Page 215 of Cashmere Cruelty

Pick up, goddammit.

And then, the last text:

I’m coming there.

“I see your phone isn’t broken after all,” Grisha quips, appearing at my side with uncanny timing.

I’m flooded with shame—with rage. At the world, but more specifically at the man in front of me. Why didn’t he come sooner? Why didn’t he send for me? Why didn’t he call Yuri if it was so fucking important?!

But I know I’m just making excuses.

Because, most of all, I’m angry at myself.

Once again, I didn’t answer. April needed me—and I didn’t fucking answer.

“Take me to her,” I bark. “Now.”

As we move towards the parking lot, someone yanks me by the arm. “Where ya going, son?”

“Let go, Vlad.”

“Nonsense,” my shitfaced father-in-law spits. His breath smells like something crawled into his mouth and died horribly. It takes all my willpower not to vomit. “It’s yer wedding, son.”

“I’m wed. Wedding’s over.”

“The guests are going to talk.”

“Then let them.”

“Son—”

“Call me ‘son’ one more time,” I snarl in his face. “See what fucking happens.”

Hands up in defeat, Vlad lets go of me.

“That wasn’t wise,” Grisha comments dryly. “Vlad’s a spiteful man. And he’s got a long memory.”

“Ask me if I give a fuck,” I bite out. “Blyat’, where the hell is my brother?”

All the way to the car, I keep trying to call him, but it goes straight to voicemail.Serves you right, the bitter part of me snarks.

“Can we really afford to wait for him?” Grisha frowns.

I don’t appreciate how clear he’s making his disapproval. Once this thing is over, I’m gonna need to have a long, hard talk with him about insubordination and its consequences.

“No,” I say. “Drive.”

“Alright.”

“Like the fucking wind, Grisha.”

“Yes,pakhan.”

All the way there, a single thought keeps me from punching the car door off its hinges:I’m going to meet my child.

When I get to the hospital, I don’t stop to look where I’m going. I don’t stop as the nurses yell at me, as security tries to stop me from going up to the maternity ward.

I only stop to roar one question.