Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(31)

Nothing captured one’s attention quite like the sight of a man hanging from the ceiling by his ankles, but as Kaz entered the warehouse—Kolya had texted him an address nearly an hour ago—his gaze immediately went to the Italian from the car wreck as he swung like a pendulum.

Though a cloth was stuffed in his mouth, he screamed what sounded like a plea the moment his wild gaze locked on Kaz, but the words were lost beneath his gag.

“I think he’s trying to say something,” Konstantin said from his spot in a chair across the room, gesturing at the man with his cigarette.

“Then he can wait.”

“What’s the f*cking point if we can’t hear them speak?” Konstantin asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Then we’re torturing—at least torturing whatever the hell is left of him—just to do it.”

“That’s because you lack patience. Sure, you can get a man to tell you things before you start—but who f*cking knows how legit that information is. No, you get a little of the torture out of the way”—Kolya punctuated this by picking up a scalpel, and running the sharpened blade over the man’s stomach, red welling in its wake— “and he’ll tell you everything he knows.”

Ripping the man’s gag out, Kolya tossed the cloth on the table and took a step back, folding massive arms across his chest as he glared over at Kaz. “About f*cking time. I’m sure we would all like to be buried in *, yet here we are. Waiting on you.”

“Then learn not to yell at your wife.”

Kaz had expected Kolya to lash out, but the man merely shrugged, as if to say fair enough.

Turning his attention to the Italian, Kaz asked, “Who is he?”

“Vito, he said—or whatever the f*ck. By the time I got a name out of him, he was barely conscious.”

Shrugging out of his jacket, Kaz tossed the material on a chair as he crossed the distance to Vito, laying a hand on the man’s leg to keep him from swinging further.

“Here’s the thing, Vito,” Kaz said, “You can’t tell me anything I don’t already know. I know Alberto sent you here. I know why he did it. So what’s stopping me from giving you over to my friend here?”

Vito’s mouth opened as he attempted to speak, but blood spurted from his mouth as he coughed, trying to clear his airway.

“Take your time,” Konstantin called out from the other side of the room.

“T-There was a m-meeting between Vasily and the boss.”

That was something Kaz had already figured. “Go on.”

“He gave us y-your location.”

Still, not something he didn’t already know, but the man looked like he was about ready to pass out. Before he could, Kaz snatched the bottle of water from Kolya’s hand, splashing the man in the face.

“Pay attention.” Tapping his cheek a few times, Kaz forced his attention on him. “I already know that. Give me something I don’t.”

Kaz had assumed he would have more time, give him a chance to find dirt on Vasily another way—particularly through the men who worked for him. Some were loyal to a fault, but others didn’t blindly follow Vasily, especially since he had taken Gavrill’s seat.

He hadn’t accounted for how quickly the Italians would find them.

But this could work for him … depending on just how much Vito knew.

He could see it in the man’s eyes, that reluctance to spill secrets he had probably kept for years. But he also knew he was going to die, and holding someone’s confidence meant nothing once you were in the ground.

“They’ve met … before.”

Now, they were getting somewhere. “Continue.”

“Back when the war was at its peak … Word was the boss wanted to have a meeting with yours, but Gavrill ignored the invitation. Vasily answered it instead.”

That much Kaz could remember. Even with how crazy that time had been, he still recalled the cemetery with Violet at his side and how important Vasily had told him that meeting was.

“They made a deal,” Vito said in a rush. “Vasily wanted the boss’ chair. Alberto wanted the fighting to stop. They agreed that Vasily would set it up, and Alberto would do the rest. As long as we avoided each other in the future, there was no need for retaliation.”

Fucking hell. Vasily had done it, but what Kaz was learning now was that it wasn’t just ammunition to use against his father. This information was enough to get the man killed.

And it explained why he never wanted the truth to come out.

“Gavrill was walking with that wife of his, but she had gone into a shop. He never saw it coming.”

“You were there then, no?”

Vito, realizing too late just how much he had revealed, stumbled over his next words. But there was no point, not when Kaz had everything he needed to know now.

Before he could think of something useful to say, Kaz asked, “What was his name—the man who pulled the trigger?”

“I don’t—”

Digging his finger into one of the cuts in Vito’s side, he waited until the man’s screaming finally died off before he said, “I won’t repeat myself.”

“Christian.”

Kaz pulled his finger free, wanting clarification. “And he is the one who killed my uncle?”