16. Matvey

16

MATVEY

It takes me the entire drive home to calm down.

I can't help it. The second the doctor uttered those words, I saw red. Back to prepartum condition. Sexual activity.

Like hell am I letting that happen.

It's a dark, vicious spiral of thoughts, and it just keeps getting darker as I slam the door to the loft closed and reach for something stronger than coffee. At least this liquor cabinet is still mine to use, thank you very much.

"Unbelievable," I mutter to myself. "Un-fucking-believable."

I try to steer my mind back to business, but it just won't quit. I just keep remembering our fight before she left, that cursed day where I did my worst to push her away. That I'd get rid of her, that I didn't owe her anything, that I?—

And if I want somebody else to move in, you won't stand in my way, either?

That was the one concession I couldn't make: another man. Another fucking man, putting his hands on her.

April Flowers is mine.

But you didn't want her , whispers that sadistic little voice in my head. You rejected her to her face, then threatened to force her to die alone. And you still wonder why she left?

"Shut up," I growl into the silence.

But it does nothing. The voice prattles on. You didn't have the balls to go all the way. You cut her out, then locked her up. What else did you expect? That she'd obey you?

"Shut up."

That she'd stay with you? That she'd love you?

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

I throw the glass across the room. Shards go flying everywhere: the couch, the table, the bed. The liquor trickles down from the wall to the carpet, spreading like blood.

"… Motya?"

Only when I hear that voice do I snap out of it. "Yuri."

My brother rushes to my side. "Who were you talking to?" he asks, eyes filled with concern.

I hate it. I hate being looked at that way. "No one."

"‘No one'? Matvey, you were yelling. I heard you from the street. If it's about one of the vory ?—"

"It's not about the goddamn vory ."

I have no idea what Yuri sees in my eyes. These days, I barely recognize myself in the mirror. But whatever it is, it's enough to make him back off with his hands up. "Okay, okay," he says. "I just came by to… I can come back later."

"No. Tell me now."

He swallows, as if hesitating to speak. As if afraid this madman that's taken his brother's place will wring his neck again for uttering one wrong word. "It's about the D.C. deal," he rasps eventually.

My ears perk up. "Talk."

"I found something, I think," Yuri stammers out. "In the paperwork." He reaches for the files in his bag but fumbles, scattering sheets everywhere.

Jesus fucking Christ. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was staring at a kid caught with his entire arm down the cookie jar, not my Bratva-hardened brother. Am I really that scary now? "Leave that. Just tell me."

Yuri gives a shaky nod. "You know how we thought it was Carmine? Given, you know…"

The kidnapping and timely appearance in our territory. "Go on."

"Well, here's the thing…" He wrings his hands and the papers with them. "It's not. Or rather… it's not just him. It can't be."

I snatch the files from his grip and spread them out on the table. "Show me."

"See here, here… and here?" He points at a few underlined pieces of data. "This is the vory 's login records around the time of the acquisition. As you know, they're technically nominal, but…"

"But the lazy sons of bitches just use whatever computer's already on when they need it," I fill in. "Grisha already told me. Well?"

"Well, the timing's suspicious. See how the timestamps match here?" He points to another stack of papers.

No, not papers: emails. "Where did you get these?"

"From the database of the company that ended up acquiring the building. Look how the exchanges happened just after the logins. It's too perfect, Matvey."

It is. Either I'm looking at the weirdest coincidence in the world, or…

"We have a mole," I realize. "All this time, we've had a mole in our ranks."

Yuri gives a grim nod. "It's likely that someone has been feeding Carmine information. Someone from the inner circle."

I sift through the papers again. There are notes in the margins, scattered thoughts here and there, as if Yuri really took his time with it. His handwriting looks more rushed than usual, less rounded, though still familiar somehow.

He must have spent many late nights on this. It's really good work.

I almost tell him that. But then I remember he's still on thin ice. Praise is the last thing he deserves.

"Who else knows?"

"Just us."

This is a real fucking headache. I just promised the vory a war, and now, I have to stop everything. To stall at the worst possible time.

But I can't risk losing with Carmine. And with an unknown variable in our midst, it's anyone's guess how exposed we'll be. He's the kind of man who can turn a breadcrumb into a mountain of ammo—who knows what he can do with a spy ?

"Good," I tell Yuri. "Let's keep this between us."

"I think that's for the best?—"

"Except for Grisha. I want him looped in."

Yuri's face falls. "Grisha? Why?"

"Because he's proven reliable," I snap, irritated at being questioned. "And loyal. Something harder and harder to find these days."

Those words make him flinch. "But…" He fumbles for a reason to object. "But he's not blood," he says finally.

It doesn't matter , I almost reply. Then I come back to my senses. "I want him looped in," I repeat. "Don't make me say it again."

Yuri swallows. "Yes, pakhan. "

A mole. I never thought anyone would have the guts to try, given what I do to my enemies. But there it is: a spy—no, a traitor. Another betrayal waiting in the wings.

Join the fucking club.