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49. Matvey

49

MATVEY

In my life, I've never lost a battle.

I couldn't afford to. I still can't. In my world, it's eat or be eaten; kill or be fucking obliterated.

And yet, a few nights ago, April handed me my first defeat.

I've stopped sleeping in the guest bedroom. I can't bring myself to. It doesn't matter how much I harden my heart of stone—because, after dinner, April will stand up and look at me. Just look at me, her hazel eyes wide and filled with hope.

That's all it takes.

It's pathetic. I'm supposed to be heartless, hardened. A beast in the skin of a man. A killing fucking machine, ready to gun down whoever's in my path without the slightest hesitation.

So why can't I say no to her?

Worse, I've told her things. Things I'd never shared with anyone. Even Yuri doesn't know the extent of it—what my life was like before I found him. Only that our father will pay for what he's taken from me.

But I told April all of it.

Why?

Even now, it's more of the same. I should be getting ready for work, but for some reason, I'm still in bed with her. Watching the rise and fall of her pregnant belly as she sleeps, wrapped in sheets and nothing else.

As if sensing my eyes on her, April stirs. "Mmph'nning . "

I quirk an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

She finally drags her face away from the pillow. "G'morning."

I push my thoughts from my mind. "If you want to be convincing, you should try that with your eyes open."

Big mistake. As soon as those hazel irises are on me, I remember exactly how I lost the battle in the first place. "Top o' the mornin' to ya," she salutes. As she straightens up, the sheets drop off of her entirely. "Better?"

"Much," I answer with a pointed look.

She tries to snatch the sheets back, but I yank them to my side. "Hey!"

"Bit late to get shy on me, Ms. Flowers."

"I'm not shy; I'm cold."

It's a bold-faced lie: her cheeks are so red you could cook eggs on them.

It's the wrong thought to have. Because now, I'm picturing eating breakfast right off her skin, and it's making me fucking ravenous.

But not for food.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask, my tone commanding.

"Uhh, to shower?"

I wall her in with my body. "Not until I say so, you're not."

I dip my head into the crook of her neck and bite. Her reaction is instant—she chokes out a gasp, hands flying to dig into my back.

I press one finger into her, find her slick and willing. Still fucked open from last night, streaks of dried cum between her thighs. "Matvey…!"

I want to mark her everywhere. Want my scent on every inch of her. Until there couldn't possibly be any doubt who she belongs to.

I'm not anyone's. I'm Matvey Groza; I belong to myself alone.

But April Flowers is mine.

How? asks the last scrap of my reason. Why? What is she to you?

I don't answer. I don't feel like bothering with semantics right now. Or at least, that's what I tell myself.

"Matvey," April whines under me. "Matvey, please ."

I line up my cock against her wet pussy. I'm nearly inside, the tip already pressing into tight walls, April's moans echoing in my ears?—

And then my goddamn phone rings.

I'm tempted to ignore it. So, so fucking tempted.

But then I remember all my missteps these past few weeks: the lack of attention at meetings, the forgotten report on my desk?—

Cursing, I whisk up my phone. " What ."

"Motya, it's me."

"Now is not a good time, brother."

"Is that Yuri?" April mouths below me.

I stick two fingers into her mouth to shut her up. I don't miss the way her eyes go dark and hooded at that— blyat' , I'm even harder now.

"It's urgent," Yuri pants. By the sound of it, he's been running. "It's better if we speak in person. Can you meet me at the loft in fifteen?"

The loft . Yuri knows I've been staying at the penthouse. If he's asking to meet there, it can only mean one thing: whatever this is must stay between us. "I'll be there in ten."

April gives a muffled groan.

I shut the call and slip my fingers out. "Next time, I'll have to gag you."

"Do you really have to go?" she blinks up at me with her doe eyes. "I know you're the Batman and everything?—"

" Pakhan. "

"—but can't you call in sick or something?"

"It's not a government job," I deadpan, pulling away from her warm, willing body. Someone better be ready to die for this. "Besides, it's Yuri. If he's calling me this early…"

April's face immediately shifts to concern. "Is he okay?"

"Relax. He just sounded winded."

"Okay, good," she exhales. "You'll tell me if anything's wrong, though?"

I move my lips to say yes, then I stop. Why should I promise that? My Bratva's my business. Mine . No one else's.

"I'll call you," I say without elaborating. I was already planning to do that anyway. Ever since the break-in, I've sometimes been dropping surprise calls or texts. Nothing too long, just random pulse checks.

For the baby, of course.

"Okay." April beams. "Good luck."

She pecks me on the lips. That's a new part of the routine: morning goodbyes. The first time she did that, I felt like a fucking deer in the headlights. It's not the kind of goodbye I'm used to.

"Call me if there's any trouble," I say.

Then I grab a few clothes and text Grisha.

We get to the loft with a minute to spare. But Yuri's already there. "Something happened." Then he clocks Grisha and snarls, "What's he doing here?"

"He's here because I told him to be," I snap back. I'm in no mood for games, especially not now. "So are you gonna talk or not?"

Yuri swallows. He looks between us, then seems to make a decision. Good. I wasn't going to wait much longer. "It's about the D.C. plan."

That gets my attention. "What happened?"

I'm expecting news of a delay. I'm expecting to hear the vory are being difficult, that they're still demanding to be looped in. I'm even expecting to see an extra zero tacked on the price last minute.

What I'm not expecting is for Yuri to say, "It's over, Matvey."

"Come fucking again?"

"It's over," Yuri repeats. "The deal… it fell through."

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