Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1) (7 page)

Placing his glass back on the counter, Vasily laid both
hands down, leaning his weight into them as he narrowed cold eyes on Kaz. His
displeasure bled out of him. “What did you say?”

Kaz had a choice, everyone always had a choice, just as
he’d told Violet last night. He could repeat himself, risk his father’s wrath,
or he could bite his tongue and stay silent. Knowing his mother was still
somewhere in the house, Kaz chose the latter.

“Nothing.” It took a lot for him to even voice that—Kaz
wasn’t usually one to back down from a fight.

A heartbeat’s time. Two. Then, Vasily’s shoulders relaxed
as he straightened. “Finish what you were saying.”

“Ruslan took one home.” Kaz didn’t remember the girl’s
name, or had he even bothered to find out? “And Nathaniel took the other to the
hospital. Undoubtedly, you already know this. So, instead of wasting time on
what we already know, how about you tell me the real reason you called me
here.”

Vasily frowned. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why was any of that necessary?” Vasily elaborated. “What
happened before this?”

Truthfully, Kaz hadn’t thought much of what had ultimately
caused the girls to be in Ruslan’s office. The only thing he remembered hearing
was a glass breaking near the bar, and the girls’ cries of alarm from where
he’d stood with Ruslan.

While his brother had immediately went to help the women,
Kaz had lingered behind, making sure the broken glass was cleaned up and that
no one else was hurt,
then
he went to see if his brother needed any help
with them.

“One had too much to drink, I assume. I didn’t see it all.”

That did nothing to placate his father, however. He still
looked baffled, and a bit annoyed by it all. “You knew better,” Vasily said
again, shaking his head. “How many times have I told you that Brooklyn is
off-limits to you? And that you were to never be around the daughter of
Gallucci.”

The first he had said so many times that Kaz thought his
head would bleed. And the second had been repeated a few times, but not nearly
as much as the first. It wasn’t as though Kaz had had any interest in Violet
before last night. He had never given the girl a second thought.

“Plenty.”

“Then don’t let it happen again. The last thing I need is
Alberto Gallucci giving me shit because you’re making moves on that daughter of
his.”

Kaz sat back with a shrug. “Duly noted.”

The front door opened with a crash, the sound of two
giggling teenagers breaking up the somber mood that had settled in the kitchen.
Just as before, Kaz let down his guard as his two younger sisters, Dina and
Nika, came barreling into the kitchen, oblivious to the tension that had just
been there.

Of the two, Nika was the more outgoing. Dina let her sister
lead, waiting her turn as Nika immediately came over to him and wrapped her
arms around him. Getting to his feet, Kaz returned the embrace, reaching to
bring Dina into the fold as well.

“Kaz, what are you doing here?” Nika asked, smiling up at
him.

“Just visiting,” he returned smoothly. “And coming to ask
what the two of you wanted for your birthday?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Vasily nodding.

Nika looked to Dina, and Dina back to her before they both
looked to Kaz and said simultaneously, “Clothes.”

“There’s this new place over on Sixteenth Street,” Dina
said in a rush, picking up on her sister’s excitement. “We’ve been dying to go,
but because Nika is having trouble in school …”

“Dina!”

“What?” she returned with an arch of her brow. “It’s not
like he won’t find out from Dad.”

“But you didn’t have to be the one to tell him!”

And there they went, arguing as though there was no one
else in the room.

Remembering that their birthday was only two weeks away,
reminded Kaz of their party and the conversation he’d had with Ruslan the night
before. In the chaos of everything that had gone down, he’d forgotten this, and
the fact that Vasily hadn’t bothered to send Ruslan an invitation.

What better time to bring it up than right then?

“No worries,” he said, interrupting their banter. “I was
just talking to Ruslan about your party and—”

Nika gasped, smiling widely. “Is he going to come? Dad said
he couldn’t get in contact with him.”

“Darling,” Vasily interjected quickly, coming around the
island to stand before them, his eyes gone cold as he stared at Kaz, even as he
addressed her. “Ruslan is very busy. I’ve told you this, no?”

“I’m sure he could make it,” Kaz said, making sure to keep
the smile on his face. “After all, nothing’s more important than family,
right?”

Vasily wouldn’t deny that, not in front of the girls, and
though he was probably boiling with anger, it was his turn to bite his tongue.

“So how about this,” Kaz said giving each of them a
squeeze. “You give me a time and a place and I’ll make sure he’s there, even if
I have to escort him here myself.”

“You’re the best, Kaz,” Dina said as she and her sister
started out of the kitchen, probably in search of Irina. “And we’ll text you
the name of the store.”

“Do it now so you won’t forget.”

She yelled her affirmation as they disappeared around the
same corner Irina had taken earlier, leaving Kaz standing with a newly pissed
off father.

Would it ever be any other way?

“You pull that kind of stunt again,” Vasily muttered. “I
won’t be as forgiving.”

“Duly noted. We done here? I’ve got things to take care
of.” He had fuck-all to take care of, but he was more than ready to get away
from Vasily. If they spent too much time together, tempers were bound to flare.

Dismissing him with a wave of his hand, Vasily said, “Get
out of my sight.”

Kaz was almost to the mouth of the kitchen when Vasily
called out to him once more, making him pause and look back.

“Stay away from the Gallucci girl. I mean it.”

Offering him a salute and nothing more, Kaz went in search
of his mother to say goodbye, knowing that despite his silent agreeance, he
couldn’t make that guarantee.

V
iolet kept her head
bent down and her hands joined with her friends on both sides. Her father, at
the head of the table like always, finished saying grace with his usual solemn
thanks and little else. Violet had always thought that when it came to their
family, religion was more for show than having actual faith in a higher power
that protected them.

After all, her family wasn’t exactly what she would call
good people.

Well-dressed, sure. Nicely cultured and polite, absolutely.
Rich, yes.

Sin was still sin, underneath it all.

“The opening collection for your mother’s designs is next
week,” Nicole said to Violet’s left.

Violet reached across the table for a bowl of mixed
vegetables to add onto her plate. She didn’t respond to Nicole because she
hadn’t asked her a question, but instead, she had stated the obvious.

“We decided on what we’re wearing,” Amelia put in.

Nodding, Violet continued filling her plate. Scrapes of
utensils echoed in the dining room, along with murmurs from several voices. It
was common for her father to have large dinners, and to open his doors to his
closest men and their families. Most times, these dinners happened last minute,
and Violet would receive a simple text, telling her a time to show up.

Today had been the exception.

Her father sent a car.

Clearly, Alberto was still a little pissed off.

Her stunt, nearly two weeks before, with the club in Coney
Island was not being overlooked.

Each time she had tried to sit down and talk to him since
it happened, he hadn’t seemed to have a word to say back to her.

Actually, he mostly ignored her.

“Okay, what gives?” Nicole asked.

Violet’s fork, filled with a cut of prime steak, froze
midway to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

Amelia sighed to Violet’s right. “You’ve been quiet since
we got here. You can’t be that pissed off at us, Violet. We didn’t do anything
that you didn’t do.”

Violet was still confused as hell. “Again, what?”

“Telling our dads what happened,” Nicole supplied.

Ah.

Violet shrugged. “I’m not angry.”

“Then why aren’t you talking?” Amelia asked.

“Because I don’t care about my mother’s reveal for her
upcoming collection or what anyone wears to it,” Violet said.

Yeah, maybe she was a little pissed at her friends, if she
thought about it. She understood her father when he explained that she was the
one responsible for her friends when they went out because of who she was, but
her friends knew better.

And she didn’t feel like pretending that they were
innocent.

“Wow,” Nicole muttered.

Violet frowned, feeling just a little bit guilty. Maybe the
girls hadn’t done anything that she wouldn’t have done if put in their
position. And they’d been her friends—since forever.

“There’s a shop on Sixteenth Street,” Violet said, deciding
she didn’t want to play the bitchy game with the girls. “Ma mentioned it.
Anything she says is good has to be gold, right? Maybe I’ll head over there and
check it out, see what I can find.”

The thought of sitting through another one of her mother’s
collection reveals was almost revolting, but Violet didn’t have much of a
choice. Her friends weren’t the first to bring it up.

Alberto was.

And since Violet needed to get back in her father’s good
graces, she would do whatever he wanted. Including spending a day at a place
she hated, doing something that bored the shit out of her.

“Want us to come?” Nicole asked.

Even Amelia looked happy at the prospect.

Violet, on the other hand, figured she could probably
handle picking out a dress on her own. “Next time? I have a busy week with
school, and I’m just going to fit it in sometime in between that.”

“If you’re sure,” Amelia said.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Thankfully, her friends dropped the topic. Violet’s week
was actually panning out to be pretty slow. She had some catch-up work to do
for the classes she was failing, but that was it. If she could at least get her
grade point average just beyond the failing mark, her father wouldn’t have such
a fit.

That’s all she wanted to focus on right now.

Keeping her father happy.

“Of course you wait until the last minute to find a gift.”

Kaz didn’t bother to dignify that remark with a comment,
knowing that his brother would only give him shit, no matter what he said. “I
had shit to do.”

He didn’t bother to mention he knew fuck-all about women’s
clothing. Sure, he could appreciate a woman in a figure-hugging dress—more so,
if he were the one to take it off her—but actively going in search for women’s
apparel, especially since it was for his younger sisters … well, he was a bit
over his head.

He’d been up early that morning, handling business down at
the docks, making sure shipments were coming in on time and the right people
were compensated for their time. Afterward, he’d made his way out of Little
Odessa into the city, heading toward the boutique his sisters favored. He
called Ruslan along the way to make sure he knew that after he finished there,
he would be on his way to pick him up.

Last week, he had called, letting him know that he’d talked
to Vasily, and that he was welcome to attend the party. Kaz hadn’t bothered to
mention the way he had went about it. Then, Ruslan had seemed to accept him at
his word, but now that it was the day of, he had felt the need to call and
check in.

“He might have agreed,” Ruslan said over the line, “but
he’s never been one to hold back how he feels.”

Kaz was silent for a moment, concentrating on the traffic
in front of him. The street was packed tight with cars, making it hard to find
a parking spot, and it was only worse for Kaz because his car drew more
attention and made people stop and stare. Eventually, after circling around, he
found a spot a couple blocks up. Swinging in smoothly, he cut the engine and
pulled on a pair of sunglasses before climbing out, and heading down the
street.

“Don’t worry about Vasily,” Kaz said. “He won’t make a
scene, not in front of the twins.”

If there was one thing to be said about Vasily, he cared
about his image. While in the privacy of his own home, he was prone to violent
outbursts and making sure his thoughts were clear in blatant, brutal honesty,
but he was always quite careful when there were others around. At the twins’
party, friends from their school, along with a number of their own associates
would be in attendance. Vasily had always presented the idea that they were the
perfect family. He wasn’t going to fuck that up.

No matter if Ruslan showed ...

Even in a city as densely packed as Brooklyn, where
celebrities, tourists, and the common person all mingled, Kaz stood out. It
might have been his height—six feet, three inches—or the way he presented
himself, but people tended to give him a wide berth as he walked, stepping out
of his path before he’d even had the chance to get close.

Worked for him.

“Maybe so, but do you remember the last time we were in the
same room together?” Ruslan asked.

How could Kaz forget?

There was always a tension when the two Markovic boys were
in the presence of their father, if for different reasons. While Vasily would
act annoyed by Kaz’s antics, he completely ignored Ruslan, going so far as
shunning him when he dared speak to the man. Ruslan never voiced his feelings
on the matter, not to anyone, and certainly not to Vasily, but Kaz knew his
brother.

“You trust me, no?” Kaz tried another tactic, wanting to
calm his brother’s doubts. “Everything will be fine. And before I forget, what
happened with the girl? The one you took home?”

Kaz had already told him about the Gallucci girl, though he
did refrain from telling him about the conversation they had in the car—that
felt private in a way. He
had
mentioned Vasily’s anger about it, and the
ensuing warning he’d received later.

“Was no problem,” Ruslan responded, probably with a wave of
his hand as that was what he usually did. “Had to practically carry the broad
inside, but she was fine when I left her.”

About what he’d expected.

The boutique at the end of the corner,
La Fleur
as
was the name written in gilded ink on the door, was charming in its simplicity.
Fresh tulips, even in this weather, rested in a metal container hanging on
either side of the entryway. With a sharp twist of his hand, he had the door
open and was stepping inside as a gust of wind blew in behind him.

All eyes turned in his direction, a few even gawking in
open admiration. He took a moment, clocking in every person inside the
place—mostly women, though there was a man in the corner looking terribly bored
with one hand on a massive stroller in front of him—before he removed his
sunglasses.

He hardly spared anyone a glance as he headed toward the
back wall where dresses hung in an assortment of colors. While he wasn’t quite
sure what he was getting just yet, he knew at the very least that he had to
pick two very different items. Though Nika and Dina were twins and had a habit
of finishing each other’s sentences, their styles were polar opposites.

“What the fuck were they doing on our side anyway?” Ruslan
asked with an edge to his voice. None of the Markovics were very trusting of
any Gallucci. “They know the rules.”

Kaz had wanted to believe that it was done on purpose, a
blatant display of disrespect, but if Alberto had wanted to send that kind of
message, he would have sent one of his soldiers, not the daughter he loved more
than anything. And after the short time he’d spent in Violet’s presence, Kaz
doubted it had been anything more than happenstance.

“Sonder’s fairly new, not many know that it’s yours.”

“And you believe that?” Derisiveness had crept into
Ruslan’s tone.

What choice did he have? “Doesn’t matter. It won’t happen
again. I’m sure of that.”

Kaz had only been browsing for a short time, shaking his
head at some of the choices, knowing that they would be too revealing for two
almost-sixteen-year-old girls, when the door was opened again. He couldn’t say
what made him turn to look—simple curiosity or just a need to be
precautious—but when he did and caught sight of Violet hurrying in, pushing
curling blonde strands back out of her face, he was almost glad he did.

What were the odds?

Once could be considered a coincidence, but twice? In a
city this size? It was almost like the universe was laughing at him.

She didn’t notice him immediately, and unlike him, she
seemed to be on a mission, heading for another rack of dresses some distance
away. Unlike the last time he’d seen her when she was slightly drunk and
teetering on too high heels, today she was perfectly put together.

As the daughter of a Gallucci should be.

He was surprised, expecting to see a guard of some sort
come in behind her—or at the very least, be able to see one through the windows
waiting for her outside—but there was no one. She was alone.