Page 147 of Cashmere Ruin

“That guy…” he heaves. “H-He was here before. I told him… everything…”

Sirens start blaring in my head. “What guy?” I shake Anatoly by the shoulders. “Who was here before me?”

“You know him… you, y-you…”

Shit. I shouldn’t have called Yuri away this morning.“Talk to me, Anatoly. Talk to me and you’re free: who came here?”

“He’s your… h-he’s…”

Suddenly, he starts foaming at the mouth. Blood mixes with it, coming down his chin in rivers. Fucking hell, did I hit him too hard?

A seizure, I realize. That’s why Yuri was going easy: he must’ve known Anatoly was sick.

And, like an idiot, I stepped right into it.

“Call our doctor,” I bark at Grisha. “Hurry!”

But he’s barely dialed two digits when Anatoly’s head rolls back, his tremors stopping.

I check his eyes: glassy, lifeless.

Dead.

“Shit!” I kick the tool cart over. “Fucking HELL!”

It takes me a minute to calm down. By the time I’m done trashing the room, I’m breathing hard and heavy. Cautiously, Grisha approaches me. “Did he say who he’s been talking to?”

“He didn’t have to. He said enough.”

You know him.Those words are lodged into my brain like splinters. And then the other thing he was trying to get out.He’s your…

“My father,” I growl.

All this time, I’ve been following Vlad around like a fool, but he never had anything to do with it. The spy was on the Groza side—myside.

And my father was the one pulling the strings.

Again, Carmine’s been one step ahead of me.

Again, he’s taken away my only witness.

And again, I let him.

“FUCK!”

“Matvey,” Grisha calls urgently, “there’s something you need to know.”

“What?”

He lifts his phone. “The bodyguards just texted me. Someone’s at the penthouse. He said he was family, so they let him up.”

I feel the blood drain from me. “Who?”

“They took a picture.”

I stare at the screen.It can’t be. Not now, not today.

Why the fuck is this happening now?!

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