Page 193 of Cashmere Ruin

While the first guard’s busy with April, the second one kneels by Petra’s side. He has his gun drawn, seemingly under some mistaken notion that it’s going to save his ass.

It’s not.

“BLYAT’!”

Petra gives the signal, and I sprint into action.

I launch myself out of the shadows and kick the guard’s gun out of his grip. The second he’s disarmed, Petra stops screaming and elbows him right in the ribs, then at the back of the head.

One down, one to go.

I steal the gun and glance up to see how April’s doing…

“OW! YOU BITCH!”

… just in time to watch her yank her target face-first into the bars.

“Well,” April comments. “That was easy.”

“That was awful,” Petra complains. “My throat’s gonna be sore for days.”

“I’m sure the company will sponsor your honey and tea,” I deadpan.

We put our handcuffs on the guards. It’ll take a while for them to come to, but one can never be too careful.

Speaking of…

I take off my socks, ball them up, and stuff them in the first guy’s mouth. “That’s for disrespecting my fiancée,mudak.”

If it were up to me, I’d have kicked himandshot him, risks be damned. But we’ve already made too much noise—a gunshot would summon Carmine’s entire army in a heartbeat.

Besides, April’s here. And I don’t want to expose her to any more bloodshed than she needs to see.

Petra frowns. “Fiancée?”

I toss her the second gun. “Right,” I reply. “I forgot to tell you.”

She catches it out of the air. “Tell me what?”

I grin. “I want a divorce.”

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On the list ofTop Three Hottest Things Matvey’s Ever Done:

Disarm a guard with a flying round kick straight out of a kung fu movie;

Finger-fuck me in the Mallard’s bathroom, within earshot of half my family;