Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(41)

Violet’s back stiffened at his statement, wondering what it meant.

“No, it’s fine,” he added after a quick second. “I will handle it. Do not bother the boss with it.”

Once Konstantin was off the phone and had discarded the device back into his pocket, he pushed up from the chair with a curious glint in his eye.

“What?” Violet asked.

“Seems we have business to do.”

She hugged her coffee cup a little closer to her chest. “But I don't want to do business.”

She just wanted to stay hidden away in the townhouse until Kaz came back. The last time she decided to go on a trip, bad shit happened.

“Well, too bad. I can’t leave you here alone, and someone else might not be as nice with the problem your father’s people left behind.”

Wait … what?

“You won’t explain that if I ask, will you?” she asked.

Konstantin grinned. “No, but don’t worry. You will see soon enough. Let’s go.”

All too soon, Violet sat in the passenger seat of Konstantin’s vehicle as unfamiliar streets passed her by in a blur of white snow and buildings. It really was a shame that she couldn’t enjoy Chicago more, but maybe someday …

“You will stay in the car, yes?”

Despite the fact he’d posed that statement as a question, it didn’t sound like Konstantin was actually offering Violet a choice in the matter.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching me,” she said, glancing back at him.

Konstantin never took his eyes off the road. “It is safe to say we only have one problem left in Chicago to take care of, which I am handling now. The only reason we know about this problem is because of one that managed to survive but we had a little fun with.”

Violet shivered—the only problems in Chicago had been her father’s men. She did not like the sound of what Konstantin was suggesting at all.

Better she didn’t ask.

She was learning that was the best way to get through the day where Bratva men were concerned. Don’t ask, and they wouldn’t tell. She didn’t mind turning her cheek.

“Almost there,” Konstantin said, more to himself it seemed.

Violet focused on the buildings passing them by and only really took note of where they were when it became more rural on the outskirts of the city. Konstantin began humming a tune and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel a second before he pulled off the road and into a small parking lot that belonged to what looked to be a hotel of sorts.

Not necessarily a shoddy one, but it wasn’t upscale, either.

“Stay in the car,” Konstantin repeated as he pulled in front of one of the rooms with a large, tarnished “7” displayed on the door.

Violet was sure she saw the curtain move on the window beside the door, but—

“Violet, did you hear me?”

“Yes, Konstantin. I’ll stay in the f*cking car.”

Konstantin laughed his way out of the vehicle, letting the driver’s door slam shut. Violet watched him walk up to the hotel room’s door, and she expected him to knock.

He didn’t.

Violet squeaked in surprised when Konstantin reared back and kicked the door just below the knob, and it swung open, exposing shadows and no one standing behind it. As quickly as he was there, Konstantin was gone, disappearing into the room.

Not even ten seconds later, he was back at the doorway with someone at his side.

Violet’s gaze widened as something heavy and hard welled in her gut.

Amelia.

Konstantin passed Violet a look, a single brow raising as he dragged a fighting, shouting Amelia toward the vehicle. Violet couldn’t help but turn in the seat to watch as Konstantin opened up the back door and shoved Amelia into the backseat as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll with limp limbs.

“You can’t just f*cking take—”

“Quiet,” Konstantin said calmly.

Too calm, even.

Violet’s gaze flicked back and forth between her former friend in the backseat and Konstantin’s stone-cold features as he pointed a finger at Amelia.

“Shut up, girl, right now,” he told her.

Maybe it was the deadly calm, uncaring way he spoke or maybe it was the blank blackness in his eyes, but Amelia shrunk back in the seat, silent.

Konstantin flashed a smile, but it still came off as cold and cruel. “Well done.”

He slammed the door on her.

The very second he did, Amelia lunged for the door, ready to escape maybe, but a beep sounded, and the doors locked. Violet’s former friend shrieked her despair, trying and failing to get the latch to open the door.

“Fucking *,” Amelia mumbled.

Violet wasn’t even entirely sure why, but her mouth worked before her brain could think it over properly. “He’s not that bad, actually. Just a little moody.”

As if Amelia was only just then realizing she wasn’t alone in the vehicle, her fiery, hateful gaze turned on Violet as she spun around in the backseat. “You …”

Violet caught sight of Konstantin rounding the car, coming toward the driver’s side. “What about me?”

“This is your fault; you and that f*cking Russian sc—”

“Watch it,” Violet snapped.

Unlike Konstantin, who was able to be cool and calm in the face of someone who thought he was worth less than the dirt under his shoe, Violet could not say the same.