Page 131 of Cashmere Cruelty

INCONCLUSIVE.

In his grip, the paper crumples. “What is the meaning of this?!”

“It means we’ll have to wait,” I answer, clipped. “Until the baby’s born.”

“Until it’sborn?!” Vlad’s eyes damn near bulge out of their sunken sockets. “This is a travesty!”

“This is biology,” I correct. “I’m afraid even the Bratva’s powerless against that.”

At first, I wonder if Vlad’s too far gone to listen to reason. My excuse is ironclad, but will it be enough?

An annoying part of me reminds me that Petra warned me about this.My father isn’t a patient man.

Luckily, I’m even less patient.

So when Vlad starts spluttering again to the tune of, “This is a trick! This is—” I stomp my foot down.

Hard.

“This,” I growl, taking yet another step forward, “is how it is. So either get with the program or get the fuck out my office. I can find another bride, but I can guarantee you’ll never find another heir.”

Vlad’s face goes up in flames. “You…!”

“Me,” I agree. “Me, who’s going to save your dying Bratva. Me, who’s going to double your numbers. Me, who’s going to marry your precious daughter.Me.So if I were you, I’d start showing a little respect.”

I don’t bother disguising my threat. I want it to be crystal clear: if he pisses me off, I can find a million ways to make him pay for it. Including making his daughter pay for him.

Of course, I’d never fucking do that. I’m not the kind of scum that goes after women and kids, regardless of whether the woman in question can or cannot kill you with a toothpick.

But Vlad doesn’t need to know that.

“That said, we’ve both invested a lot in this union.” I relax and unclench my fists. “I’m certain neither one of us wants to go back to square one for such a pointless reason. Right?”

It’s a question in name only. But Vlad’s a businessman, too, and it doesn’t take long for him to remember that. “Right,” he agrees uneasily. “I admit… I may have let myself get carried away.”

It’s as much of an apology as I’m going to get. Not that I give a fuck about Vladimir Solovyov’s regrets. “No matter. I’m glad we could clear this up.”

Vlad looks like he’s just swallowed a lemon. “Likewise.”

“Well then,” I say, grabbing my suitcase, “if there isn’t anything else?—”

“Actually, there is.”

I stop halfway to the door. Yuri and Grisha exchange a long look. “Speak,” I force out.

“We should bury the hatchet properly,” Vlad says. “Man to man.”

“We just did that.”

“Did we?” Vlad remarks. “I don’t see a drink.”

I roll my eyes inwardly. Of course—Vlad’s old school. To him, everything from a minor business deal to a shootout with a rival organization demands to be made official through alcohol.

“We haven’t shared a bottle since you asked for my daughter’s hand.” Vlad taps his foot lightly. “It’s long overdue. A man should drink with his future son.”

I nearly punch him then.I’m no one’s son. My mother’s dead and my father saw to it.

But I force myself to calm down. This close to the finish line, I can’t afford to slip up. Vlad’s goodwill is a better outcome than I hoped for—I shouldn’t let it go to waste.

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