Page 83 of Where the Wind Whispers

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?”