Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(67)

Vasily had yet to call, nor did he answer the number he had called from before, but that did lead a little more credence to what Rus was trying to tell him. His father knew enough about keeping his hands clean, so if he were really planning to kill her, the phone would be turned off.

But at the moment, Kaz didn’t care for a reason.

He didn’t want there to be ifs and whens, he wanted an answer right f*cking then, and if no one spoke quickly enough, he would get the answers himself.

Rus was driving, looking over every so often. Even his lips were moving, probably words of encouragement—or at least ones meant to calm him—but Kaz couldn’t hear anything, even when he looked and could see him speaking.

It was as if everything had gone dark around him.

He had lost his sun.

But he would get her back if it was the last f*cking thing he did.

And it was for her that he would level the f*cking city, starting with an impromptu meeting with his new father-in-law.

“... and don’t do anything f*cking stupid, Kaz,” Rus said, his voice filtering back in as they arrived at a restaurant in a part of the city where money bought silence and most people turned the other eye.

It wasn’t a restaurant he often frequented—mainly because the Albanian syndicate that called this place home made it quite clear they weren’t willing to do business with outsiders. But it was, however, one of Alfie’s favorite meeting places.

“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” Kaz said as he shoved the door open and climbed out, his finger wrapped around the trigger of a pump action shotgun. “Nothing f*cking stupid at all.”

“Remember, you kill one of the Albanians, you earn a blood debt—and you know how they are about that shit.”

Kaz did know. He just didn’t care.

His men were already waiting for him, all ready for what he would do next. Shotgun resting on his shoulder, the doors were opened for Kaz as he walked in the narrow shop, all eyes turning to him.

No one moved, nor did they speak as Kaz and the others came in—they had already been warned. A man standing near the back staircase nodded his head in its direction, a silent message that the men he was here for were upstairs.

“I’m not sure how that would be profitable for me, Mr. Shelby.”

Kaz could hear the muffled voice as he cleared the landing, heading for the office at the end of the hall. A few of Alberto’s men were standing outside the door. The moment they saw Kaz coming, they were reaching for their guns, but they saw very quickly that they were outnumbered.

“I care f*ck all whether it’s profitable for you, mate. It’s the better business deal.”

Alberto didn’t get a chance to respond to Alfie’s words, not when Kaz reared back and sent his foot flying against the door. The wood splintered as it shot open, slamming back against the wall and startling the three men seated—all except Alfie. He merely sat back.

Pointing his gun at Alberto, Kaz’s aim didn’t falter. “Get up.”

Alberto grew red in the face, his anger apparent as he swung his gaze around to Alfie. But if he thought a glare was enough to move the Brit, he was mistaken. “Bad luck, mate.”

“This isn’t—”

Shifting his aim just slightly, Kaz pulled the trigger, firing a round into the potted plant just behind Alberto. The vase exploded, sending bits of pottery and dirt flying everywhere. “The next one is in your knee, old man. Move.”

This time, Alberto stood, though he kept his hands at his sides as opposed to raised high like his son’s were in the seat next to him. Appearances, Kaz thought. Even if he did feel fear, he was man enough not to show it.

Carmine, on the other hand …

Kaz was walking after Alberto when Carmine called out, “You touch my f*cking—” but his words were cut off when Rus slammed the butt of his own rifle into the man’s face.

Once he was outside the office, Kaz’s men stripped him of everything besides his shirt and pants, leaving the rest on the floor behind them. With someone on either side of him, Alberto was unable to do anything but follow their direction

Rus was behind them, and once they transferred into the van, he drove them away from the restaurant and toward a nearby drop spot. Once they were in place and Alberto was secure enough that he couldn’t move, Kaz placed his gun on the table and lit a cigarette.

Alberto glared, his lips curled as he regarded him with thinly veiled disgust. “Just a boy playing a man.”

Taking another drag of his cigarette, he grabbed one of the folding chairs against the wall, dragging it back to set up in front of Alberto. Blowing the smoke out as he sat, Kaz asked the only question on his mind.

“Who the f*ck do you think I am?”

“You—”

Kaz shook his head with a frown. “You forgot a key lesson when you decided to become my father’s suka, Gallucci. I’m a Markovic, and we don’t lose. Now, you either tell me where the f*ck Vasily is holding my wife, or I’ll show you what Gavrill would have done to you if he were here.”

“You lack respect for authority, Kazimir. Had you been my boy, I would have killed you long before you caused me this much trouble.”

Looking at one of the men in the room, Kaz pointed at Alberto. “Has he heard a f*cking word I’m saying?” Then back to Alberto. “I don’t think you understand the tangled web you’ve stepped in, Gallucci. Or have you forgotten what Vasily was willing to do to his own brother?”