by Bethany-Kris
Violet didn't care. She liked the new SUV, anyway.
Kaz dropped the cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe the second he saw her approach with the car seat hanging off her arm. He was already taking the heavy seat before she could ask and opening the back door, directly behind the driver’s seat, to put Anastasya in.
It was only when he had her in the car did he stop to look in the car seat at his daughter.
Violet saw his back tense.
“Why isn’t she happy?” he asked.
She laughed.
What the hell else could she do?
“How can you tell when she’s happy or sad, Kaz? She has very few moods—hungry, sleepy, mommy, and daddy. That’s it.”
“And angry,” he added, shooting her a look over his shoulder. “She looks angry—why?”
Violet sighed. “She had her one month needles. It hurts.”
Kaz straightened, disbelief filling his features. “They stick her with needles? She’s a goddamn baby!”
“They’re not big ones.”
Violet was not helping.
She could tell just by the way Kaz glared at the clinic.
“She needs her vaccines,” Violet said quickly before Kaz could stew in his irritation for any longer than he already had. There was no need for him to get pissed off about something that would continue whether he approved or not. “It’s over in a couple of seconds. She cries for a bit then it’s over.”
Kaz closed the door on the baby, enclosing her in the SUV. “I’m going in next time.”
Violet shrugged. “Maybe she’ll calm down easier for you than she did for me.”
She doubted it would go over well with Kaz, but whatever. It was his choice.
“Dinner?” Kaz asked, pulling Violet to his side before she could move to get in the SUV. He pressed a kiss to her temple, making her smile. “The diner, yes?”
That sounded great, actually.
Violet and Anastasya didn’t leave the mansion very often, as it wasn’t exactly safe to do so. She was starting to get a little stir-crazy, though, and even something simple like dinner outside of the house was wonderful.
Simple, but wonderful.
“Should we?” Violet asked.
Kaz didn’t ask her to elaborate on her question. It spoke for itself. With everything that was happening, including Vera’s studio being bombed and then burned to the ground, the message was clear. No one from Kaz’s side of the bridge needed to be anywhere inside Brooklyn beyond Brighton Beach.
Violet didn’t ask for more information than Kaz offered to give to her. She didn’t know how he was handling things, or what was happening from his end. But there were more men posted at the house, and Kaz had been leaving a great deal more in the daytime.
Something was happening.
Or it would be.
“The diner is ours,” Kaz said. “It has fuck all to do with Alberto Gallucci.”
“Still in Lower Brooklyn, Kaz.”
“No one knows about it, krasivaya. Not as far as we’re concerned.”
Well, that was that.
Violet agreed with a smile and another kiss, only this time she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, giving him a wink as she stepped out of his arms before the kiss could lead to anything more.
Kaz’s head dropped back a little and he groaned, eyeing her from the side as she walked in front of the SUV to stand by the passenger door. “That wasn’t nice, Violet.”
“Two weeks,” she said.
His eyebrow lifted. “Two?”
“You can wait two weeks, Kaz.”
“That’s debatable.” Kaz smirked. “But I don’t have much of a choice, no?”
Violet grinned, opening up her door. “Nope.”
She was enjoying this far too much. No doubt, when they could finally fuck again, he would happily let her know just how little he appreciated her teasing.
Violet didn't mind a bit.
“Get in the car and stop looking so smug,” Kaz said, pulling open the driver’s door, “because I’m pretty sure I can still get your ass red and put you on your knees for something else before those two weeks are up, Violet.”
She was pretty fucking sure that her cheeks turned cherry red at his threat, given he’d said it loud enough that anyone within earshot could have heard it, and they were in a doctor’s parking lot.
“Kaz!”
He simply tipped his head at her before he was ducking inside the SUV without a reply.
Ass.
She kind of loved him for that, too.
Tossing her purse on the seat, Violet was just stepping up into the vehicle and grabbing the door when something caught her eye from the side. She didn’t even sit down in the seat fully because she had to turn around to look back and see what it was.
At first, she blinked.
Unsure and unsteady, her heart beat a little louder.
Kaz was fiddling with the buttons on the dash and then his fingers danced across the touchscreen, putting music on. He didn’t notice her distraction.
Violet, on the other hand, was frozen.
Just two rows down in an unsuspecting black town car was a man with a camera. No one would have seen him given his position and the dark windows.
Violet barely caught sight of the camera lens and the face behind it before the photographer was rolling up the window.
“Kaz,” Violet said.
“Yes?”
Finally, her husband took note of the color draining from her face.
Obviously, whoever it was hadn’t been placed there to hurt them—at least, not today. Had that been the case, he would have made a move on Kaz when he was on the phone and Violet was inside.
No, whoever it was … was watching them.
But why?
Was her father trying to monitor them on a private level?
“Violet, who the fuck was in that car?” Kaz asked.
He had leaned over her seat, his gaze pinned on the black car with its tires squealing against the pavement as it pulled out of the small lot.
“I don’t know who it was,” she answered.
“But?”
“But he had a camera. And it was pointed at us.”
Kaz swore under his breath. “No diner today, krasivaya.”
Violet didn’t argue.
There were a thousand other things Kaz would have liked to be doing other than sitting in his office with three of his best guys standing in front of him, too afraid to speak. Even he could admit that he hadn’t made the best of company since the Italians had hit his sister’s studio.
Vera was handling it better than he was; in fact, she was already looking for another location to move her business, but Kaz wouldn’t be satisfied until he got some answers.
And it was apparent that the three he had left in charge of getting them were fucking useless.
“You’re trying to tell me that you can’t find one fucking Italian in a fucking sea of Italians who knows something? What the fuck am I paying you for?”
The leader of the trio scratched his head, actually looking as though he was contemplating the answer. Kaz found himself dangerously close to pulling his gun.
“Get out of my sight and don’t come back until you have something fucking useful to say.”
As they shuffled out, Kaz took a breath, scrubbing a hand down his face as he tried not to let his frustration get the best of him.
It seemed Alberto was determined to drag this out as his father had, but Kaz no longer had the patience for it. He didn’t want to make it clean. He didn’t want there to be a conversation where he did things the proper way.
He was just ready to put Alberto in the fucking ground.
His phone’s sudden chiming drew him from his thoughts, the ringing only making his headache worse. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, Kaz put the phone to his ear.
“Speak.”
“Kaz, where are you?”
Vera’s panicked voice had
him sitting up straighter, his earlier agitation vanishing as worry replaced it. “What’s wrong?”
“Alfie,” she said in a rush, wind whipping in the background. “He—I didn’t really understand what he was saying, he was talking so fast. And he’s been upset ever since the store was blown up and—”
“Vera, slow down. Take a breath. Where is Alfie?”
“One of his restaurants, in the city. I can’t remember the name of it—Garden Eves, or Garden something?”
Kaz stood, already heading out of his office as he dug into his pocket for his keys.
Was Alberto going after Alfie, too? Was that his new play? It wasn’t a smart one, if he was. It was already bad enough that he had Kaz as an enemy, but couple the Brit into that and he was asking for the entire fucking city to be burned down.
“I know the place,” Kaz said with a nod to his men as they followed behind him. “What about it? Did the Italians hit it, too?”
“No,” Vera replied, venom lacing her tone. “It’s Alberto.”
Kaz’s grip on his phone tightened. “What about him?”
“He’s there.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Stay by the phone,” he said once he was in his Porsche. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Be careful, Kaz. And … make sure nothing happens to Alfie. For me, please.”
He hesitated before hanging up the phone, wanting to say more but knowing it wasn’t the right time. He couldn’t think of a single time that Vera had asked for his help with anything. She’d always been terribly independent in that way, but if she was asking for him for Alfie, of all people, then their relationship was far more serious than he’d originally thought.
As Kaz took off, still going far above the speed limit, though he was mindful of the cars following him, he used the Bluetooth to call Violet. Just the mention of her father’s name had him on edge, and he didn’t like the idea that he hadn’t even known the man was in the city.
Closer than he was comfortable.
“Kaz?”
He almost smiled, just the sound of her voice enough to quell some of his panic. “How’s my favorite girl?”
Her voice was softer when she responded. “Good. I’m good.”
“And our little one?” he asked, merging into the right lane to get around a slow driver—throwing up his middle finger at the car behind him when they had the nerve to honk.
“Sleeping peacefully. We’re good, Kaz, stop your worrying.”
“Rus still around?”
He already knew the answer but still felt compelled to ask. Ever since Alberto had gone as far as to blatantly attack Vera’s business, Kaz said fuck the regular security he had with Violet and their daughter. Instead, he asked Rus if he could do it.
He had agreed without question.
“Yeah, he’s taking us to a baby boutique—says he’s overdue to get Anastasya something new.”
The man took ‘uncle’ seriously. “Still in Brighton, yes?”
“Yeah … is there something wrong?”
Kaz had never been able to hide anything from her, even when he tried, but he didn’t want to worry her when there wasn’t a need. He could tell her about it all later. “Just making sure you’re safe.”
“Okay … I love you, Kaz.”
“I love you, too, krasivaya.”
As he hung up, Kaz could just see the front of the Garden Elves, and more importantly, the familiar black SUV parked out front. They had apparently only been seconds behind Alfie as he could just see the man unfurling from a sleek Jaguar, a gloved hand wrapped around the handle of a Beretta with a silencer attached to the end.
The men in the SUV barely had the chance to even turn their heads before a bullet slammed into them both. Kaz cursed low, shoving his car into park as he snapped his seat belt off and pushed his door open.
“Alfie!”
He was barely spared a glance as the Brit started in, quickly followed by three of his own as Kaz hurried behind them, stomping feet echoing behind him.
He barely made it through the door before Alfie was confronting a now smiling Alberto, who sat at a table in the center of the restaurant.
By the look on his face, it was clear that it was no accident he had ended up in one of Alfie’s restaurants—not that Kaz had thought that in the first place.
He knew better than that.
“If you don’t want to take a bullet right to the fucking face, yeah? Get the fuck out of my restaurant.” Alfie’s booming voice rang out around the restaurant, stirring movement that sent patrons flying out the door and tripping over themselves.
In a matter of seconds, the restaurant had emptied save for them and their guards.
“D’you know I promised the missus that I would sit out this spat of yours with the Russian? It has fuck all to do with me, so why not? Business as usual, eh?”
Alberto might have been sitting quietly, as though listening to every word that was spewing from Alfie’s mouth, but his gaze hadn’t left Kaz from the moment he stepped inside. There was no longer a condescending sort of amusement to his eyes whenever he looked upon him; now, there was just hatred and disgust.
But whether he was inclined to pay attention to Alfie, the other man made sure he had no choice. Raising his gun, Alfie fired off a shot, causing Alberto’s water glass to shatter.
That was enough to get his attention.
“No, not business as usual because you decided, in that muggy little brain of yours, that Vera was within limits to you. She’s the one fucking Russian you’ll never touch, understand? Make another fucking move against me and any fucking blood relation of yours still living will be dead within the fucking year, you wop.”
The insult was enough to spark a reaction in Alberto’s men, at least, the pair drawing for their weapons until they remembered that they were grievously outnumbered.
“The company you keep,” Alberto said, his gaze lingering on Alfie a moment before shifting to Kaz. “But what more should I expect from a Russian?”
Tucking his gun away, Kaz walked forward, mere feet from the table now. “You should have stayed gone, Gallucci—and you really shouldn’t have let me find you.”
“Oh, you think so?” he asked in return, every last bit of confidence the man possessed bleeding out of his pores at that moment.
“You don’t really think I’ll let you leave this room alive, do you?”
He didn’t care if they lit up half of Brooklyn; Alberto wouldn’t see his next sunrise.
“I don’t think you’ll have much choice, my boy. How’s my darling daughter, by the way?”
Alfie rolled his eyes, rage barely in check. “Let’s not talk about it, eh? Shoot him in the fucking face!”
“And your brother?” Alberto went on, as though Alfie had never spoken. “Or should I say the man that you’ve now made her babysitter? Tell me, do you think they’ve finished at that cute little boutique?”
His words were enough to make Kaz’s hand shoot out to catch Alfie’s wrist as he’d prepared to raise his own weapon to kill the man himself.
Unease came rushing up his spine though he made sure not to display it. “What are you on about, Gallucci? I know you’ve had your people following us, so believe me when I say if they even breathe the wrong way, Rus will put a fucking bullet in them.”
“Maybe he could,” Alberto returned with a sly grin, brushing invisible lint off his coat sleeve. “But how many do you think he can take? It only takes one bullet to kill, you know—or three, in this case.”
Kaz was lunging for the man before he’d even finished that statement, hands fisting the expensive material of his shirt. “You’re a fucking dead man,” he growled at him, slipping into Russian. He knew the other man wouldn’t understand, but he didn’t care.
Alberto still smiled, though he shook his head. “You’re predictable—just like your father. You act before you think, and that makes it easy to read you, Kazimir. It was only a matter of time before you
showed up here as you did now.”
He didn’t know that the only reason he even knew Alberto was in the city was because of Vera, but that wasn’t important because he was right. Whether he had found out first or not, he would have done exactly the same thing.
“Then you know how this ends.”
“The one man you saw? He isn’t the only one trailing them. There are others—plenty of others all waiting for a phone call from me. You kill me, they kill them.”
“Right then, nothing stopping me from doing the deed, eh?” Alfie asked, not bothered in the slightest by the idea that Violet, Anastasya, or Rus would be killed if Alberto couldn’t make his call.
That didn’t seem to factor to him.
“Unless you’re tired of that Russian girl warming your bed at night, put your gun away. You couldn’t possibly think that I wouldn’t prepare for you as well, Alfie?”
“What do you want?” Kaz demanded, not in the mood to go back and forth. “You showed up here for a reason, and if you wanted to kill me, I’d already be dead.”
“Quite right about that. I came here today to offer you a choice.”
Was he fucking serious? “Explain.”
“Violet, Anastasya, or Rus. Your choice.”
Though Kaz’s mind raced with possibilities, he didn’t think that anything Alberto said next would be what he wanted to hear. “What are you saying?”
“Only one—no, perhaps I should be generous—two of them will walk away today. How’s that for a choice?”
Kaz’s gun was back in his hand before he even had a mind to grab it. “You wouldn’t fucking dare hurt a fucking hair on my family.”
“Was that a choice there, boy? It didn’t quite sound like one.” Alberto tapped the face of his watch. “One minute, Kazimir. I’m meant to make the call in fifty-seven seconds now.”
He had fucked up.
Kaz had always been under the assumption that when Alberto struck, he would be gunning for him—not going after everyone but him.
“Of course,” Alberto said conversationally, “you could always go with the choice your colleague suggests—shooting me—but if that happens, they’re all as good as dead. And that includes the rest of your wretched family. Now, I do believe you have twenty seconds to make a decision. Would you like me to countdown?”