Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(34)

“New York.”

Violet liked Konstantin.

He was honest.

Even if the truth scared the f*ck out of her.

“Why?” she asked.

Konstantin smiled lightly. “Many reasons.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

His amusement fled instantly as he repeated, “Many reasons.”

“You could give me one.”

“My father would never approve, and he’s one man I try not to irritate.”

Violet understood that better than Konstantin could possibly know. “So you’re stuck babysitting me while they’re having all the fun, huh?”

Konstantin’s serious expression cracked as he started laughing.

“Something like that, Violet.”





Violet was pretty damn sure her eyes couldn’t stretch any wider than they currently were as she stared at the wall of money across from her.

She knew wealth. Of course, she did.

However, she hadn’t seen a wall of money before.

“Close your mouth,” Konstantin said as he strolled past her, entirely unaffected by her gawking.

“How much is there?”

“A few hundred thousand, give or take.”

Nope.

Violet’s eyes could get wider.

“Seems like a lot more,” she said more to herself than Konstantin.

“Small bills,” Konstantin replied by way of explanation. “You’re not here to stare at the wall, Violet. Come on.”

Still staring at the cash, Violet followed behind Konstantin, only taking her gaze off the wall of cellophane-wrapped bricks of money when he slammed the office door. She couldn’t see it, then.

“Take a seat,” Konstantin said. “I won’t be long.”

Violet took in the office space, which was much larger than she had first realized. Konstantin made his way over to his desk, spinning the leather chair around and falling into it as he opened a drawer at the same time. She didn’t find a seat like he had told her to; instead, she milled about the edge of the office, taking in the artwork on the wall and the books on the shelves.

Konstantin seemed far too interested in whatever he was looking through to notice Violet’s snooping.

That or he didn’t care.

She suspected it was the latter, considering the man had eyes in the back of his f*cking head. She’d given him the finger behind his back earlier when he’d made one of his smart-ass comments, and somehow, the bastard knew.

“Are you pissed?” Konstantin suddenly asked.

Violet swung around to stare at him. “For what?”

“I don’t know … Kaz going off without a word? Seems a good reason.”

“Am I supposed to be?”

Violet wasn’t particularly happy—a goodbye or an explanation would have been nice—but she had to trust that Kaz knew what he was doing. She didn’t expect him to sit around and wait after her father’s men had come far too close just three days earlier.

“Better that you’re not,” Konstantin noted, “because I can’t stand pissy women.”

She glowered at him, less than impressed with his crudeness.

Still, Violet let it go, strolling over to a leather chair in the corner to sit down. “What are we doing here, anyway?”

“Making sure things are as they’re supposed to—” His words cut off as his gaze cut to the side, glancing at the flat-screen monitor on the desk. All emotion wiped from his features in a blink. He turned to stone, cold and hard. “Well, shit.”

Violet frowned.

That didn’t sound good.

“Something wrong?”

Konstantin’s gaze flicked to her and then back to the monitor. “No … Not at all.”

“Okay.”

“A word of advice, Violet.”

“For what?” she asked, confused as hell.

“Let him introduce himself first, and don’t speak unless he talks to you. Black is the best color. And pickles are God’s gift to man, much like women and vodka.”

Violet’s brow crumpled. “What?”

Her confusion didn’t last long, as a knock sounded on the office door a second before it was thrown open. The man who strolled in, lit cigar in hand, immediately reminded Violet of Kolya because of his large stature and wide shoulders. He was dressed in all black—from his shoes to his suit to even the cufflinks in the black dress shirt he wore.

Somehow, maybe it was the color of his eyes—a cold black—as his gaze fell on her in the corner and then passed over her just as quickly to look at Konstantin, or maybe it was the almost intimidating quality of his aura, but she knew …

This was the Boykov brothers’ father.

The man’s next words confirmed her suspicions.

“Son,” he greeted. “What did I tell you about bringing guests to the compound? Not to, yes?”

Konstantin’s eyes snapped to Violet but quickly went back to his father. “She’s harmless.”

“I’m sure.”

“Worry not, Vadim. She wouldn’t know where to begin even if I told her to go wild.”

“It isn’t hard to figure out, Konstantin,” Vadim replied coolly. “Anyone with two brain cells could figure it out if they stared at it all long enough.”