Page 10 of Cashmere Ruin

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MATVEY

I’m startled awake by someone shaking my arm. “Matvey,” my brother’s voice calls, “wake up. Something’s happened.”

I pull myself up and check my watch: 2:33 A.M.

“It’s the dead of fucking night,” I snarl. My head’s pounding with a hangover; it hasn’t been an hour since I’ve actually managed to fall asleep. “This better be good.”

“It’s about April.”

I freeze. “You found her?”

That’s when I finally take stock of Yuri’s appearance: his mussed hair, his trembling hands. His eyes, wide with panic.

“Brother, what’s wrong?”

I’m terrified. For the first time since that day at the hospital, I remember what fear tastes like.

Yuri swallows. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Then he speaks.

“Yuri. It’s me. I need your help.”

I got her call at the wedding. Petra was off entertaining guests, and I’d lost sight of you in the crowd. I figured she was calling me because she couldn’t reach you, so I started looking for you.

But then she asked me to come alone.

She gave me a hospital’s name. That’s the kind of thing no one wants to hear on a phone call. So I got there as soon as I could.

That’s when I saw them.

April, in her hospital bed, holding a bundle in her arms. I was so happy for her—for you both. I got closer to see the baby; I wanted to know if she looked like you.

Then April said, “I need you to help me hide.”

At first, I didn’t understand. Icouldn’tunderstand. Why would April want to get away? Why would she want to hide your kid from you?

Then she told me.

She told me about what had happened between you two. That you told her you’d marry Petra and refused to explain yourself. That she was pregnant with your legitimate heir.

You can imagine how I felt then.

I was so selfish, Matvey. I asked you to keep that secret; to marry Petra so she could be safe. So thatmy childcould be safe.

I wasn’t thinking of April when I did.

But now, she was staring at me, begging me to understand. Begging me tohelpher.

So I did.

I brought her the discharge papers. I walked her to the car. I held her up the whole way there, watching her grit her teeth against the pain.

Then I took her to the penthouse. I helped her pack a getaway bag. I got the baby’s things, all the stuff she’d need on the run. I watched April write that letter.

I don’t know what I was thinking, Motya. Only that the guilt was tearing me apart. The guilt of ruining her life. The guilt of ruining yours.