Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(19)

The house he was driving to hadn’t been the only residence in Little Odessa that Kaz lived in. Before, they—he, his parents, and siblings—lived in a more modest two-story a little ways away. Vasily had moved the family after Kaz’s eleventh birthday, and some months after Vasily had become the new Pakhan.

As he turned onto 296 West End Avenue, typing in the code to get through the gated entry, Kaz could already see the fleet of cars parked in the driveway. Most were of his father’s collection—all luxury, but none as bold as Kaz’s Porsche—and one, he knew, belonged to his father’s attorney, Gerald Tansky. Since the man got paid even if he was only stopping by, Kaz had to wonder why he was there.

Pulling around, he parked a good distance away from the other vehicles, because family or not, if you scratched his car, he’d be pissed. Exiting, he dug his hands into his pockets as he headed for the front door, checking his surroundings as he always did before raising his fist to knock. He took a step back, waiting, listening to the soft click of heels as they neared the door. His smile, a genuine one this time, was already curling his lips before she even had the door open.

Swathed in a peach-colored dress that ended at her knees, Irina Markovic looked every bit of the housewife that she was. Never a hair out of place, the brown strands were twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck, showing off the simple diamond earrings adorning her ears.

“Kazimir,” she said warmly, already reaching to draw him into her embrace.

When his father called him that, it annoyed him, but he never minded from her. “Privyet, Mama,” he spoke softly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “How are you?”

“Very well. Your father is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

He could tell just by the look on her face that Vasily was definitely angry with him and she was curious as to why, but she would never come right out and ask. She followed the rules in that way.

Waiting at her side as she closed and turned the locks, he figured since he was there, he didn’t have to rush. He was on time after all.

“How are you, Kazimir? You look tired,” she said looking up at him, even in her heels, as they headed for the kitchen.

“Fine, Mama. It was just a long night.” And an early morning, but he didn’t bother mentioning that. To say he was not a morning person was an understatement. Thankfully, a lot of his business could be done at night.

“And your brother, how is he?”

This question was asked softly, so low that Kaz knew the question was meant only for him to hear, and that fact annoyed him. Not because she was asking the question at all, but because she felt she had to sneak to do it.

“Good.”

“You’ll watch after him, yes?” she asked reaching for his hand, squeezing it lightly.

Ruslan didn’t need looking after, plus he was the oldest, but because she rarely saw him, she made this request whenever Kaz came around. Since she couldn’t dote on Ruslan, she made sure at the very least, Kaz watched out for him. Sometimes, Kaz felt like he was the oldest.

“Of course, I—”

“Kazimir, get in here!” Vasily called out, his voice echoing.

The booming sound might have been enough to frighten a lesser man, but Kaz merely rolled his eyes, looking back down to his mother, who was smiling apologetically.

“Go on, you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

As he bent at the waist, giving her a chance to kiss his cheek and wipe away the trace of lipstick before she disappeared around the corner, she made herself scarce for their talk. Kaz hardened himself as he always did, heading into the lion’s den.

The kitchen was a cavernous space, made that way after his mother had made the request. Vasily, who loved to dote on his wife, gave her exactly what she asked for. Bay windows made up one wall, allowing an unobstructed view to the beach a mere walking distance from the house. The sunlight shining in through them made the white cabinetry seem brighter, and the gray marbled flooring stand out more.

Gerald was seated at the dining table, a newspaper in hand as he read the front page, acting oblivious to Kaz’s appearance. Vasily, on the other hand, was glaring at Kaz from his position behind the island, a tumbler filled with amber liquid in his hand.

Unlike Kaz who was dressed in all black, Vasily was dressed in a pin-striped suit, a blood-red shirt beneath it, with a matching handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a delicate gold chain that hung around his neck. His once-dark hair was mostly gray now, and thinning in the middle, but he kept it styled where one could hardly tell.

“A little early for spirits, no?” Kaz asked, careful to keep his tone as respectful as possible.

“With the shit you pulled last night,” Vasily started. “I could be drinking from a bottle.” Downing his drink, in one swallow, he set the glass on the counter. “Tell me, what were you thinking?”

It was scary, how quickly Vasily went from angry to calm in a couple of seconds. Kaz could still remember a time when that worried him, when he had no idea what to expect, but now he was older, and his father’s anger didn’t faze him as much.

“They—those girls—were in the wrong place.”

“You knew better,” Vasily said after a moment, already reaching for the carafe of Brandy resting behind him on the marble countertop. “You could have dropped that girl off the second you were out of our territory.”