He was my father. “Was”—past tense. Either something happened to the old bastard, or he did something himself.
Something that made even April cut him off for good.
And suddenly, it’s like I’ve got a knife lodged between my ribs, cutting deeper and deeper with every breath. It’s all I can think about: April and the baby, defenseless in a den of wolves, without a single soul to protect them. Without me.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Then use your words, Matvey, because I’m too tired for games.”
“You want my words?” I snap. “I’ll use my words then: what the f**k were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I was going to see my father!” she yells back. “That he wanted to meet his granddaughter, not that he’d try to buy her off of me!”
“He offered me half a million dollars,” April explains in a de
