Page 170 of Cashmere Cruelty

“That’s impossible,” I bark. “If April had any plans to go out, I would know.”

“Riiiight.” June cringes. “She might have kinda, sorta, totally forgotten to tell you?” I feel a vein popping on my forehead. June must see it, because she starts rambling again. “But she was feeling really bad about it! Like, super guilty! She even wanted to cancel but couldn’t reach Petra at all?—”

“Petra was supposed to come with you?” Grisha butts in.

“I mean, yeah. She had hired muscle and all. April figured it’d be safe to go if she was protected, and Petra volunteered. She was planning to ask if it was okay but then he wouldn’t talk to her and he wouldn’t kiss her hand or something anymore? Anyway?—”

Those words strike the anger clean off me. I was ready to go off—April had broken the rulesagain, kept something from meagain—but as soon as June says that, I freeze.

She felt like she couldn’t tell me because…?

I stride into the penthouse. My fury redirects towards a single target:Petra.

I take in the state of the room. There are no signs of struggle, none that would jump to the eye. The only thing that’s clearly out of place is the cracked phone on the ground, one I immediately recognize as April’s.

“You said your call cut off,” I tell June. “How long ago was that?”

“About half an hour.”

The rest of the living room’s exactly as I left it.

The bedroom, on the other hand, is not.

There are clothes strewn everywhere: dresses, shoes, you name it. It looks like a bomb went off in the closet. But unless someone was interrupted halfway through robbing April’s wardrobe, I’m inclined to guess this was her own doing. As if she really had forgotten she was supposed to go out.

And then, as soon as I step inside, I hear something crunch under my foot.

I bend to pick it up and look it over.

An earring. A single, black pearl earring.

Something happened, I realize.She was interrupted while she was getting ready.

“You,” I bark. “Come here.”

June obliges, her face still scrunched up in displeasure. “Here I am, charmer.”

“You said you were on the phone with her. Walk me through what happened.”

“First, she was trying to find clothes,” June explains, stepping towards the mess at the center of the room. “She was in a panic. Hadn’t prepared an outfit—which, if you know her, you know it’s a tragedy.”

“And then?”

“Then she was putting on her earrings.” June walks over to the mirror. “She was struggling with them, though. Cursed like a sailor—for her standards, I mean. Then the doorbell rang.”

That’s it. She went to answer the door.

If it was Petra, she wouldn’t have hesitated to open. If it was Petra…

I stride back to the kitchen and punch the counter with all my strength. “Fuck!”

Right then, Yuri rushes in. “Matvey, is it true? April’s missing?”

“Yes.” I glare. “And if you hadn’t been out chasing butterflies, I wouldn’t have to fucking loop you in!”

Yuri’s face looks stricken. But right now, I don’t have the bandwidth to care. He fucked up. He prioritized the wrong thing.

And so did I.

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