by Bethany-Kris
The subtle edge to her voice made him smile. “Undoubtedly, but I suspect you have a far better fashion sense than the lot of them, considering who your mother is.”
At the reminder that he knew more about her than she probably knew about him, she took a step back, her gaze darting to the entrance. “I should go.”
She’d only taken a step before he was calling out to her. He should have let her leave, it would have been the right thing to do, but he wasn’t ready to walk away yet.
“My sisters. They turned sixteen today.” That information wouldn’t be hard to find out should she have asked anyone else, so he didn’t find it imperative to keep it a secret. “They asked for something from here, but as you can see, I’m ill-equipped to pick something out for them.”
“I’m not sixteen,” she returned with a lift of her brow.
“No,” Kaz said, his lips curling up in one corner. “You’re definitely not that, but you were once.”
Now it was his turn to drink her in. She wasn’t wearing a dress that conformed to her curves like that night, but she was wearing skinny jeans that molded to shapely legs, and a cream-colored blouse that dipped in the middle to reveal a tantalizing view of her breasts. Even though it was her, or maybe even because it was her, Kaz felt a stirring of lust.
“Fine. Have you anything to go on? Did they say what they wanted?”
“Lady’s choice.”
Violet chewed on her lip for a moment, like she was contemplating whether to go through with this. After all, she would be actively engaging with him as opposed to it being forced on her.
Ultimately, she agreed, nodding once, just the slightest tilt to her head, before she was moving quickly through the racks. Though, she did keep a sizable distance between them. After asking for their sizes—he’d had to check his phone for an answer—she was silent as she picked up an assortment of dresses, skirts, blouses, putting some back, eyeing others, and those she deemed worthy, she handed to him.
By the time she finished, they had gone through nearly every garment in the place and his arms were laden with items. Even Kaz, whose wardrobe was arguably large, was a bit surprised by how much she had chosen.
“This is a bit much, no?”
To that, she gave him a sparkling, if not sarcastic, smile and waved his words away. “A girl only turns sixteen once, right?”
While he took his items to the register, setting them on the counter and picking out a number of gift boxes that were complementary with any purchase, Kaz looked back to where Violet had disappeared to. She was still looking at the red dress from earlier, but now she was comparing it to another that wasn’t nearly as nice.
“Sir? We can have someone bring your purchases to your car, if you would like,” the sales associate offered politely, drawing his attention back to her.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
When it was all rang up and carefully placed in boxes, Kaz paid, gesturing for the man that was now carrying them to follow behind. Before leaving, however, he stopped at the last moment and went back over to Violet. And this time, she was all too aware of his presence as she turned before he even got close.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” she asked, almost like she was wary that his answer might be yes.
He gestured to the dresses she held. “The red one, I like it.”
Violet looked down, almost like she was surprised to find the dresses there, or maybe surprised that he had noticed in the first place. She sounded almost wistful as she said, “Yeah, I like it too.” Even as she said the words, however, she hung it back up. “But no one can look better than my mother at her own event.”
That might have been the stupidest shit he had ever heard, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Without thinking, he took a step closer, taking her hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, brushing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“You can’t help that though, can you?”
Her lips parted, her gaze shooting up to his own. It was there, if only for a moment, the naked desire she couldn’t quite hide. Maybe he was playing with fire, but for once, he didn’t care.
“Spasibo—thank you,” he said finally releasing her. “For everything.”
He left her there, going back out to his car, tipping the man as he carefully arranged the gifts in his passenger seat. Ultimately, they would have to be moved once he picked up Ruslan, but he didn’t think about that for the time being.
His thoughts were on Violet and the way her skin felt against his own.
Unlike Kaz who had an apartment right in the heart of Little Odessa, Ruslan liked his privacy, taking up residence in one of the row-style houses on the outskirts. Though it was older, he had made repairs—the roof, the fence surrounding the property, and a new paint job—and took meticulous care of it so that it didn’t look its age. Though their father would not step a foot inside—it wasn’t up to his standards—Ruslan loved the place.
Pulling up outside, Kaz parked alongside the curb, laying on the horn as soon as his foot hit the brake. Since his brother always insisted he call to announce his presence—as opposed to coming straight up to the door—Kaz elected to ignore that decision and do what he wanted, even as he respected Ruslan’s request.
It was the little things, Kaz thought as Ruslan swung open the door, flipping him off before disappearing back inside.
Five minutes later, he was back, dressed quite similarly to Kaz, though his suit was navy with a crisp, white shirt. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for the oldest Markovic, but Kaz could tell that he’d put in an extra effort with his appearance.
“You said an hour,” Ruslan commented as he folded his big body into the car. “And you couldn’t drive your Range Rover today?”
Though Kaz had customized the car, paying far more than any rational person would to make sure it would fit his impressive height, Ruslan still barely fit.
“What? I love this car.”
Though his eyes were shielded by a pair of sunglasses, Kaz could practically feel Ruslan’s eye roll as he looked out the window.
“Yeah, the whole world fucking knows it, too.”
“Someone’s in a surly mood … Didn’t get any last night?” Kaz was smiling, oblivious to the glare Ruslan was shooting in his direction. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how does that wor—”
Before Kaz could even get the question out, Ruslan slammed a meaty fist into his shoulder, making Kaz bark out a laugh, even as he quickly straightened the wheel when they nearly swerved into the next lane.
“Are you trying to kill us?” he shot in Ruslan’s direction, still fighting a smile.
“Just you.”
Kaz shrugged, unbothered. “At least you’re honest.”
“No, but seriously. Where the hell were you? You’re never late.”
The last thing he felt like doing was explaining to his brother who he had run into at the boutique—and more, that he had even talked to her—especially after having Vasily on his ass about it. Ruslan wouldn’t usually care who Kaz talked to, but if it was somebody like Violet Gallucci—especially because it was Violet Gallucci—he wouldn’t bite his tongue.
“Had to get the twins’ their gifts. Just took longer than I thought.” One thing Kaz wouldn’t do was lie—he didn’t believe in it, but he could omit parts.
“Yeah, right.” Ruslan might not have believed him, but he didn’t pry. “Tell me … What’s the likelihood that the day won’t fall to shit because of this party?”
Turning on Oceana drive, knowing they were only about ten minutes from the place they both rarely enjoyed going back to, Kaz shook his head. “We’re not even on the scale.”
Unlike the rest of the guests that were steered around to the back of the mansion from the driveway, Kaz and Ruslan went through the house instead, knowing that Irina would be in the kitchen. If they could put off seeing their father for as long as possible, they would.
There were decorations all around, balloons and glittery things t
hat made the space look more like a family lived there instead of a showroom. Sure enough, Irina was in the kitchen, overlooking the caterers as they plated food and put the finishing touches on a massive birthday cake with a candle depicting 16 resting at the top. She was just about to give instructions to a girl holding a platter of shrimp when she caught sight of her sons.
And more importantly, Ruslan.
Irina didn’t even bother to finish her request before she was crossing the floor and pulling Ruslan into a tight hug. Kaz didn’t mind that the attention wasn’t on him. After all, he’d seen her two weeks prior, and Ruslan … he couldn’t remember the last time Ruslan had seen their mother.
“I’m so happy you could make it.” Pulling back after a moment, she touched his face in motherly affection, looking him over for any changes since the last time she’d seen him. “You look thinner. Are you eating?”
Only Irina would be able to notice that Ruslan’s massive size was smaller.
“I’m fine, Mama.”
“What are you eating? You can’t just eat at that club of yours, syn.”
When she called him ‘son,’ Ruslan smiled, soft and fleeting. “It’s not so bad.”
“Nonsense. I’ll make you something before you go.”
“Where’s Vasily?” Kaz asked, butting into their conversation.
Irina frowned, her joy at seeing Ruslan deflating like a balloon. “Out back entertaining.”
Giving Ruslan a pointed look, Kaz said, “I’ll go and speak.”
At least then his brother would have more time with Irina.
Clapping Ruslan on the shoulder and kissing Irina’s cheek, Kaz headed out the back, scanning the crowd below from his position on the deck. He could spot the twins with ease as they were at the center of a group of girls, huddled together as they talked. Parents mingled, most with drinks in hand, and on the outskirts of it all was a number of Vasily’s men. They were careful to be present, but unseen.
It was what they were good at.
And off to the side, smoking a Cuban was Vasily, holding court amongst a group of men as though he were the king of them all. In his head, he probably was.
On his way down, Kaz ran into the one person he wasn’t expecting to see.
Older than him by a year, Vera was the sibling he was closest to since they were so close in age. She looked like a younger version of their mother, though she did have Vasily’s eyes. Most confused them for twins.
Unlike Kaz and Ruslan, who were deeply involved in the life, Vera wanted no part of it. And the day after she turned eighteen, she had moved out and put as much distance between her and Vasily as possible. The only time she came around was during holidays and birthdays. Otherwise, he went to her.
Vera might have looked annoyed as she came up the stairs—though this was just what she looked like—but she smiled when she noticed Kaz. “I’m surprised you didn’t forget about today, Kaz.”
He had … but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “How’s my favorite sister?”
“As well as to be expected, considering present company.”
While Kaz didn’t have the best of relationships with Vasily, Vera and Ruslan’s was worse—the second by his own actions, and the former because Vera just downright loathed the man. Sometimes Kaz thought he understood why, it wasn’t like they had the best of childhoods, but other times, Kaz didn’t think he knew the gravity of Vera’s hatred for their father.
“And your business?” he asked.
Vera had started an interior design business, and was quite successful. “Everything’s good. How are you? Mama says you might have gotten into trouble …”
While Irina wouldn’t ask, Vera would. “It was nothing.”
Though it was starting to seem like it was something …
“Be careful, Kaz,” she said, lowering her voice. “Don’t give him a reason.”
Kaz inclined his head, the only response he was willing to give to that. “Rus is inside,” he said instead. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
Vera knew exactly what Kaz was saying as they both looked over in Vasily’s direction, whose attention was on them. “Right. We’ll catch up later, Kaz.”
She was gone in a flurry of maroon, leaving Kaz to start across the yard toward his father. He didn’t immediately recognize a few of the men standing around Vasily, but his father didn’t waste a second in introducing him. Kaz nodded, the most he ever did when around people he didn’t know.
If he didn’t know them, he didn’t trust them.
That was how he’d stayed alive this long.
“You’re late,” Vasily said after he’d excused them, and they stepped off to the side. “You know better.”
“I had to buy birthday presents,” Kaz said by way of explanation.
Vasily was quiet for a moment. “And is that the only reason?”
Kaz knew what he was really asking—whether it was somehow Ruslan’s fault that they were tardy, and he was merely covering for his brother. It wouldn’t be the first time he had, and probably wouldn’t be the last, but on this particular instance, Ruslan wasn’t to blame.
“It’s a nice day,” Kaz said gesturing out with an arm around them, a smile lighting up his face in case any others were observing their conversation. “Let’s act like it, yes?”
While Vasily might not have liked Kaz’s words, judging from the scowl on his face, he wouldn’t call him on it. Not today. “Have you been doing what I asked, regarding that girl?”
How long had Kaz gone without any mention of Violet, but now it seemed like she was brought up every chance Vasily got. If he was meant to forget about her, pretend like she didn’t exist, that was hard to do when he was reminded of her often.
“Of course,” Kaz answered easily.
It wasn’t a lie, not really. He hadn’t expected to see her that morning, so he wasn’t seeking her out. That had to count for something.
Vasily looked skeptical, but ultimately accepted his words. Changing the subject, he said, “Don’t forget tomorrow.”
On the third Tuesday of every month, there was a meeting between Vasily, and the higher-ranking members of the Bratva, their tribute of sorts, where money changed hands and any concerns were addressed. If there was one thing Kaz wouldn’t forget, it was the meeting. Attendance was mandatory, and only once had he seen what happened when you were late—that man still had a limp.
“No worries. We’ll be there.”
It didn’t matter that Vasily and Ruslan were at odds. Ruslan was still expected to show.
“Rus! You made it!”
Kaz turned just in time to see Nika hurrying across the backyard, throwing herself at Ruslan as he stepped down to their level. Vera was right behind him, along with Irina, and a number of caterers that were bringing out the last of the food.
In a way, Ruslan had come out prepared with his own little army.
Vasily wouldn’t cause a scene, not with the number of people at the party, and especially not with Irina, the twins, and Vera in attendance—he saved his savagery for when they weren’t around.
Dina was right behind her sister, barreling into Ruslan as he caught them easily, his lips moving, though Kaz couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Vasily’s scowl grew worse as he looked over at his eldest son, and with fire in his eyes, he took a step in their direction, as though he meant to pull them apart if he had to.
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that,” Kaz said easily, not taking his eyes off his siblings.
“You can’t save him from me, Kazimir,” Vasily returned in a dark voice. “You shouldn’t try.”
Kaz nodded, his lips turning down at the corners. “Maybe so, but then who would save you from Vera?”
Vasily had chosen wisely in a wife. She was quiet, knew when not to ask questions, and kept her opinions of how he treated their children to himself—even the twins took after her in their quiet manner.
But Vera, on the other hand, she didn’t bend to Vasily’s whims. If
she thought he was wrong, and that was more often than not, she called him out on it, but only in regards to his parenting. When it came to the Bratva, she let him run it as he saw fit.
Unlike with Kaz, Vasily was careful to mind his words around Vera in regards to Ruslan. Maybe he was trying to mend the relationship with his eldest daughter, but even Kaz knew that he wouldn’t be able to fix something that wasn’t there.
“Give him today,” Kaz said from his position at his father’s side. “Tomorrow, you can hate him again.”
For the first time in what felt like ages, Kaz thought he saw his brother’s shoulders relax, like the weight of his burdens had finally been lifted.
... if only for a short while.
Violet kept her attention focused entirely on the textbook in her hands, and not her father sitting across the room behind his large desk. She knew he was watching her, he always had at least one eye on her.
Earlier in the day, her father had called with a simple request for her to come over and have lunch with him. He offered nothing more when he called, and made it clear his request was not up for debate. Violet dropped the lunch plans she had with Amelia and Nicole, and found a driver waiting outside of her Manhattan condo, ready to drive her across the city to Amityville.
After eating lunch with her father, Alberto invited Violet up to his office to sit and talk for a while. She ended up on the couch studying while her father scribbled on papers in a folder. Very little talking was being done at all.
It was unnerving.
“How has Gee been treating you?” Alberto asked.
Violet finally lifted her gaze from her reading, and found her father had dropped the pen he had been writing with. Gee was her driver—her new not-so-much best friend.
“Fine, Daddy.”
“He says you’ve been following the rules and only staying in the upper part of Brooklyn.”
Violet shrugged. “That’s what you wanted.”
“Only when he drives you, right?” Alberto pressed.
“Of course.”
She was not planning to defy her father again. Her lesson was well learned. Even driving anywhere now was impossible to do by herself, because Gee had been given the second set of keys to her car and was not permitted to hand them back to her until her father allowed it.
