Page 28 of Cashmere Cruelty

Her words sober me up. “It’s not all lost, Petra. This is just a setback.”

“‘A setback’?” Petra laughs, bitter and cruel. “That’s apregnant fucking womanyou’ve got in your penthouse, Matvey. And yes, I know where you’re hiding her. We’re not all idiots in here.”

The implication makes my blood boil. “You won’t touch her.”

“Youshouldn’t have touched her!” Petra all but shouts. “We agreed to this, Matvey! Us!”

I grit my teeth. “A political agreement, I’m sure you’ll remember.”

“Well, how’s this for politics?” my scorned bride-slash-business partner snarls. “My father—who’s also thepakhanof the Bratva you’re looking to take over, in case you forgot—is never going to let me marry a cheater!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I hate Petra’s screaming tantrums, but I hate even more when they’re justified.

Vlad’s a man of tradition. To someone like him, honor matters more than anything. And nothing screams “dishonor”like an out-of-wedlock baby on the way.

“We have no choice,” Petra says, pacing up and down in her gigantic skirts. “We have to handle this.”

“Petra.”

“Maybe it’s not yours,” she continues, a crazed look of hope in her eyes. “She could be a spy, right? She could be on our enemies’ payroll?—”

“Petra.”

My tone forces her to look at me. Like this, all dressed in white and with tear marks on her cheeks, she would make even themost stone-hearted man feel like the worst piece of shit to ever walk the Earth.

Luckily, that’s not my case. A heart of stone is still a heart, after all, and I don’t have that burden. “She had a paternity test. It’s mine.”

Petra slumps on the floor like a deflated soufflé. “Then we’re done. It’s over.”

“It’s not over.” I crouch to her level, forcing her to look me in the eye. To listen, for fucking once. “No one knows about the test. Only me, Yuri, and now, you. And I’m having him run the DNA again to be certain.”

“So it could be fake?” Petra blurts out, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“It could be… but I don’t think it is.”

The hope shatters.

“But,” I add, offering Petra a handful of tissues, “taking the test will buy us time. Time to convince Vlad to let us move forward.”

Petra blows into the tissues. “He’ll never buy it.”

“He will,” I tell her confidently. “Because we’ll sell it. We’ll sell it like we sold him this,” I say, gesturing between us. “And because his baby girl will be there, advocating for her fiancé’s honor.”

Petra pauses mid-sniffle. “You’re dumping this on me, aren’t you?”

“Never,” I lie. “I’ll talk to Vlad, too. I’ll sing him your praises and say my hands are tied. Waiting for the test is the honorable thing to do. He won’t like it, but he won’t say no.”

“But you still need me to sell it.”

God help me, I do. I nod grimly. “It won’t work unless it comes from you first.”

Petra seems to mull it over. I can tell she’s almost there: she just needs a little push.

“You can consider this your first mission asvorof the Groza Bratva,” I add.

“Alright,” Petra finally sighs. “I can tell you’re fucking with me, but frankly, I don’t care.”

“Attagirl.”

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