Page 137 of Cashmere Ruin
“I mean… Imean…!”
April gives a sad little nod. “Okay. If that’s what you want. Goodbye, Anne.” Then she turns to leave, my hand firmly in hers.
“You okay?” I whisper as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Yeah, I just… I thought maybe she could still come back to her senses. I know half her act is her mother’s doing, so… I don’t know.” She sighs. “Guess I hadn’t given up all hope after all.”
I squeeze her hand. I can’t blame her for wanting to try to salvage her relationship with her sister. For hoping they could become like her and Charlie: united despite the interference of their parents. “Some people don’t change. And it’s not your job to change them.”
She smiles. “I know. It’s gotten me a while to get here, but… now, I know.” Her fingers interlace with mine. “Love changes people. And people who don’t love anyone but themselves will never change. That’s okay, too.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. I’ve already got somebody who loves me.”
I pull her closer to me, and we step out under the stars.
My good mood from April’s victory carries well into the morning. It’s almost a pity I’m going to have to spoil it.
“Well?”
Next to me, Yuri’s tapping his foot nervously. I don’t blame him. After that meeting at my loft, I still haven’t clarified this part of my plan.
But soon, all will become clear.
The two representatives from the Groza and Solovyov teams stand before me. They’re two young recruits, messengers sent to the slaughter, to take credit for their bosses if they win and take the fall if they lose. I can’t say I envy their positions, but I also don’t give a shit. They’re Bratva—they knew what they were signing up for. Besides, it’s not like they’re doing it for free: if thevorysent them up, it’s because they’re the candidates they chose to join their ranks.
But there will be no promotion today. Not that any of these men know that quite yet.
“You.” I point to the Solovyov recruit. “Talk.”
“Sir…” the recruit begins. His name is Lev, one of Vlad’s entourage, still wet behind the ears. “I’m terribly sorry,pakhan. The deal for the right half of the building was about to be concluded when…”
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “A mystery buyer stole it from under your nose.”
His face tells me I’m correct. “If you’ll just give me another chance?—”
“No need. Get out.”
“Sir, please?—”
“No.” I rise from my seat. “I expected better. Clearly, the Solovyov Bratva wasn’t used to winning. That’s going to have to change here.”
He swallows. “Yes,pakhan.”
“Now, go before I change my mind.”
I watch him scurry away like a rat, tail tucked between his legs and folders forgotten. “Why did you let him go?” Yuri whispers.
“You’ll see,” I reply in hushed tones. Then I turn to the Groza recruit—my own man. “Anatoly. What do you have for me?”
He sets the folder on the desk. “The left side was acquired without troubles, sir. Here is the paperwork.”
I flip through the file. “Nice work. Flawless, really.”
“Thank you,pakhan.”
He doesn’t see it coming. For some reason, they never do.