Page 9 of Cashmere Ruin

“Then he has a bone to pick with you,” the man rephrases. “A baby-shaped one, I’d say. Surely you’ve heard of the search parties?”

Of course I’ve heard of the search parties. All this time, Matvey has done nothing but look for his daughter. For us.

“What do you think is going to happen when he finds you?” he asks, voice dropping to a hiss. For the first time since this conversation started, there isn’t a trace of humor in his words. “What do you think he’s going to do to the woman who beat him at his own game? To the illegitimate heir he never wanted? … Are you laughing, Ms. Flowers?”

I can’t help it: I am. It’s a sudden, bursting sound that catches even me by surprise. Because certainly this man can’t be suggesting what I think he is.

Matvey, wanting toharmus?

I’d sooner accept the ocean going dry.

He may be an asshole. He may have promised me the world and thrown me away like a broken doll right after. He may be unfit to raise my child, to build the home she deserves.

But I know he’d never hurt us.Never.

Not on purpose, at least.

“I don’t need your protection.”

That’s when I make my worst mistake: I forget.

I forget about the phone under the covers. I forget about the weapon in the stranger’s hands. Most of all, I forget to keep my emotions in check.

I forget and cock my gun.

“Get out,” I spit.

It’s a misstep. I should have kept him talking and bought enough time to text Yuri. But now, it’s too late.

The shadows around me grow, multiply: men, a dozen of them. Where did they come from?When?

That’s when I realize: I had it wrong all along.

I wasn’t the one distracting him.

He was the one distractingme.

“What a shame,” the man sighs. “I was hoping you’d do this of your own free will. Oh, well.” He makes a single gesture in the dark, and all at once, the figures loom closer.

That’s when I turn to my last card: begging.

“Stop!” I blurt out. “Please. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten involved with Matvey Groza.”

The men descend on me. I see it play out as if in slow motion: a thousand shadows, falling upon me as one.

I decide to pull the trigger, but again, I’m too late.

My finger twitches, but before I can even squeeze it all the way down, the gun is slapped out of my grip.

As the back of someone’s hand descends at the base of my neck, one last thought crosses my mind.

My baby.

I reach for her.

But darkness takes me first.