Page 28 of Where the Wind Whispers

Silently, Violet tossed up a prayer that Kaz had asked to hold onto the jewelry just in case because if the way her father was looking at her was any indication, he planned to do nothing good to the rings.

“He took them from me,” Violet said, a quake in her voice and wetness in her eyes.

It wasn’t a lie.

She had never been very good at lying to Alberto.

He always seemed to know.

The sneer Alberto sported melted away, leaving a frown in its wake. “Then I suppose you know now, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“What this feels like,” Alberto murmured sadly. “How much it hurts inside your soul when something you love betrays you. I gave you everything and look at what you did to me. Look at what he’s done to you. And for what? What do you have now?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

That time, it was a lie.

Alberto didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.

He was too lost in his own thoughts.

“Well, my dear, we’ll see about that. And if you aren’t truly sorry, you certainly will be.” Alberto let her go with no forewarning, adding, “You might as well leave those bags where they are, Violet.”

She straightened quickly, putting a few steps between her and Alberto. “But it’s my things and—”

“You won’t need them. They came from him. And like everything else he gave you, it too will go away in time. I’ll burn it for all I give a damn. You can even watch.”

What had they done?

“If you’re going to be a miserable bastard, you shouldn’t have sent her away.”

Kaz liked to think his brother meant well, but at the moment, he was contemplating shooting the man in the fucking face just to get him to shut up. It didn’t matter that Violet had only been gone one week, four days, six hours, and seventeen minutes—not that he was fucking counting—he was ready for her to be back. It also didn’t matter that he was hardly home as it was. Just knowing that she wouldn’t be there when he was only annoyed him further.

Now, he was arguing with himself as to whether or not he had made the right decision.

But the quicker he got this done, the faster she would be back home where she belonged—her and their baby.

Rus smacked the back of Kaz’s head then waved his hand in front of his face. “Earth to fucking Kaz, come in, you idiot.”

Glaring, Kaz shoved his hand away and asked, “Do I look like I’m in the mood for your shit today, Rus?”

“Doesn’t look like you’re in the mood for anything but self-pity. There’s shit to do, Kazimir. Did Alfie ever get back to you on that question you asked him?”

An errant thought had plagued Kaz over the length of his recovery—how could Vasily get as close as he did with no one noticing. Kaz didn’t think for a second that it had been because of the Chicago family or Rus—they hated the man as much as he did. And though Alfie liked to straddle the fence, he wasn’t Vasily’s biggest fan, either.

Which could mean that someone within the Bratva was aiding Vasily.

It made sense. Not everyone had been happy with Kaz taking over—especially those who were closest to his father, but he hadn’t found anything back then. No one was stepping out of line, or at least, that was what he thought.

They were better at hiding it than he originally thought.

But no matter how long it took, he would find each and every one of them.

“He did,” Kaz said glancing over at his brother. “But he didn’t give an answer, merely an address. That was why I needed you to come to me—we’re supposed to be meeting him in an hour.”

Rus frowned, even as he followed behind Kaz toward his car. “I don’t see how you trust someone like that.”