Where the Wind Whispers (Seasons of Betrayal Book 3)

by Bethany-Kris

  Violet didn’t know because she couldn’t get him to talk lately.

  Not real conversation beyond their child or her day.

  If they did talk beyond those topics, it ended badly.

  She knew he was stressed out and that he was barely keeping control of the situation, but she didn’t quite realize how much until now.

  And it killed her inside.

  It killed her to know her father was succeeding, and she didn’t know how or why. Alberto’s only promise to Violet was to hurt her, and while it might have seemed like he was hurting everyone else around her, her father knew her better than most—except for her husband.

  By hurting those around her, she was left watching and unable to do anything.

  She couldn’t protect, and she knew it.

  Not her husband, his family, or their child.

  Alberto was upending her life one little move at a time, and Violet could do nothing but stand on the sidelines, broken-hearted and useless.

  She knew it was only a matter of time before Alberto went straight for her throat—or rather, her heart and soul. He’d promised to take one or the other, hell, maybe even both.

  For now, though, he was just playing with her by showing her just how easy it would be to ruin her life.

  She hated him for it.

  It was as if her heart suddenly dropped from her chest and shattered into a thousand little shards all over the tiled floor.

  Violet was still moving forward, closer to Kaz. Her fingers worked at the one button at the collar of her dress before she was pulling it over her head and letting it drop to the floor. Left in only her bra and panties, she reached for the handle on the sliding glass door, ready to open it up and be with Kaz.

  There had never been another place where she wanted to be more than with him.

  Always.

  It was the entire reason why they were in this very situation now.

  Kaz still hadn’t seen or heard her, and the second Violet opened the shower door, she slipped into the hot water, hissing but managing to ignore the blaze that bloomed over her skin from the level of heat. Her arms circled her husband’s middle tightly, and unsurprisingly, Kaz didn’t even tense at her touch or arrival.

  It was as though he knew she was coming in whether he fucking liked it or not.

  Still, he kept shouting, letting all his hate and anger and stress go.

  Violet kept holding him, even when he turned around, and she was hugging his back. Even when his fists struck out one after the other, snapping hard into the tiled wall with sickening cracks, and then again, until his knuckles split and bled.

  Red rivulets trailed down his fingers and wrists, dripping to the shower floor and then they too washed down the drain.

  “I just need to think,” he mumbled, his head resting against the tile. “I need to breathe.”

  “It’s all right, Kaz.”

  He shook his head, frustration thickening his tone. “It isn’t. I don’t fucking know what I’m doing anymore, Violet. I’m fucking up. All the time.”

  He wasn’t.

  He might have thought that he was, but she didn’t think so.

  They were still alive.

  That counted for something.

  “I love you,” she whispered against his back. “I’m here, okay? Whatever you want or need, I’m here, Kaz. I’m sorry.”

  “Think, breathe,” he repeated gruffly.

  That was what he wanted.

  She got what he was saying well enough.

  “Don’t I do that for you?” she asked.

  “Of course, but right now, I’m not—” Kaz’s words cut off, and he blew out a hard breath.

  She understood without him finishing his explanation. His body was so tense that even her hands running over the ridges of his abdominal muscles had him shaking and jumping. His muscles flexed hard under her light touches, like he wanted to get out of her hands and stay there at the same time.

  Whenever she needed him to listen or to hear her, all she had to do was touch him, and all of his attention would be on her in an instant.

  It was their strange connection—always had been.

  They always communicated far better in bed, or even just when they were alone or touching. It didn’t matter, but it was true.

  Strange, but true.

  But this was not the same because she knew he was so angry, and he was always so careful to never give more than she could take when they were together, even if their fucking or loving was its own sort of rough.

  He didn’t want to take from her, she thought, because he didn’t know what she could take.

  Violet knew.

  She wanted to let him think—let him breathe.

  Or if he needed, he could feel nothing for a while.

  “Kaz,” she said against his back, soothing and calm, “let me help you.”

  He shook his head again, but his refusal quickly melted into a low, thick groan when Violet’s hand slid down from his stomach and found his cock. Already semi-hard, she only had to stroke him once, twice, then three times in a tight grip. She felt his length pulse under her hand, and she knew it wouldn’t take much more to get him where he would react.

  “Violet,” Kaz started to say.

  Her teeth found a muscle in his back and bit down hard enough to quiet him and likely hurt.

  Kaz hissed, but he didn’t move away.

  Her free hand dragged down his stomach and over his hip, her nails scoring into his skin and tattoos with just enough force to make him feel.

  “Let me help,” she repeated.

  Kaz let out a shaky breath. “I feel like I want to fucking kill something, Violet. And this is what you’re doing? You’re playing with fire.”

  She could handle him.

  Whatever he threw at her, she’d take it and fucking smile.

  She knew why he was hesitant, of course. This was the first time they had been able to be together since the baby was born—life was too busy, her two-week wait had passed quickly, and neither of them had even noticed it going by.

  Between the things her father was doing, and then Ruslan being attacked, plus Kaz being gone almost more than he was home … and when he was home, he was not himself.

  Fucking was the very last thing on his mind and even hers. And maybe that was part of the problem because there was no talking, no quiet time, and certainly no them.

  They were important.

  So yeah, she understood why he’d be hesitant.

  But none of that mattered.

  “How about you fuck me instead, huh?” Violet kissed the back of his shoulder blade. “Use me a bit, focus on that, fucking me like you do, and start new tomorrow. You can do that, can’t you?”

  Kaz didn’t reply, and Violet knew she’d have to push him a little further.

  Her fingernails dug into his lower back deep enough to leave crescent marks, and she squeezed his erection hard enough to make his breath catch. “You treated me like a piece of shit—the least you could do is fuck me and make me feel like it, too, Kaz.”

  Violet lost all of her breath for a second as she was suddenly spun around, her back hitting the tiled wall with enough force to make her spine protest. Her husband’s hand found her throat, his thumb digging into to the soft flesh with a bit more force than the rest of his fingers.

  When she swallowed, she felt his thumb sweep against her skin.

  Kaz met her gaze, dark and sneering. “That’s what you want to use on me, sweetheart?”

  She knew she probably looked like quite a sight to him drenched in water and in nothing but her lace bra and panties, but she didn’t care.

  As long as he focused on her.

  The more he did, the less angry he would be.

  He could work it out with her.

  She didn’t care.

  “Come on,” she urged, the tips of her fingers dancing across the length of his erection.

  Kaz held her firmly to the wall. “Stop.”

  �
��Do you want me on my knees so you can fuck my mouth and then you don’t have to bother with making sure I get anything?”

  His jaw clenched, eyes flashing with an unspoken warning.

  Violet pressed on. “Don’t you want to just fucking feel for a while?”

  His fingers tightened on her throat, his other hand came to lay flat on her stomach. She watched him watching her for those few seconds, knowing what he would choose and being silently happy for it.

  She needed him back.

  “I’m letting you use me—do it,” she said. “Or can’t you?”

  That did the trick.

  Kaz’s sneer was replaced by a flash of his earlier anger a second before he shoved her roughly to her knees. The smack of the hot tile against her bone was enough to make her wince, but she couldn’t even think about the pain for long because his hand was tangled in her hair and tugging firmly. Violet opened her mouth the second the tip of his hard cock touched her lips.

  There was no question there, just him demanding silently.

  And once her mouth was open, he was fucking relentless, shoving his cock in until her throat muscles constricted and she thought she might gag. But his hand only tightened around her throat, keeping her still and forcing her muscles to relax as he pulled away, and then his hips flexed forward even harder.

  Violet let her lips tighten around his length, and she could taste him on her tongue—the saltiness of his pre-cum and the silkiness of his shaft. The pulse of his heartbeat throbbed in the vein on the underside of his cock, beating hard against her tongue as she flattened it along his length with every thrust.

  “Fuck,” Kaz growled, his gaze narrowed and his hand shaking. “Was this what you fucking wanted from me, Violet? You wanted it like this, yes?”

  Her scalp stung from the force he was using to keep her in place. His pace was brutal; he barely gave her time to breathe, and it felt like he went a little deeper with each thrust.

  And even with that bite of pain, she still found herself enjoying it all.

  Especially the way he looked above her, on his own edge of control, shaking, gritted teeth, and clenched muscles.

  She couldn’t help the moan that bubbled its way out of her chest and spilled from her lips, reverberating against his cock as he fucked her mouth.

  Harder, she wanted to tell him.

  She didn’t care if he made it hurt—as long as it felt good to him.

  Violet let her fingernails dig into his thighs, giving back just enough of that same sting and ache to him. It didn’t faze Kaz in the slightest; he just fucking laughed at her like he wanted more because it felt good.

  So she did it again, harder the second time.

  It was only when she felt that telltale tremor in his thighs did he pull back, his cock dragging against her teeth as he came free of her mouth.

  “Get the fuck up,” he demanded, his hand tugging on her hair to get her to her feet.

  Violet managed not to slip on the tile but barely.

  And when she did get to her feet, he was shoving her around, forcing her back to his and then pushing her up on the small ledge in the shower.

  Anticipation and the slightest bit of hesitation filled Violet.

  He’d had that ledge put in for a reason. With their height difference, if he wanted to fuck her from behind while they were standing up, then she needed to be on something that gave her a few inches.

  That ledge was it.

  The ledge was a foot wide and about six inches high. It went around the whole shower like a step.

  She barely got the chance to steady herself on the ledge before his hand was at the back of her throat, squeezing tight and pushing her head against the tile wall. She only had the chance to peek over her shoulder before he was pushing her face back against the wall, and a sting radiated over her thighs and between her legs. He’d ripped the lace panties right off, and all she could do was sigh. Violet’s hands splayed out on the cold, wet wall only a breath before Kaz’s cock was pressing between her thighs and pushing inside her pussy.

  He didn’t give her any time to breathe—no chance to accommodate him or to make sure her body was ready for him. He just fucking pushed in, pulled out, and then slammed his hips into her ass hard enough to make her whimper.

  “Jesus,” Violet mumbled.

  “You wanted it, krasivaya.”

  She did.

  “Give it to me—make it fucking good.”

  She was a little angry with him.

  Pissed that he’d let himself get so entirely out of control that this was where they were left. Fucking against the shower wall because he was so angry that he didn’t even want her to look at him and she just needed to feel something from him for one goddamn second.

  And she could feel everything.

  He pulled her hair, making her whine.

  His hand cracked down against her ass, making the pain bloom into something beautiful and raw.

  She let her fingernails drag down his arms, leaving reddened marks behind as his teeth buried into her shoulder.

  Fucking asshole, she told him.

  Fucking take it, he said right back.

  Violet’s muscles protested, even as she felt the telltale tremors of her orgasm beating through her bloodstream. Her throat was raw from crying out, and she was pretty fucking sure she’d broken a nail or two on Kaz and the damn wall.

  But she still couldn’t find it in herself to care.

  Every drag of his cock against her walls brought her closer—every harsh word in her ear made her ask for more, harder … anything.

  And he gave it all.

  It was only when she was spent against the wall, the bliss of an orgasm still racing through her body, did she feel him finally let go.

  His come painted her back, leaving warm streaks against her skin.

  But she heard him, through her own haziness and the water still beating down on them.

  “Fuck, I love you, Violet.”

  And that, she knew, was why they’d be just fine.

  He loved her too much to fail.

  “I’ve never liked you.”

  Those weren’t the first words Kaz had ever expected to say to his mother-in-law, but as he stared at the face of a woman who hated his guts, they felt appropriate. She had finally regained consciousness some time along the ride, and thankfully, the gag was still in her mouth because she’d immediately started shouting the second she realized that he sat across from her.

  “Violet told me all about you,” he said sitting back in his seat, gazing out the window. “I never understood why a mother would treat their daughter the way you treated Violet. What excuse could you have possibly used to rationalize the jealousy you feel for your daughter?”

  Whatever she said was muffled behind the gag, but Kaz could take one look at her face and knew what she couldn’t say. But even if he couldn’t read her, he knew the real reason.

  The one she was probably too ashamed to say.

  Kaz knew women like her—had even slept with a few—the kind who based their worth on the approval of a man. She was jealous of her daughter simply because she thought Alberto loved Violet more.

  That would almost be understandable coming from Carmine—even Kaz had been privy to the way Alberto had treated his only son. But Andrea? She was Violet’s fucking mother—she had no excuse.

  “Don’t worry, though,” Kaz said as he patted her head. “We’ll have an answer soon enough.”

  Nine minutes later, they arrived at Kaz’s favorite place—the remote warehouse he liked to conduct business in. Even with both hands, he couldn’t count the number of Italians he had brought to this place and strung up.

  Climbing out of the back of the van, Kaz rolled his shoulder, stretching his arms as he walked to the doors. Before he even made it halfway across the lot, he heard the voice of the other guest of honor.

  But even knowing Carmine was in there wasn’t enough to bring a smile to Kaz’s face.

  He was dead insid
e.

  The room fell silent as Kaz entered, and even Carmine stopped struggling long enough to glare at him a moment before his gaze cut to who they were dragging in behind him.

  Colorful curses spat out of his mouth as he threatened Kaz in both Italian and English as his struggled renewed, scoring his skin with the force of his movement.

  Kaz came to stand just before him, watching his mouth moving, even seeing the rage reflected in the man’s eyes, but he remained detached from it all. Like it was happening, but his mind refused to process what he was doing.

  Only once they had Andrea tied up next to her son did Kaz finally deign to speak. “We all know why we’re here, yes?” To make sure he got an answer, he ripped the rag from Andrea’s mouth.

  The second she could speak, Andrea did just that. “Wait until my husband gets—”

  Kaz slapped her, the sound of his palm hitting her face echoing in the cavernous space. Grabbing her face, he turned her back around so that she was facing him. “I’m not in the mood for threats. Answer my question or keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  Though she jerked away from him, stumbling on the tips of her toes, she didn’t speak again.

  “Weeks ago, your husband, and your father,” he said with a nod to Carmine, “wanted me to choose between the people I love—I thought it only fair I return the favor.”

  Ijor walked over to him, handing him the iPad Kaz requested he bring. A few taps and swipes of his finger and he was on the screen he needed.

  “But I’m not a bad man. I’ll even offer you something he didn’t offer my family.” His lips curled of their own volition, and in the reflection of the tablet he carried, he saw what had Carmine trying to take a step back.

  Mania.

  “Who wants to play a game? It’s simple, you understand. Who do you think Alberto Gallucci loves the most between you two? Who would he want to save?”

  Carmine was the first to speak. “He would never choose.”

  “Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Kaz asked.

  He had no answer that time.

  “Let’s call and see, yes?”

  Glancing at the time, he made the call. It rang three times, and then the picture showed up. Alberto appeared in the center of the video looking confused a moment before he smiled, as though pleased to see Kaz.