63. Matvey

63

MATVEY

24 HOURS LATER

I blink awake to an odd combination of smells: antiseptic wound dressing and croissants.

Specifically, fresh croissants. Straight from the French bakery around the corner.

It wouldn't usually be enough to rouse me, but I've had one hell of a weekend. "Save me a plain one," I grumble.

"Trust me, no one's lining up to steal that."

Petra. What a celestial voice to wake up to. "Where's April?"

" Hwen pho geph mophee. "

"Right. Thanks for clarifying."

She swallows her gigantic bite. Grisha hasn't been here fifty seconds, and she's already wolfed down one—no, two chocolate croissants. "I said she went to get coffee," she clarifies. Then she reaches for a third pastry.

"Enough, you jackal. Leave some for my girlfriend."

Petra arches a brow. "That depends on how long she's planning to be gone."

"I'm here!" April rushes in, May in tow. "Any cream puffs?"

"I wouldn't hang you out to dry." Grisha smiles, handing over a separate paper bag. Talk about preferential treatment.

I snatch my breakfast before the Cookie Monster can inhale that, too. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long," April answers. "Just under an hour. You should grab some more rest."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. Also, stop scratching your arm."

I scowl, but I let my hand fall to my side. "Don't you have a baby to fuss over?"

"Actually," she sighs, "sometimes, I think I have two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask with a frown.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Really? ‘Cause it sounded a lot like sarcasm."

"I don't know what you're talking ab?—"

"Is there any left for me?"

Our heads turn in unison.

"Yuri!" Petra rushes over to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Yuri stirs. He squeezes his eyes against the fluorescent hospital lights. Between surgery and recovery, he's been out a whole day. "Hungry," he replies.

"Nice try," she deadpans. "You're on a hospital food diet for the next three weeks, you fuckhead."

"It's good to see you, too."

She punches him on the shoulder. His good shoulder, but I can't imagine it doesn't still hurt. "Stop wasting your breath on fucking jokes of all things. Your left lung almost collapsed."

"What if it wasn't a joke?" His voice dips lower, softer. "I am glad to see you. I didn't think I'd get the chance again."

"Oh, shut up," Petra growls, but her eyes are shiny now. "And don't you ever scare me like that again. You almost lost two pints of blood! They wouldn't even let me donate!"

"Because you're pregnant," April points out.

"So what? It's my choice!"

"Now, now," Grisha tries to placate her. "It all turned out fine in the end, didn't it?"

"No thanks to him ," she hisses in Yuri's direction. "I swear, it's like he was trying to make me into a single mother."

"Is her bedside manner always like this?" April whispers to me.

"I wouldn't know," I mutter back. "Never had the misfortune."

"I'll clear my calendar if you get shot," Petra offers.

My lips twitch. Truth is, I did get shot, but it didn't matter. Because I had someone looking out for me.

I glance down at my jacket. I haven't had time to change—we all came straight here. The bullet hole is still there, blinking back at me from the special fabric April's team created. An invisible, everyday armor.

Well, everyday for me. I doubt shop clerks out there are spending their days in three-piece suits, especially ones with this price tag. But I understand April's been thinking of expanding the scope. Already, her mind is on the next big thing. So who knows what the future might hold?

"Matvey." Yuri's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Can we talk?"

"You shouldn't be exerting yourself right now. Rest. We'll talk later."

"No, I…" he shakes his head. "I need to say this. I feel like I won't be able to sleep until I do."

I look at him. Once, he wouldn't have dared to contradict a direct order from me. But this isn't the same Yuri I met two days ago, a week ago, or even a year ago. This is someone else—someone new. And this someone isn't going to take no for an answer.

"Alright. Speak."

He gives a small, grateful nod. "When I found out we weren't…" He trails off. He doesn't need to finish that sentence—we all know what lies at the end. "I was scared. I thought that would be the end of us. That if it came out, we would… that you would…"

"I know," I say. "I know."

"But in the end, I just turned it into a self-fulfilling prophecy. My fears, my guilt—it all got away from me so fast. I wanted to dig myself out and didn't know how to do it. So I just kept digging myself deeper down."

"You thought it was necessary."

"No. I told myself it was." He looks at me then, eyes bright and open. For a second, he's the scrawny kid I found in the snow. "But I should've talked to you. I should've risked it. If I had, then maybe…"

The worst part is, I can't fill in the rest of that sentence, because I just don't know. If he'd told me, what would I have done?

I know I wouldn't have had him killed. I know I probably would've kept him in the higher-ups of my Bratva on his practical value alone. What I don't know is everything else.

Would I have kept thinking of him as a brother? As family ?

Would I have trusted him again?

I don't know. Because the truth is, Yuri isn't the only one who walked out of that warehouse a different man. And if I'm being honest, I was already someone else when I walked in.

Because the woman I love deserved better than that man.

She deserved the world.

And she deserves it still.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Yuri asks in the end. "Can we ever go back to the way things were?"

I sit on the edge of the bed. "You lied to me, Yura."

"I know."

"For months."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You kidnapped my woman and child and almost cost them their lives. You trusted the wrong person because you couldn't bring yourself to trust me. Hell, you didn't even trust Petra with the truth."

"I'm so sorry," he croaks. "I understand if you don't want anything to do with me after this. I'll accept any punishment. I'll?—"

"I'm not done."

Yuri falls silent. Everyone in the room has their gazes fixed on me, even May.

"You lied, kidnapped, deceived. You did that to the people closest to you."

"Motya…"

"And then you saved them."

He blinks. "What?"

"You saved them," I repeat. "You looked after them. You protected them from Carmine's overreach, made sure their safety was part of the deal. And then you ate a bullet for them." I finally let my expression thaw. "You chose wrong at first. But when you had to choose again, you chose them. You chose us. "

"But is that really okay?" Yuri protests. "Shouldn't I pay for what I've done?"

"Of course," I reply. "Effective immediately, you are no longer part of the Groza Bratva."

He nods, like he'd been expecting this. "The vory voted?"

"On the phone. Like you said, I can't keep stiffing them. Their voices matter, whether I like it or not."

"But I didn't just betray the Bratva. I betrayed you. I betrayed everyone."

"Yes. Blood betrayals are paid in blood." I tap my finger on the bandages, just shy of the bullet wound. "And it seems to me, you've already done that. So we're good."

"B-But…" Yuri stammers in disbelief. "But I'm not blood."

"Actually…"

I lift up my sleeve and show off a piece of gauze. It still itches like hell, but April's right: if I keep scratching it, it will just keep bleeding. "They didn't have enough blood bags for your type. They asked for a donor. Turns out we're a match."

"You… you gave your blood for me?" Yuri whispers. "Even after all I've done?"

"Yes. And now, we're blood again. In a way." I shake my head. "Not that it matters."

"What does that mean?"

Here we are. The million-dollar question: What does "blood" mean to me? I've had a lot of time to think about the answer. Before this all started, I'd already reached a new one. I just didn't know it yet.

"I won't pretend blood isn't important," I start. "It is. But it's not the only way to make a family. Being there for each other, protecting each other—that's what family truly is. Someone very special showed me that."

I turn to April. Her eyes are glistening, a watery smile on her lips. "Took you long enough," she mumbles.

Yeah. Too long. "I've had a very patient teacher."

Then I take her hand in mine.

"Any other questions, brother?"

"You really mean it?" he asks, voice unsteady. "You'll take me back?"

"If everyone else agrees."

April is the first to raise her hand. "I second the motion." Then May starts laughing, imitating her as if she's done something particularly funny. Her tiny hands reach for her uncle, almost out of habit, and Yuri's eyes get just a little bit shinier.

"You don't actually have to say it like that, you know."

"Killjoy."

Grisha shakes his head at our antics. "Well, let's see. I'm not particularly thrilled with the way this all went down . Loyalty isn't something you choose. It's something you either have or don't."

Yuri starts nodding. "I understand."

"And laying down your life for your comrades is exactly what being loyal means." Grisha smiles. "You're not a big, bad traitor, Yurochka . You're just way too goddamn dense."

"Ass!"

Here they go again. It's nice to see some things never change.

"Petra?"

All eyes turn to her. She's been quiet the longest, and also hurt the deepest. I can't begin to imagine what her answer will be. If this has been too much for her, I'd understand.

"I have a condition," she says eventually.

"Name it," Yuri whispers.

"Marry me." She grabs his hand before any of us can get over the shock, Yuri included. "Give me the wedding of my dreams. Or I swear, Yuri Romanov, you will see your kid grow up exclusively through postcards for as long as you live."

It's a weird proposal, to be sure.

It's also very much Petra's style.

And while any sane man would run in the other direction, IV drips be damned, my brother just cracks the biggest, stupidest grin in the world. "Third time's the charm, right?"

"You bet your ass it is."

Then she kisses him. If it can even be called a kiss. I feel like I'm watching a wildlife documentary about lions and gazelles—and Petra sure as fuck isn't the gazelle.

"We should probably give them some space," April mutters in my ear while blocking May's view.

"Yeah. And find some acid for my eyes, while we're at it."

"I'm sure the hospital staff will have something."

We head out of the room. "Grisha," I call.

"What?" he huffs. "I was enjoying the show."

"More like stacking up blackmail material."

"I'm only human, boss."

We ditch him to stand guard— far away from the door—and walk out into the parking lot. "So weird," April muses. "This is where I was kidnapped the first time."

"Here?" I frown.

"Yeah. Right between those two spots. There was a black van and it just swallowed me up."

"But you escaped."

"Of course." She flashes the cheekiest grin in the world. "Never mess with the pregnant ones."

"Do you regret it?" I ask. "Being snatched that day?"

It's a fair question. Even though so much has happened between us since then, I can't let myself forget how we got here. Originally, April wanted nothing to do with me. If Carmine hadn't gotten in the way, I might have never known I had a daughter.

I might have never known a lot of things.

For a second, April doesn't answer. She just looks up at me with her impossibly wide eyes, until a warm smile slowly spreads on her lips. "No," she answers, and I can hear the truth in her voice. "Because then I'd have never crashed your wedding."

"That's a weird reason."

"Is it?" she laughs. "It brought me here. It brought me to you. I don't think I need a better reason than that."

She finds my hand and interlaces our fingers. There's no ring, no material promise of what's to come, but there is something else I only notice now. Bruised and battered and blackened by dirt, but it's there.

The ribbon I gave her.

"You said, ‘Don't mess with the pregnant ones,'" I echo, drawing close. "Does that mean I can mess with you now?"

"That depends," she murmurs against my lips. "Are you going to kiss me half as good as that?"

"April Flowers," I drawl, her chin already between my fingers, "I will kiss you until my last breath."

Her cheeks dust with red. "Good answer," she whispers. "Now, prove it."

So I do. But when I kiss her this time, it's different from all the others.

Because, for the first time, I kiss her in the light of day.