Page 183 of Cashmere Ruin

I clench my fists. Great. So everyone realizedsomethingdidn’t add up—everyone but me. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t have any proof. Besides…” His usual poker face morphs into something rare: a smile. “Would you have listened?”

It’s the saddest smile I’ve ever seen.

Goddammit.He’s right. I wouldn’t have listened at all. One word from Yuri, one denial, and I would’ve considered the matter closed. Worse, I might’ve turned my fangs against the one accusing my brother in the first place.

My brother.

If only we were that.

A memory bubbles up: Yuri and I, storming out of Ipatiy’s club. No—mestorming out, Yuri rushing to catch up at my heels. He was warning me about something, but I didn’t want to hear it. That I couldn’t alienate thevoryjust because they weren’t blood. That it was wrong of me to treat them as “glorified attack dogs,” as I’d so elegantly put it.

He told me,“Even the most loyal dog will bite if backed into a corner.”

What did I say in return?

Try as I might, I just can’t remember.

“Who’s coming?” I ask Grisha instead, determined to put my—Yuri—out of my mind.

“Vlad’s men,” he replies. “Ourvoryare gathering at the HQ right now. They want to discuss the implications of moving against Carmine before they lend their support.”

“Fucking cowards,” I spit. “They’re Bratva, not a bunch of shareholders. Why the hell can’t they remember that?”

“My guess is they have no one to keep them in line now,” Grisha remarks. “Not after…”

Ivan.

“I see.”

It’s not a good feeling, when your mistakes catch up to you. It’s even worse when they do it all at once, one after the other. An avalanche of wrong choices.

If I’m not careful, they will be the dirt on my grave.

“Go to them,” I tell Grisha. “Remind them what it means to be Bratva. By any means necessary.”

“Do I have the authority to do that?” he asks.

“You do now,brigadir.”

I shake his hand and seal the deal. It’s firm, refreshingly real. Grisha’s face is lacking any of the joy that usually comes with a promotion, showing instead the grim expression of a soldier on the battlefield.

Good. I need men who understand duty around me.

Duty… and loyalty.

“Be careful,” I tell him.

He nods. “You, too,pakhan.”

I watch him go, the car speeding off into New York traffic. Any time now, Vlad should be here with half my army. The irony doesn’t escape me: I spent so long suspecting the wrong man, and now, here I am, waiting for him to bring the cavalry.

Some leader I turned out to be.

I spy a long line of black cars. One by one, they crowd the alley next to the warehouse and start spitting out men in suits.Vlad’smen.

Then another car speeds into the alley, nearly crashing into the last one. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

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