Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(25)

That might have been the stupidest shit he had ever heard, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Without thinking, he took a step closer, taking her hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, brushing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.

“You can’t help that though, can you?”

Her lips parted, her gaze shooting up to his own. It was there, if only for a moment, the naked desire she couldn’t quite hide. Maybe he was playing with fire, but for once, he didn’t care.

“Spasibo—thank you,” he said finally releasing her. “For everything.”

He left her there, going back out to his car, tipping the man as he carefully arranged the gifts in his passenger seat. Ultimately, they would have to be moved once he picked up Ruslan, but he didn’t think about that for the time being.

His thoughts were on Violet and the way her skin felt against his own.





Unlike Kaz who had an apartment right in the heart of Little Odessa, Ruslan liked his privacy, taking up residence in one of the row-style houses on the outskirts. Though it was older, he had made repairs—the roof, the fence surrounding the property, and a new paint job—and took meticulous care of it so that it didn’t look its age. Though their father would not step a foot inside—it wasn’t up to his standards—Ruslan loved the place.

Pulling up outside, Kaz parked alongside the curb, laying on the horn as soon as his foot hit the brake. Since his brother always insisted he call to announce his presence—as opposed to coming straight up to the door—Kaz elected to ignore that decision and do what he wanted, even as he respected Ruslan’s request.

It was the little things, Kaz thought as Ruslan swung open the door, flipping him off before disappearing back inside.

Five minutes later, he was back, dressed quite similarly to Kaz, though his suit was navy with a crisp, white shirt. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for the oldest Markovic, but Kaz could tell that he’d put in an extra effort with his appearance.

“You said an hour,” Ruslan commented as he folded his big body into the car. “And you couldn’t drive your Range Rover today?”

Though Kaz had customized the car, paying far more than any rational person would to make sure it would fit his impressive height, Ruslan still barely fit.

“What? I love this car.”

Though his eyes were shielded by a pair of sunglasses, Kaz could practically feel Ruslan’s eye roll as he looked out the window.

“Yeah, the whole world f*cking knows it, too.”

“Someone’s in a surly mood … Didn’t get any last night?” Kaz was smiling, oblivious to the glare Ruslan was shooting in his direction. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how does that wor—”

Before Kaz could even get the question out, Ruslan slammed a meaty fist into his shoulder, making Kaz bark out a laugh, even as he quickly straightened the wheel when they nearly swerved into the next lane.

“Are you trying to kill us?” he shot in Ruslan’s direction, still fighting a smile.

“Just you.”

Kaz shrugged, unbothered. “At least you’re honest.”

“No, but seriously. Where the hell were you? You’re never late.”

The last thing he felt like doing was explaining to his brother who he had run into at the boutique—and more, that he had even talked to her—especially after having Vasily on his ass about it. Ruslan wouldn’t usually care who Kaz talked to, but if it was somebody like Violet Gallucci—especially because it was Violet Gallucci—he wouldn’t bite his tongue.

“Had to get the twins’ their gifts. Just took longer than I thought.” One thing Kaz wouldn’t do was lie—he didn’t believe in it, but he could omit parts.

“Yeah, right.” Ruslan might not have believed him, but he didn’t pry. “Tell me … What’s the likelihood that the day won’t fall to shit because of this party?”

Turning on Oceana drive, knowing they were only about ten minutes from the place they both rarely enjoyed going back to, Kaz shook his head. “We’re not even on the scale.”





Unlike the rest of the guests that were steered around to the back of the mansion from the driveway, Kaz and Ruslan went through the house instead, knowing that Irina would be in the kitchen. If they could put off seeing their father for as long as possible, they would.

There were decorations all around, balloons and glittery things that made the space look more like a family lived there instead of a showroom. Sure enough, Irina was in the kitchen, overlooking the caterers as they plated food and put the finishing touches on a massive birthday cake with a candle depicting 16 resting at the top. She was just about to give instructions to a girl holding a platter of shrimp when she caught sight of her sons.

And more importantly, Ruslan.

Irina didn’t even bother to finish her request before she was crossing the floor and pulling Ruslan into a tight hug. Kaz didn’t mind that the attention wasn’t on him. After all, he’d seen her two weeks prior, and Ruslan … he couldn’t remember the last time Ruslan had seen their mother.

“I’m so happy you could make it.” Pulling back after a moment, she touched his face in motherly affection, looking him over for any changes since the last time she’d seen him. “You look thinner. Are you eating?”