Page 34 of Where the Wind Whispers

The name felt … familiar. Somehow.

It was surely appropriate for the man if his temper and behavior was any indication. He certainly acted like a fucking tyrant or so it seemed.

“Get a chair, son. Say hello, and sit down,” Angelo said without even turning to greet his son.

Caesar took the chair next to his father, the one closest to Violet, and directly across from Carmine’s position. He offered Carmine a cocky grin. “Long time, no see, Carmine. It’s been what—three years?”

Carmine’s features barely changed from the stone mask he now wore. “Has it been that long? How’s Tiffany? I haven’t talked to her since I kicked her ass out of my place. Is she still jerking you off under the table at family dinners?”

“Carmine!” Alberto barked. “That is enough.”

Well, Violet supposed she didn’t need the wine as she watched her brother and Caesar glare at one another from their respective positions.

This dinner just got a whole lot more interesting.

Seven hours and one red-eye flight to Chicago later, Kaz was in the backseat of the car that Vadim had sent to pick him up from the private airfield. While he had been free to come and go as he pleased when he was only using the city as a refuge, that was no longer the case when he was attempting to go up against a politician to get to his father.

For that, Vadim, the head and patriarch of the Boykov family, had requested a meeting first.

Though he knew which way the man would lean once he told him everything he knew, Kaz understood the man’s precaution and knew that he would need more than what little Denis had offered if he was to sway the man.

That was why Kaz had tasked Alfie with the job of finding out who was helping his father. It was one of the skills Alfie had mastered. It was why, though he was still skeptical as to what he would find on the tape, Kaz trusted that whatever was there would definitely be enough.

Before leaving, he hadn’t bothered to pack a bag or bring anything with him, though he had found a small electronics shop where he could purchase a camera that fit the tape.

If he were honest, Kaz hadn’t thought the Brit would have been able to find the man, or men, responsible, not in such a short amount of time—less than two weeks actually. But then again, as he pressed play and waited for the footage to play, it hadn’t been less than a couple of weeks.

Longer, in fact, if the timestamp at the bottom of the screen was to be believed. This was more than a month ago, back when Kaz still in the hospital and unable to ask Alfie to do anything.

He didn’t believe for a second that the man would have gone hunting on his own. He was far too selfish.

Then again, he had shown up to the hospital with Vera, as though he had every right …

Maybe Kaz had underestimated their relationship, and even as that thought processed, he didn’t like the idea that there was a relationship at all.

But that was a conversation for another day.

Focusing back on the video, Kaz tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The camera was set at an odd angle—one that made him think whoever was behind the surveillance had worn a hidden camera.

The wearer was at a restaurant, sitting a couple of tables down from Vasily and a man Kaz didn’t immediately recognize. Anger bubbled up inside him as he watched his father smiling, laughing as he enjoyed his drink, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

As though he hadn’t left Kaz for dead in the middle of a New York sidewalk.

As more time passed—over twenty minutes—Vasily lost that careful smile on his face and his annoyance flared as he said something to the man that earned him a shake of his head. When he repeated the question and got the same answer in response, Vasily reached across the table and fisted the front of the man’s suit jacket. Pulling him until they were nose-to-nose, Vasily’s displeasure was clear.

This time, the man didn’t shake his head. Instead, he yanked out a small cell phone and made a call.

The scene cut off there then another one replaced it just as quickly. This time, it was Denis standing outside a convenience store with a cigarette in his hand as he listened to a call. Whoever was behind the camera, this time, was shorter, and obviously didn’t pose a threat since Denis didn’t seem to pay them much attention.

Was that how Alfie did it? He had a bunch of spies who fed him information?

Denis spoke in rapid Russian, probably not thinking that his conversation would get back to Kaz.

“No,” he said to whomever he spoke with, “he’s still under. The Italian girl hasn’t left his side, and his brother has people in his room at all times.”

He paused a beat, listening to the response on the other end. “Ruslan ordered that we all look for you, but I’ll make sure they stay clear, boss.”

There was only one man Denis would call ‘boss.’