Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1) (28 page)

Her chest suddenly constricted with the heavy undercurrent
of his words. They seemed safe enough on the surface, but had no doubt they
would probably hurt if she looked a little deeper.

“Either we ended it,” Kaz said, as cool and calm as ever,
“or we didn’t.”

Violet swallowed the lump keeping her quiet. “We didn’t.”

“What do you want, hmm?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

Kaz lifted a hand, gesturing to his place, and then between
them. “How many times do you want to keep coming here? Staying the night?
Sleeping with me, in my bed? Wearing my clothes, cooking in my kitchen?
Sneaking away from your father, waking me up in the middle of the night … and I
can keep going, Violet.”

He could.

“So maybe I haven’t seen it like that,” she whispered.

“That’s a lie. You see it exactly the same way, or you
wouldn’t do it at all because you wouldn’t want to do it.”

Violet hated how he always did that in one way or another.
She was used to turning cheek to things she didn’t want to see, or even
sticking her head in the sand because it was easier.

Kaz didn’t let her do that.

He forced her to look around, to take inventory and
accountability.

She lived a hell of a lot more in the short time she spent
with him then she ever did when she was alone.

It was good.

But it was bad, too.

“For the record,” Kaz said quietly, making Violet look up
at him again.

“What?”

“I like you being here. Doing those things, all of those
things. And the things I didn't say, too. If I had wanted you to stop, if I
didn’t want to see where this was going to go, then it would have ended a long
while ago.”

Yeah, she knew that, too.

Violet didn’t understand a lot of the shit she felt and
thought where Kaz was concerned, but what she did, she liked. And she wasn’t
ready to end it like that.

Pushing off the stool, Violet made her way around the
island to stand beside Kaz. He watched her the whole while, saying nothing.
Moving sideways a bit, he offered her a hand, and she took it, stepping up to
sit on his lap. An arm wrapped around her waist, and his hand landed to her
bare thigh.

The touch alone was possessive.

Like he intended to keep it there.

“Eat,” he said, tugging her container across the counter
and picking up the fork for her to take again.

Kaz’s chin rested on her shoulder.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

Violet didn’t feel like she had to expand on that
statement.

Wasn’t it obvious enough?

What were they doing with one another?

Together?

Kaz used his fork to cut a piece of her French toast, and
lifted it to Violet for her to take. “Eating.”

“Not what I meant.”

“I think this is exactly what you meant.”

It was, sort of.

The realization came hard and swift.

She wouldn’t be there, otherwise. She wouldn’t have crossed
that distance to be closer. She wouldn’t want him holding her like he was.

Intimate.

Sweet.

What was that word he’d used once?

Domestic
?

“We’ll figure it out,” Kaz said, his words whispering along
her skin.

“Will we?”

“Somehow.”

O
ne week slipped into
two, two slipped into four, and before Kaz knew it, an entire month had passed
in the blink of an eye. That time was mostly a blur, but the majority of it had
been spent with Violet. Despite Ruslan’s appearance at his place, things hadn’t
changed much at all. She was still coming to him, sleeping in his bed, and
making his place feel like a home even though he had been living there for
years now.

It had finally clicked in him, the difference her presence
made. He was more relaxed, happy even, and despite that their relationship was
mostly confined within those four walls, he didn’t mind it. Kaz didn’t need
others to tell him she was his, he only needed to see the way her face lit up
when she saw him to know the answer to that.

Kaz had only dropped her off a little more than an hour ago
before he got a call from Vasily, telling him to come in. After their last
conversation, he had done well to steer clear of his father, besides the few
times they had needed to meet for
Bratva
business.

Though anytime Vasily called him for a meet, it was in the
warehouse. Vasily had made a different request, texting him an address he
wasn’t familiar with. It was still within the limits of Little Odessa, but Kaz
had never had a reason to go to that side, especially when he had no business
over there. But when the boss called, even if it was the last thing he wanted
to do, he went.

The house Kaz arrived at was in the middle of nowhere, land
as far out as the eye could see. It was a pretty secluded place, and for the
second time, he wondered what purpose his father had in bringing him here. And
unlike the last time his father had called on him for a private meeting, he didn’t
go in unarmed.

“Good of you to finally join me,” Vasily said once Kaz was
inside, reclining back in one of the two wing-backed chairs in the living room.

Raj was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking
just as imposing as ever. The last thing Kaz wanted to do was put his back to
the man, because while he was sure he could take Vasily, Raj was capable of
things he didn’t even want to consider.

Vasily, noticing Kaz’s choice to stick close to the door,
smiled, though the sight of it did nothing to calm him. “Is there a problem,
Kazimir?”

“Not at all. You called for a meet, here I am.”

“Of course.” Vasily reached for the carafe of whiskey to
his left, and the glass sitting next to it, pouring himself a drink. “When you
were a boy, I didn’t expect great things from you. Your brother, on the other
hand, he was the perfect son. Even with him idolizing Gavrill, I knew he would
be exactly what any father could hope for in this brotherhood of ours. I knew
the moment he’d sworn the words that he would be my successor, but that all
came to an end rather quickly, no? When I caught him fucking that man.”

Kaz didn’t react to Vasily’s words—it wasn’t like this was
a secret finally being revealed. He remembered all too well the night Vasily
learned that Ruslan was gay. That was both the day Ruslan had come out of the
closet, and Kaz had learned to truly hate the man that spawned him.

Despite the changes to the
Bratva
, and the advances
their organization had made over the years, there was still one concept that Vasily
had refused to let go of—no man in his
Bratva
would be gay. Kaz was sure
that if it were not for the blood that ran in Ruslan’s veins, his brother would
be dead by Vasily’s hand. He had almost done it that night, using his fists to
tell Ruslan exactly how he felt about his preference in sex.

Ruslan, for reasons known only to him, had not fought back,
had merely taken the onslaught of hits until he wasn’t conscious anymore. Kaz
had only arrived later to find the result of his father’s disgust. From that
day forward, Ruslan had been practically disowned within their family, forced
out as though he was nothing at all. He still had his place within the
organization, Vasily hadn’t taken that away, but it had become quite clear that
Ruslan was no longer Vasily’s intended successor.

“You, however,” Vasily said dragging Kaz back to the
present conversation, “as defiant as you are, I was surprised you had made it
to this point. I won’t say that you’re not good at what you do, you’ve
obviously done quite well for yourself, but you lack discipline. You fail to
realize that there are consequences to your actions and that no one, not even
you, can defy me.”

Kaz pushed off the wall, striding further into the room.
“What are you getting at, Vasily?”

“I was curious,” he went on as though Kaz hadn’t spoken,
“as to why you haven’t been around as much lately, and when you are, you’re
asking questions that are of little importance. So I did some digging of my
own, Kazimir—and let me be honest, I almost wished you had the same
predilection as your brother. At least that could be contained. But Violet
Gallucci? I thought you knew better than that.”

Vasily withdrew a picture, and even from his distance, Kaz
could clearly make out his own face, along with Violet’s. He still remembered
that day … picking her up and grabbing ice cream on their way back to his
place, before she had spent the night. It had been a good day, but he had never
suspected that he was being followed, that anyone had gotten that close to him
to take pictures.

How the fuck hadn’t he noticed?

“I’ve been lenient with you, Kazimir,” Vasily went on. “I
allow you your tantrums, your displays of defiance in the presence of others.
You’re still young, after all. But on this, I have never, and will not ever,
bend. This is your last chance to heed me, boy. Walk away. Do not go near her
again. This is my final warning. If she means that much to you, think of an
excuse, I don’t give a fuck. But when you leave this place today, I want there
to be no mistake. Violet Gallucci no longer exists to you. Am I understood?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Kaz said, his voice steady, his eyes
locked on Vasily. “But understand
me
. I’m not going to walk away from
her because you command it.”

He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. She was too important to
him, too ingrained in every aspect of his life for him to try and dig her out.
If he did, he wasn’t sure what was going to be left.

Now, it was Vasily getting to his feet, that mask of
indifference slipping as the anger peeked through. “Do not force my hand,
Kazimir. I am at least trying to give you the opportunity to finish this on
your own.”

“Why?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Keeping us apart, why is that so important to you? Our
families have been enemies for years, but that could end just by us being
together. At the very least, it would ensure that neither attacks the other.
What are you hiding that might get exposed?”

It was clear that Vasily had been expecting the question,
as his mask didn’t slip again. “Next time, I won’t be so generous.”

Kaz got close enough to Vasily to make sure his point
couldn’t be misunderstood. “Believe me when I say that the last thing I need is
your generosity. And until you burn these fucking stars off my chest, you don’t
get to control who I’m with. You want to speak on Rus, then speak on the
consequences of
your
actions, because the only reason I let you walk
away was because he asked it of me. If you think to touch a hair on Violet’s
head, I’ll bury you.”

“Kazimir, you—”

“Over the years, you’ve made it quite clear where I stand
with you. You want our name to continue on, and the only way you can have that
is through me. If I’m going to take that seat, I’ll do it the way I want. Now,
do
you
understand
me
?”

Vasily was quiet for some time as he stood opposite Kaz,
staring him down like he had never witnessed this side of him before. He had
obviously thought it would be easy, that he would merely need to give a command
and Kaz would heed it. But there was one thing about Kaz that he seemed to have
forgotten. Kaz was never one to blindly follow rules.

That just wasn’t who he was.

“Sure,” Vasily said after a spell, “I understand
completely, but I do have a question for you, Kazimir. What do you think
Alberto Gallucci will do to that daughter of his once he finds out who she’s
spreading her legs for?”

“You fucking wouldn’t …”

Vasily held the picture up once more, waving it in front of
Kaz’s face. “A picture tells a thousand truths, and this … this is just one of
many that I have.” He shook his head, a laugh escaping him, “You should have
kept those curtains closed, Kazimir.”

Violet kept her head down, attention focused solely on the
silent phone in her hand, as she walked toward the entrance of her building.
Like she had a hundred times earlier that day, she checked through her call log
and her text messages.

She already knew what it would say.

No missed calls.

No new texts.

Violet chewed on her inner cheek, barely noticing the
people passing her by on the busy street. The messenger bag hanging off her
shoulder, filled with her stuff from school and her laptop, felt heavier for no
reason in particular. She already had enough invisible weight wearing her down,
the bag only added more.

Selecting a familiar contact on the phone log, Violet
scrolled down to the last message she had gotten from the number.

One week prior.

Next time. -K.

That was it.

Violet hadn’t heard a single thing from Kaz since that last
message he sent after he dropped her off just beyond the Little Odessa border.
She’d called a couple of times, but it rang through to voicemail, and she
didn’t exactly think it was smart to leave that type of message.

But he knew her number.

And so she waited for something to come back, and when it
didn’t, Violet started to worry that maybe something was wrong. The worry
turned to anger, but that quickly bled away.

Kaz wasn’t the type to drop someone—her—with nothing, not
even a call at least.

Violet went back to worry in a blink.

“Miss Gallucci?”

Lost in her thoughts and concerns, Violet hadn’t realized
she was standing in front of her building with her attention still down on her
phone, and her feet practically cemented to the ground.

Violet’s head snapped up at an unfamiliar voice calling her
name. She found a tall, thin man wearing a black ensemble, sunglasses included,
standing right in front of her, blocking her path to her building’s entrance
doors. In his hand, he held a manila envelope that looked to be a foot long,
the same in width, and a half of an inch thick.

“You are Violet Gallucci, yes?” he asked.

Other than his lips moving, the man’s expression never
changed from the stony mask he wore. Violet might have thought he was a statue
had he stayed quiet, and she probably would have run right into him because of
her distraction.

What concerned her more, was the familiar accent coloring
his words.

Russian.

There should be no Russians approaching her in front of her
building.

“You can talk, can’t you?” the man questioned.

Violet’s gaze narrowed. “I can.”