Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(20)

“Which paper was it?”

“The same kind they make phonebooks with,” Konstantin explained.

Kaz laughed, amused at the seeming simplicity of the whole operation. “This can’t be it, man. You don’t just take two sheets of paper and stick them together. If that were the case, we both know there’d be a f*ck lot more people in this trade.”

“You’re right.” Konstantin waved at the floor and the metal tables where men stood working before he said, “This business is more than making fake money—it’s almost an art form. And it’s been around for more decades than most people know. It’s one of the oldest practices in the world. Our bills are nearly as good as the real thing.”

“Oh?”

“Damn near. We’ve got the threads, the strip, the watermarks, and the hologram. The only problem we have is the definition of the bills, but you can’t see that small issue unless you have it under a magnifying glass, and most cashiers don’t carry those. Putting it up to the light, seeing what they’ve been told, and marking the bill with the marker is enough.”

Kaz was thoroughly impressed. “How, though?”

“How what?”

“Do you get them that perfect—that unnoticeable, I suppose.”

Konstantin laughed deeply. “Like I said, it’s an art. And I’m not about to spill the secrets that make this trade as lucrative as it is. On a good month, which is f*cking almost every month for us, we’re making anywhere from eighty-nine to ninety-one cents on the dollar.”

Kaz whistled appreciatively, knowing that was a good number to be making on each counterfeit dollar. “Shit.”

“But that’s business for another day. Let’s go to my office.”

Konstantin’s office was located on the top floor in the west corner. Though it gave no outward appearance, about a foot of each wall on either side was bulletproof, as well as the door. It was a panic room, and should he ever have the need, a door at the back of the room concealed an elevator.

Few were as adamant about their security as Konstantin was.

“You’ve been here a week, no?” Konstantin asked as he circled his desk to take a seat. “What’s the word?”

“Nothing.”

Konstantin didn’t answer, just gave him a look.

“Yeah,” Kaz responded. “I know.”

Kaz wasn’t foolish enough to believe his father would never find him. He wasn’t Pakhan just because of lineage. So that Vasily had yet to contact him by now troubled him. His lack of contact only meant one of two things.

Either he knew exactly where Kaz was and was making preparations to send some of his guys to say hello …

Or he was stalling for Alberto Gallucci.

It wasn’t like the pair of them hadn’t been willing to make deals before … And from the way they could come together to set Kaz up, he wouldn’t put it past them to be working together now, each with their own incentive.

“Right. What are you going to do about it?”

He was going to have to force a reaction.

His plan could only work if he were able to make Vasily slip.

“I’ll make the arrangements tonight, that—” Kaz paused as the phone in his pocket vibrated, alerting him to a call.

The phone was new, a burner, whose number he had specifically given to Violet and only Violet—if Rus or Vera ever had need of him, they could have called Konstantin to relay a message.

Digging it out, he connected the call and placed the phone to his ear. “Vi—”

“Vasily called.”

Kaz tensed, hearing the fear in her voice, but he was more concerned with the situation at hand.

So, as he had thought, Vasily knew where he was—and who he was with—but he had chosen to make a phone call instead of making an appearance to deliver whatever the f*ck he had to say in person.

Alberto was definitely involved.

Kaz knew his father. Vasily loved grand theatrics when it came to delivering his warnings or punishing someone who crossed him. And while he might not have been able to do it in person, he could still have his fun with a phone call.

That phone call was probably meant for him, and knowing Vasily, he hadn’t just made a point to say he knew where they were. He had probably said much more.

“What did he say?”

“He said something about my father or … it was a lot and—”

“Violet,” Kaz cut her off, his voice a little sharper than he meant it to be, but he needed her to focus. “I need you to tell me what he said. Everything.”

“He hinted that my father would be coming to get me, and that, when he did, I needed to be worried about what would happen to you.”

Fucking Vasily.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Violet.”

“But—”

“Trust me. He would put a bullet in my head long before he ever gave Alberto the honor.” Kaz looked at Konstantin, who was paying rapt attention to their conversation and gave a nod, letting him know that this was what they’d been waiting for.

“And he threatened me—that if he had to, he would drag me back to my father himself.”

“Don’t—” Kaz had the sudden urge to put his fist through a f*cking wall, even as he was trying to remain calm. “That’s not going to happen, Violet. Believe that.”