a red barn. Take the service road just past the main entrance.”

He shifts the vehicle into gear and starts driving.

My attention is now back on the man I hear breathing heavily through the speaker.

“What I’d like to know is how Rurik got your son’s phone.” Shifting my eyes to the man across from me, I ask, “Lose your phone?”

Silas pats his chest and glares at me. “No.”

“No?” I don’t believe him. He has a history of misplacing it. “How did Rurik ring me from your number, then?”

“Fuck if I know. My phone’s right here.” He pats his chest again like that settles it, tapping the gun against his knee.

I know Silas well enough to read him. He might have his phone now, but it disappeared sometime in the last several days. Could’ve been for a few hours or just minutes. That’s all it takes for a good hacker to clone your phone and use it without your knowledge. I’ve seen Pauly do it with the person sitting right there. All he needs is a minor distraction.

I have a pretty good idea of how Rurik distracted Silas. Wouldn’t take much, just a beautiful woman.

My theory is confirmed when Zander catches my eye in the rearview. He knows when it happened. I can see it. But he’s not saying a word. Not with Silas sitting right here, who would shoot him without a second thought.

“Enough about the damn phone.” Trent clears his throat, the sound cutting through the silence in the cab. “What’s done is done. We’ll deal with that later.”

Silas yanks his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and tosses it my way. “There’s nothing to deal with. That’s my phone. The same one I’ve had for the last two years. As you can see, the last text I sent was to my father, not you.”

It is.

But that’s not the text that grabs my attention. It’s the one at the bottom of his screen. I tap it, pulling up the full thread. It’s a string of texts between him and Katerina.

Silas has no shortage of conversations with random women. Normally, I wouldn’t give it a second thought. But the name sticks, enough to make me take a closer look.

KATERINA:

My client’s eager to see the Goncharova. It’ll be a fine addition to his collection. A perfect addition to his new gallery. He’s looking forward to meeting you.

SILAS:

The Goncharova isn’t for sale. I said this. Don’t like repeating myself.