Silent Lies (Perfectly Imperfect #8)

“It took me a while. I figured something wasn’t right when I would ask a question, and it seemed like he didn’t hear me. But I also noticed that he didn’t appear to have a problem hearing what was being said when he spoke with his men.”

“Drago suffers from high-frequency hearing loss. It means, in most cases, he can’t perceive high-pitched sounds, or when he can, he can’t distinguish what’s said.” She sets the cup on the counter and takes my hand. “Imagine talking with someone on the phone, but the connection is bad, and you can only hear some of the words, or parts of the words. You canhearthe person on the other end, but you can’tunderstandwhat they’re saying because a big part of the conversation is lost.”

“He’s reading lips to compensate, isn’t he?”

She nods.

“He’s really good.”

“Well, he’s been doing it for a very long time, Sienna.”

“How long?”

“Almost twenty years,” Keva says. “The bomb blast that destroyed his home, killed his parents and sister, did serious damage to his eardrums.”

“Is that when he got the burn scars as well?”

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath and bite the inside of my cheek. “Can he hear me? When I speak?”

Keva’s hand squeezes mine. “Your voice is rather high, sweetheart. He can hear you, but for Drago, it probably all sounds like mumbling. He’d have a hard time understanding most of what you say without lipreading. But he likely can hear very clearly when you say his name because there are no high-pitched consonants in it.”

“Why hasn’t he told me?”

“It isn’t exactly common knowledge. You know how the Mafia world works, Sienna. People could use that information against him, especially during important meetings.”

“He thinks I would tell the don,” I choke out.

“He does.”

I gape at her. How can he think I would share something that private? “Don’t tell Drago I know. Please.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t.”

“One of these days, I’m going to sit you two down and make you fucking talk to each other.” She shakes her head and reaches for her cup, but then suddenly yelps. “Jebem ti lebac!”

I follow her gaze and my eyes land on the dishwashers on the other side of the kitchen. Sudsy foam is pouring out from around the doors. I jump down off the counter and rush after Keva who’s running toward the chaos. When I reach her, she’s already stopped all three machines and is in the process of opening the closest one. A stream of white bubbles bursts out of the appliance even before the door is fully down.

“Jesus!” she shouts, looking at the mess that doubles when she opens the second dishwasher. “What on earth happened here? Call the girls and get some rags!”

“Um . . . I think it’s my fault,” I mumble as I open the drawer to get the kitchen towels.

I park my car and walk inside the warehouse where we stored the last weapons shipment. Filip and two security guards are standing by a pile of crates, while a third guard is a few feet away, holding a man at gunpoint.

“Is that Bogdan’s guy you caught snooping around?” I ask.

“Yes.” Filip nods. “He was messing with the lock on the back door. There was someone else with him, but he took off. Adam went after the guy.”

I take out my gun and turn toward the would-be saboteur. “Planning on destroying another one of my buildings?”

The man shakes his head and whimpers. I aim at his left thigh and pull the trigger. Clutching his leg, he falls to his side. “Let’s try again. What were you doing here?” I ask.

“Checking the security,” he wails.

“So the others can come tonight and torch it? Nice.” I crouch in front of him. “I know that Bogdan has a substantial shipment coming in next week. I need the date, the route, and the vehicle description. And while we’re at it, I need the locations of the two warehouses he uses for storage.”