Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(71)

Violet swallowed hard, clenching her hands into his jacket and holding him to her side. He wasn’t going f*cking anywhere if she had any say about it. Not after today.

“When?” she asked.

“It’s been in the works for a while,” he admitted.

Because he’d always known where they were going, she realized.

He’d never wanted anything different.

Violet’s lips split into a wide grin, despite the pain it caused in her eye. Kaz instantly took note of her flinch, his hand coming up to stroke her cheekbone just below the bruise she must have sported.

“This won’t happen again,” he promised.

Violet nodded but said nothing.

What could she say?

Whose fault had it been?

Not hers or his.

Not really.

“Can we go inside?” Violet asked.

Kaz’s concern melted away as he turned back to the mansion with a wave of his hand. “It’s all yours, krasivaya. Welcome home.”

Violet let him lead her into the house, noting the security features it took to actually get the front door open, and then she proceeded to spend the next hour and a half exploring the mostly furnished mansion.

And it was beautiful.

Perfect, even.

Violet wasn’t even surprised.

“Violet?”

She glanced up from the black marble countertop she’d been admiring as Kaz leaned in the kitchen entryway with two men standing behind him. Ruslan was one, and the other was someone she didn’t recognize at all.

But guessing by his rolled up sleeves and his lack of tattoos, Violet guessed the man wasn’t like Kaz or Ruslan at all.

“Yeah?”

Kaz nodded his head toward the unknown man. “He’s going to check you over, just to make sure everything is … fine. Yes?”

Violet’s gaze flicked between the softly smiling man and Kaz. “I am fine.”

“Indulge me.”

It didn’t seem like Kaz was going to give her a choice as he turned, leaving with Ruslan on his heel while the other man stayed behind.

The man took a step into the kitchen, a black bag in hand.

“I hear you had a … spill,” he said.

Violet raised a single brow. “Right into someone’s fist.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Funny, they’re never so blatant about what happened when I ask.”

“Not your first rodeo?”

“Not even my fiftieth,” he responded in kind.

Violet knew then that the man was likely a doctor on the Bratva’s payroll. Even her father had one or two to take care of things on the down low or late at night when no one wanted to make a trip to the ER.

“What’s your name?” Violet asked as the man put his bag on the island counter.

“You can call me Doc. Everyone else does.”

“I’d prefer a name.”

The man smiled. “Brian.”

“Brian, then,” she said. “I’m fine. As you can see.”

“Let me decide that,” Brian replied. “Sit up on the stool. I just want to check your vision and your memory. A few simple questions to make sure you’re not concussed. I’ll check your eye to be sure the bone isn’t cracked or bruised too badly. And unless there’s something else you want me to look at …”

He trailed off, offering nothing more.

Violet understood well enough without an explanation. “I wasn’t touched.”

“Good—up on the stool.”

Brian’s no-nonsense demeanor was the only reason Violet chose not to argue with the man. That and she figured if she let him do his business, he could reassure Kaz she was, in fact, fine, and he would worry less.

Sitting on the stool, Violet followed the doctor’s orders, watching his finger move from side to side and up and down. He asked her birthdate, where she’d gone to high school, and even her wedding date when he noticed the rings on her finger. He then asked more recent questions like what she had for breakfast and the last vehicle she had driven.

Then he asked a question that made her pause.

“Last menstrual cycle?”

Violet stopped watching the little light he was shining into her eyes. “Why does that matter?”

Brian smiled. “It’s a common question for checkups, I suppose. And nearly all women can answer it, so it’s something to add to the list of semi-recent events that may have been forgotten if you were concussed. Not that I think you are, clearly. You answered everything else fine.”

But not that question.

Because Violet wasn’t sure.

The longer she stayed quiet, counting days in her head and realizing she’d missed appointments with her New York doctor while in Chicago, the stranger she felt. That was why she’d been heading over to the clinic that morning, to update her birth control shot and have her regular checkup.

That strange feeling wouldn’t leave.

A little nervous.

Out of breath.

Hot in her blood.

Terrified.

Excited …

“Violet?” the doctor asked. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

She didn’t think there was anything else to say or tell.

At least not to the doctor.