44. Matvey

44

MATVEY

That morning, I leave April and Charlie snoozing on the couch and head down to the lobby.

Yuri and Grisha are already waiting for me. I told them to meet here—I didn't want to be away from the penthouse any more than I had to. Not after yesterday's pop-up visit by April's harpy of a mother.

"Who was on guard duty yesterday?" I ask first thing.

"Taras and Shura," Grisha replies.

"Fire them. I want someone more capable next time."

We head to the restaurant area. The waiter's eyes go wide at the sight of me. "S-Sir! If I'd known you'd be here, I would have?—"

"Are you telling me I need a reservation to have breakfast in my own hotel's restaurant?"

He goes white as a sheet. "N-No, sir, of course not!"

"Good. I didn't think so."

He leads us to a table with jittery steps, the menus practically vibrating in his hands. I can see the pencil crack as he takes our orders. Anyone else would probably feel bad for the poor guy.

But I'm not anyone else.

"Where are we on the interrogation?" I ask Yuri as soon as the waiter's out of sight.

"Fine," he sighs. "Anatoly isn't saying a word. Doesn't matter what I use, his answer's the same: ‘I don't know anything.'"

"Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. He might be innocent."

I give a bitter laugh. "No one's innocent in the Bratva. What about Vlad?"

"I kept on his tail. Nothing suspicious yet."

"Maybe you're overextended, Yurochka," Grisha suggests. "I could take over tailing Vlad. Or extracting information from the suspect."

"Sure. You wanna kiss my ass, too?"

"Stop it," I growl. "He's right, Yura. I've been asking a lot of you."

"No, you haven't," he insists, that old desperation to prove himself shining right out of his eyes.

"Yes, I have. You can't be in two places at once."

"I can deal with Anatoly when Vlad's in a meeting," he protests. "I've done it before. It's not hard."

"Yuri—"

"Please," he murmurs. "Let me do this."

That's when it finally clicks.

Of course. There's a reason he doesn't want to give up the Vlad investigation, and a damn good one at that: Petra. He probably wants to be certain of Vlad's guilt—wants to see it with his own two eyes.

And he's too conflicted to tell me.

"Fine," I concede. "But you can't use this as an excuse to shirk your other duties. I'll expect you to fulfill those, too."

"I will," Yuri promises. "Thank you."

Conflict. I've been seeing a lot of that in my brother's eyes lately. I can't say I envy his position. He's got blood on either side of the equation.

No, not blood— family.

I used to think those two were the same thing. But if April's taught me anything, it's that you can't paint the world in black and white like that. Not when there are so many shades in between. April's blood did nothing but stab her in the back, time and time again, with the sharpest knives it could find. Still does, if given the chance. In her family by blood, everyone but Charlie is an enemy.

Charlie and April. In a way, I see us in them—Yuri and myself. After our father's betrayal, we were all we had. Just each other, the endless snow, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Those two half-siblings I left snoozing on the couch… they don't have anyone else, either.

Wrong. They have you .

Yes. They have me.

And like fuck am I going to abandon them. That promise I forced April to make wasn't just one-way; I intend to honor it, too. Never again.

Never again will I leave April to deal with her ghosts alone.

Clearly, Yuri's dealing with ghosts of his own, too, no matter what he says. He can refuse help all he wants, but that doesn't mean it's not needed. I've known my brother long enough to know what the circles under his eyes mean: he's exhausted, physically and mentally.

And I can't let that go on any longer.

"Stay on Vlad today. Let's give our suspect a break."

"A break?"

"Make him think we've abandoned him."

Yuri nods. "That makes sense. He'd be more willing to talk after that."

"What about me?" Grisha asks.

"You'll stay on April. After what happened yesterday, I want you with the other guards as often as possible. Keep them in line. Remind them it's not just Carmine they have to protect her from."

"Yes, pakhan. "

We break it off there. Our coffees have long since gone cold, but I swallow mine anyway. The bitterness helps. Grounds me in a way nothing else can.

I watch Yuri leave, then stop Grisha from going up. "I've changed my mind. I need you to drive me somewhere first."

"What about April?"

I hesitate. I want her to be safe, but this is important. "Have your men call if anyone comes," I decide. "And I do mean anyone , Grisha. I don't care if it's the fucking Tooth Fairy—I want to know about it."

"Noted." He types a quick text, then turns back to me. "Where to?"

The warehouse is exactly as I left it: rust-eaten, rank with the smell of blood and disinfectant. Half-hospital, half-prison.

Only, there's no chance of getting out of here.

I find Anatoly in Room A, as expected. He's been roughed up. Half his face is swollen, almost unrecognizable. If he'd been able to escape like that, I'm not sure I could have found him.

"Hello, Anatoly."

His head snaps up. " Pakhan. What… are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get answers."

I glance at the tools. Either they're untouched, or they've been cleaned spotless, because there isn't a speck of blood on them. I wonder if this is why Yuri couldn't get this guy to talk—if he didn't go hard enough on Anatoly for one reason and one reason only.

Kindness.

"Please, wait?—"

I land the first punch in his gut. "Who are you spying for?"

This thing with Vlad must've been getting to Yuri more than I thought. He doesn't want to ruin that man's life—Petra's life—without hard proof. That must be why he's been going soft on Anatoly. Subconsciously, he's been linking the two together.

I should've known it would be too much for him. This isn't just his mess—it's mine as well. And now, I'm going to clean it up.

Anatoly spits out a mouthful of blood. It's a while before he stops choking enough to answer, so I grow impatient. I land another blow, this time with the back of my hand to his face. "Who put you up to it? Who's been working with the enemy?"

"I already told him!"

I blink. "What?"

"That guy…" he heaves. "H-He was here before. I told him… everything…"

Sirens start blaring in my head. "What guy?" I shake Anatoly by the shoulders. "Who was here before me?"

"You know him… you, y-you…"

Shit. I shouldn't have called Yuri away this morning. "Talk to me, Anatoly. Talk to me and you're free: who came here?"

"He's your… h-he's…"

Suddenly, he starts foaming at the mouth. Blood mixes with it, coming down his chin in rivers. Fucking hell, did I hit him too hard?

A seizure , I realize. That's why Yuri was going easy: he must've known Anatoly was sick.

And, like an idiot, I stepped right into it.

"Call our doctor," I bark at Grisha. "Hurry!"

But he's barely dialed two digits when Anatoly's head rolls back, his tremors stopping.

I check his eyes: glassy, lifeless.

Dead.

"Shit!" I kick the tool cart over. "Fucking HELL!"

It takes me a minute to calm down. By the time I'm done trashing the room, I'm breathing hard and heavy. Cautiously, Grisha approaches me. "Did he say who he's been talking to?"

"He didn't have to. He said enough."

You know him. Those words are lodged into my brain like splinters. And then the other thing he was trying to get out. He's your…

"My father," I growl.

All this time, I've been following Vlad around like a fool, but he never had anything to do with it. The spy was on the Groza side— my side.

And my father was the one pulling the strings.

Again, Carmine's been one step ahead of me.

Again, he's taken away my only witness.

And again, I let him.

"FUCK!"

"Matvey," Grisha calls urgently, "there's something you need to know."

"What?"

He lifts his phone. "The bodyguards just texted me. Someone's at the penthouse. He said he was family, so they let him up."

I feel the blood drain from me. "Who?"

"They took a picture."

I stare at the screen. It can't be. Not now, not today.

Why the fuck is this happening now?!

"Stay here," I order him. "Call cleanup. Handle this mess. I'll take the car."

I don't have time to call Yuri and update him. I don't have time to think about anything else but the family I left at the penthouse, thinking foolishly they'd be safe without me.

But they're not.

They're in danger—all of them.