Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(78)

There was a flash of some dark emotion in the man’s eyes, but it was gone before Kaz could read into it. “The uncle you loved and the man that was Pakhan were two very different people. You couldn’t possibly understand, not at your age. To you and your brother, he was the savior. You two treated the man like he was f*cking royalty though he wasn’t.”

Had they? Kaz remembered Ruslan’s doting, but never his own. Sure, he had looked up to his uncle, loved the man, but back then, before life and its pain came between them, Kaz had looked up to his father as well.

But even with his passionate speech, Kaz still didn’t miss one important detail. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

“No?” Vasily rested his fists on his desk as he stared across at Kaz, unblinking. He lacked the fatherly pride of only a few minutes ago, now replaced with coldness that Kaz had no trouble reading. “Why are you asking about this now, Kazimir? What has you so curious?”

Kaz had to quell his need to tap his fingers, balling his fists instead. “I hate being in the dark on certain matters—I’m sure you can understand this. Carmine Gallucci? He knows who I am, and what I’m capable of, but yet he stood toe-to-toe with me, spouting off about things I’m not sure of.”

“What did he say?” There was an edge to Vasily’s voice as he asked the question.

“You misunderstand. It’s what he didn’t say that concerns me. In one breath, he’s spouting off about how his family has helped ours. In the next, he’s telling me how he’ll put me down, just as he did my uncle.” Kaz moved to the edge of his seat. “That sounds pretty f*cking strange to me.”

Vasily slowly rose to his feet, the glare on his face enough to reflect his current mood. “If there is a question, ask it. My patience for this runs thin.”

“The meeting in the cemetery … what were the odds that it was about Gavrill?”

“I’ve told you to leave it be, Kazimir. Eto prikaz—that’s an order.”

That should have been the end of it. Should have.

But Kaz wasn’t done yet. “We know it was the Italians that killed Gavrill, I’ve heard you say as much. And yet, you never once tried to get back at them for it.”

“I’ll tell you why!” Vasily suddenly shouted, his face gone red with rage. “Your uncle was a f*cking tyrant, and cared nothing for the lives of the men that had to answer for the shit he pulled. Do you think he cared that you were almost killed because of a turf war he started? Or even that you were practically blind for weeks? No, none of that mattered. He only cared for money and sating his bloodlust.”

Very calmly, Kaz asked, “So he needed to die?”

There was a moment where Vasily’s lips moved just as he was about to answer the question, but he caught himself, shaking his head as though to get his control back. “Of course not.”

It took years before Kaz could see it, that tell that betrayed Vasily’s thoughts. For the longest time, he had never been able to tell whether his father was lying or not, not until he was seventeen. And his tell was not one that could be easily seen, not unless one knew to look for it, and only if they were close enough to see.

But he was close enough then, and he could clearly see that his father’s eyebrows were twitching, like the muscles there couldn’t be controlled.

Except, Kaz knew.

Vasily was lying.

“Right.” Kaz regarded his father, taking in the details he never paid attention to in the past. “Are we done here? I’ve got shit to do.”

Vasily waved him off. “Go.”

Kaz moved to do just that, but as he hit the door, Vasily called behind him. “Careful what questions you ask, Kazimir. You won’t always like the answer.”

Or rather, he wouldn’t like the way Vasily responded.

Leaving the unspoken threat hanging between them, Kaz left the office, then the building entirely. For once, he was ready to get the hell out of Little Odessa.





Violet stepped out of the taxi after handing over the cash for the fare. She stepped up onto the sidewalk, noting how dark and quiet the street was, like it had practically shut down for the night. It was a rare find in Brooklyn where a person could always find something open, something to do.

She checked her phone again, making sure she had given the driver the right street address that Kaz had messaged her earlier. It was.

So where was he?

Shifting the messenger bag over her shoulder, Violet took a few steps down the street, and stopped when lights flashed at her from the side. Hidden just in the mouth of the alleyway between two large buildings was a familiar Porsche.

And Kaz, leaning against the hood with his key ring in hand. He hit a button on the fob, flashing the lights at her again.

“Cute,” she told him.

Kaz shrugged. “Better than standing way out in the open looking around for nothing.”

“Ass.”

“A little,” he agreed. “Are you just going to stand there all day, or …?”

Laughing, Violet made a beeline for Kaz. She was well aware of how much she constantly found herself thinking of him, or what he might be doing, and how that often left her missing him in one way or another. But seeing him brought it all bubbling right back up to the surface, fast and fierce.

It had yet to fail to surprise her.