46. Matvey

46

MATVEY

I see red.

My fist meets Tom's face and something goes crack , sharp and sickening. I don't register the spray of blood, only the mounting rage in my chest. The beast inside me, howling, That's not enough. Make him pay.

It isn't just everything I've overheard during my walk down that long, long hallway. Words, I could still answer with words of my own. But the second I saw Tom's filthy hands on April, I fucking lost it.

"You piece of shit," I snarl as I throw him to the floor. "You stupid, miserable piece of?—"

I hit him again, and again, and again. It's all I can see: my fist diving down, coming back redder each time. I can't even tell if he's begging—the ringing in my ears drowns out all else.

I knew Tom was violent. I knew he'd likely hit April in the time she was forced to live under his roof.

But this ?

I can't even think straight. Is this the kind of attention she had to suffer? The humiliation she had to endure? Fucking hell, she was seventeen. Seventeen, and still, this scumbag would try…

Who says he only tried? whispers the darkest, ugliest part of me. Who says he didn't succeed?

I let out a roar and start pummeling him full-force. "I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you, you fillthy?—"

"MATVEY, STOP!"

The second I feel April's hands on me, my vision clears. The ringing fades. I can hear echoes of screams—a woman and a young boy. Eleanor, I realize, rushing over from the elevator.

And then…

Charlie .

I see him now, trembling in the doorway. His face is white, drained of all blood. He looks terrified.

He looks terrified of me.

"Dad…?"

I finally glance down. Tom's face is a red pulp, barely recognizable, like a bruised fruit squished under my heel. For a second, I think I've killed him.

Then I hear a rattling breath. "M-Mercy…"

I heave a sigh of relief. He's alive. I turn my attention back to the siblings, tuning out Eleanor's wails. "Charlie, I didn't mean?—"

But when I stretch out my hand, he flinches away.

"Charlie?" I frown, but someone steps between us.

April .

"Don't talk to him," she says in the iciest voice I've ever heard.

"April, I didn't want…"

"He needs an ambulance," Eleanor sobs. "He's g-gonna die!"

"He's not gonna die, Mom." April rolls her eyes, but still whips out her phone. "It looks worse than it is. Right, Tom?"

I watch the family spring into action—or rather, April . Out of everyone here, she seems to be the only one keeping a cool head.

But the fury in her gaze is unmistakable.

I fucked up.

I fucked up again .

Before the ambulance arrives, I make myself scarce.

It's not exactly my choice, but April's firm: Right now, Charlie needs his space. And it wouldn't be good for me to be there when the paramedics arrived. Not with the state of my knuckles being a dead giveaway.

So I leave.

I spend that time wandering the streets. I wash my hands in a water fountain, the first I can find. The blood rushes down and melts with the dark gray of the sidewalk, leaving me with purple bruises only. I wash my face, too, letting the icy water ground me.

By the time I make it back, it's already dark. "Where's Charlie?"

"He went home," April replies curtly. "He might be still at the hospital, though."

"So he isn't coming back?"

She gives a dry laugh. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" I growl, rage suddenly bubbling back to the surface. "I think Tom deserved it."

"Oh, yeah?" She takes an angry step towards me. "So that's why you almost killed him? You decided he deserved to die?"

"He was touching you!" I roar. "He was grabbing you. He was trying to?—"

"So stop him!" April yells. "Punch him once and be done with it! But you don't beat him within an inch of death in front of his goddamn son!"

Even as I grind my teeth, the rational part of me knows April's right: I crossed a line. But right now, I'm too furious to listen to that part. Every time I close my eyes, that scene starts playing again on a loop, and it's driving me fucking insane.

Tom's hands.

April's terrified face.

"He was threatening my family," I snarl. "I'll protect my family in any way I see fit."

"No, actually, you won't." April's jaw sets. "Believe it or not, Matvey, this isn't how it works. This isn't your Bratva. In this home, we don't repay slights with death."

"‘Slights'?" I hiss back. "You call those ‘slights'? He called you a side piece!"

"Well, he was right, wasn't he?"

That stuns me into silence. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Suddenly, it's like the world is spinning on its head. "The fuck does that mean?"

"What am I, Matvey?" she asks. "I'm not your girlfriend; I'm not your fiancée. I'm certainly not your wife. So what am I to you?"

"You're my woman," I rasp.

"I'm your side piece." Her voice starts to crack. "As far as the world is concerned, that's what I am."

"Who gives a shit about the world?"

" I do!" she screams. "I do, Matvey! If someone like Tom Hill can be right about me, then I care!"

"He wasn't right about?—"

"You're married to another woman," she cuts in. "So how was he wrong?"

"That's different," I protest. "That's necessary."

"Yes, and for how long?"

That question catches me off-guard. "What does that mean?"

"What else can it mean?" she half-sobs. "Do you even plan to marry me, Matvey? Or is this all we're ever going to be?"

Of course I'm going to marry you. The words are halfway out already, but at the last possible second, they get stuck in my throat.

I can see the conversation playing out in my mind: When?

I don't know.

Where?

I don't know.

How?

I don't fucking know.

That's the simple truth of it: I do not know. "April…"

"Don't," she orders. I can tell she's biting back tears, trying hard not to break down in front of me. To be strong .

"I want nothing more than to be married to you," I tell her.

But she just gives me a sad, watery smile in return. "That's not true."

"It is."

"No. You have your dreams, Matvey: yours and Petra's. You want to conquer D.C., cut off the head of Carmine's operation, get your prizes. Your revenge. Her recognition."

"I thought you supported that," I say bitterly. "I thought you agreed."

"I do support you!" she says. "I support you both so much, you have no idea. But that's just it, Matvey: These are your dreams—yours and hers. Not yours and mine." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Will there ever be room for those?"

I don't know what to say. For the first time in my life, I'm left completely speechless. My rage has long ebbed away, leaving me empty as a shell.

Our dreams . All this time, I never even thought of that. Not with everything else I've got on my plate.

But if I start, what will happen to mine? My war? My revenge? No matter what, they're the most important things. That's what I've always told myself.

But do you still believe it?

Faced with my silence, April lifts her head high. "Go away. I need to be alone right now."

"April—"

"Please," she begs. "Just go."

I don't want to. Every cell inside me, every atom, is screaming at me not to do it. Don't leave her. She's yours.

But I do.

God help me, I do.