Page 19 of Cashmere Ruin

“I said?—”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Matvey’s gaze grows in and out of focus. He’s lost so much blood, he can’t even tellwhichfinger I’m holding up. And that should be an easy one. “Fine,” he grumbles eventually. “Do what you must.”

Only then does Yuri finally start heading out.

At the door, though, Matvey stops him. “Yura… it’s him.”

Yuri doesn’t say anything to that. He simply stops, a heartbeat and a half, before obeying hispakhan’s orders and fleeing into the night after Carmine.

No—aftertheir father.

Then the cabin turns silent.

Matvey’s gaze wanders around the room. Mine isn’t any steadier. After all that’s gone down, we’re left with nothing to say to each other.

Again.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him.” Anything to break this wretched silence.

“I’ll be as hard on my brother as I like,” he growls back.

“It’s my fault he did what he did. I put him in an impossible position.”

“Believe me—I know.”

It’s the way he spits out those words, filled with venom and contempt, that finally makes me snap. “Did you even mean a word of what you said? Or was it all just coded language?”

Matvey stays silent.I was an idiot. I’m sorry.

No,Iwas the idiot. For ever believing him again.

“Take off your jacket and shirt,” I sigh.

Matvey gives me a cold glare. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, you do. So either take them off or bleed to death.” Then, because he might actually pick the latter, I add, “I won’t have you holding your daughter with blood all over you.”

At those words, he finally seems to remember the reason he’s here. Because at this point, it sure as hell isn’t for me. “Where is she?”

I grab her from my other side. With the bullet wound, it’s all Matvey can do to wait for me to place her in his arms. I don’t make him wait long.

As soon as he’s stripped bare to the waist, I give her to him. My daughter.Hisdaughter.

The second I do, I feel faint.

Because all my mistakes hit me like a freight train.

His eyes light up. Every single muscle softens on his face, lips parting into an expression of pure wonder. It’s like he’s realizing it for the first time:I have a daughter. This is my daughter.

And I’m the one who took her from him.

What was I thinking?

If I had my way, I would have kept her from him forever. Kept her safe with me, where I knew she would be happy. That’s whatI’ve been telling myself over and over: she would be happy withme.

But how could I truly know that? How can I still think that, when her father is looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen?

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