Violet sank a little deeper under the hot, bubbly water. With her eyes closed, the vanilla scented bubble bath soaked into her senses, relaxing her further.
Happiness chased bliss through her bloodstream.
From the side, she heard Kaz chuckle.
Violet didn’t even open her eyes as she asked, “What are you laughing about?”
“You—smiling for no particular reason.”
“I’m smiling because I’m happy.”
“Ah, I see.” His palm curved her jaw, his thumb sweeping her cheekbone. She tilted her head, letting it rest in his hand. “That is a good reason to smile then.”
“I thought so.”
“Are you almost ready to get out?” he asked.
Violet hummed a soft, “No.”
Kaz’s amused chuckles echoed in the bathroom all over again. “You’re going to be a prune, Violet.”
“So?”
Maybe she had been in the bath for a little while.
But maybe Kaz had been encouraging her with the way he kept draining the water and putting more bubbles in when he refilled it.
In a way, it was sort of his fault.
“Krasivaya …”
“Hmm?” she asked, smiling when she felt his thumb stroke closer to the corner of her mouth.
“If you get out now, we can order from that place you like before they close at midnight. Late supper.”
“Not hungry.”
“Liar.”
Violet gave his palm a kiss and then settled her cheek back into his hand. “I’m not, honestly. You should stop worrying about me. I know that’s what you’re doing. Right now, I am happy, Kaz. I am fine. Everything is …”
Great.
Perfect.
Wonderful.
“As it should be,” Violet settled on saying.
When she was with Kaz, everything was always exactly as it should be.
“I won’t deny the worrying,” Kaz murmured, “but, perhaps, I’d like to have you out of the bath, dried, and underneath me again. You did say twice a day, no?”
Violet opened her mouth to respond, but her words failed when she heard the gentle splash of his hand as it dipped below the water and landed right between her thighs. Her air caught hard in her chest when his other hand moved from her cheek to high on her throat, his thumb pressing against her lips.
Her eyes flew wide open as his fingers stroked her under the water, two pressing deep, curling upward in just the right spot while his thumb flicked up to press hard against her sensitive clit.
Slow.
Steady.
Insistent.
Knowingly.
The pad of Kaz’s thumb muffled Violet’s moan as she found him watching her, so interested, always curious. It was almost as if he loved to watch all the sounds fall from her lips. Like it was his favorite thing next to making her scream.
Kaz arched a single brow, his lips curving into a smirk as he watched her. Violet’s movements were involuntary—she pushed her hips into his hand with every thrust, making the water slosh around the sides of the tub.
“You’re beautiful when you come, Violet,” he said quietly.
He was, too.
She didn’t think he realized it, but he was the most natural at that moment.
She loved it.
“Come on, give it to me, and then I can get you in bed like I want you,” Kaz said.
Violet’s teeth caught her bottom lip as the first sparks of bliss started dancing across her skin. Kaz wasn’t having that, as his thumb pulled her lip free and then swept over the wet, red flesh.
“I might even let you get on your knees again and watch you lick me clean, Violet …”
Another stroke of his fingers, dragging across that spot again and he was making her see stars, his words dark and heady in her ear, and his thumb sinking into her mouth, promising to fill it, too … and she was gone.
Violet felt his hand leave her throat and wind up in the hair that she had piled on the top of her head. Kaz pulled her head to the side as she shook and panted her way through an orgasm that seemed to sweep over her slowly, and he leaned over the side of the tub to kiss her hard.
The cloying sensations weren’t even gone entirely before he was pulling away, his hands leaving her body and her hair. He hit the plug, making the water drain, and reached behind him for the towel he already had waiting there.
Violet would have helped—stood up, dried herself, or something.
Kaz pulled her out of the water without a word, setting her on the edge of the tub with the towel ready. He kissed her again, softer the second time, and his mouth didn’t leave hers as he ran the towel over her trembling form.
She wasn’t cold. That wasn’t why she shook.
She was hot as hell, and his tender actions only made it better.
Once Kaz was apparently satisfied that Violet was dry enough, he tossed the towel to the side and scooped her up into his embrace again. For the distance between the master bath and the bed in the attached bedroom, he crossed it quickly.
Violet’s back hit the middle of the bed, and she had just caught sight of Kaz fisting his boxer-briefs and shoving them down before his knees hit the bed and he was moving toward her. His hands met her thighs, spreading her wide enough that her muscles protested, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care when his head dipped down, and his mouth found her sex.
Her thoughts were gone—just like that.
The strike of his tongue.
The nip of his teeth.
The pressure of his fingers digging into her legs.
He teased her right back to the edge of that cliff with his tongue, and then he was pulling her back from it as he lifted his head, shot her a grin, and started kissing a burning path from her pubic bone to the underside of her jaw.
“Next time,” he promised in her ear. “Next time, I’ll make you shake and scream over and over with just my mouth, hmm? Not right now, though.”
Violet’s hands uncurled from the blankets she’d grabbed, one tangling into Kaz’s hair and the other raking down the tattoos on his chest. She loved the way his muscles jumped under her touch, but he never gave a thing away. His expression never changed from that sexy smirk and intense gray stare.
“We’re fine,” she told him.
Violet wasn’t even sure why she said it—he hadn’t asked.
She thought that maybe, he needed to hear it. From her.
Again.
Not just that she was fine, regardless of what had happened, or what was yet to come, but that they were perfectly fine.
Still just Violet and Kaz.
“Fine,” he echoed above her.
Violet felt his hand between their bodies as he readjusted his cock to line up with her wet slit. He dropped down to his elbows, his lips ghosting over her chin and jaw just a breath’s worth of time before he grabbed her hip and thrust forward.
Maybe it was their earlier fucking, and then the orgasm she’d just had, but she felt sensitive to the touch, and it was overwhelming.
It didn’t hurt, but she felt every inch of him as he filled her.
Kaz let out a low curse, his head falling forward to rest against her chest. She could feel it in the muscles of his back—how he strained to keep still for just that brief moment.
Violet didn’t need or want him to be still.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, tugging on the strands of his hair.
Kaz’s grin grew against her skin. “Wait a second, krasivaya.”
She dragged her nails down across his shoulder.
He sucked in a hiss of air.
Apparently, that was all he needed. Violet arched off the bed as Kaz pulled out, and just as fast, he pushed right back in, the force moving them farther up the bed.
His arm wrapped around her back, holding tight. She barely got his name out of her mouth before his teeth found the cord in her neck and bit down hard enough to leave one of his marks behind.
Another one, she knew.
He just kept adding more.
But Violet really didn’t mind.
Every pull came faster, and every stroke came deeper.
Through the haze, she heard him say, “Love you.”
Violet figured the rest really didn’t matter as long as he kept saying those words.
“Love you.”
Nothing captured one’s attention quite like the sight of a man hanging from the ceiling by his ankles, but as Kaz entered the warehouse—Kolya had texted him an address nearly an hour ago—his gaze immediately went to the Italian from the car wreck as he swung like a pendulum.
Though a cloth was stuffed in his mouth, he screamed what sounded like a plea the moment his wild gaze locked on Kaz, but the words were lost beneath his gag.
“I think he’s trying to say something,” Konstantin said from his spot in a chair across the room, gesturing at the man with his cigarette.
“Then he can wait.”
“What’s the fucking point if we can’t hear them speak?” Konstantin asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Then we’re torturing—at least torturing whatever the hell is left of him—just to do it.”
“That’s because you lack patience. Sure, you can get a man to tell you things before you start—but who fucking knows how legit that information is. No, you get a little of the torture out of the way”—Kolya punctuated this by picking up a scalpel, and running the sharpened blade over the man’s stomach, red welling in its wake— “and he’ll tell you everything he knows.”
Ripping the man’s gag out, Kolya tossed the cloth on the table and took a step back, folding massive arms across his chest as he glared over at Kaz. “About fucking time. I’m sure we would all like to be buried in pussy, yet here we are. Waiting on you.”
“Then learn not to yell at your wife.”
Kaz had expected Kolya to lash out, but the man merely shrugged, as if to say fair enough.
Turning his attention to the Italian, Kaz asked, “Who is he?”
“Vito, he said—or whatever the fuck. By the time I got a name out of him, he was barely conscious.”
Shrugging out of his jacket, Kaz tossed the material on a chair as he crossed the distance to Vito, laying a hand on the man’s leg to keep him from swinging further.
“Here’s the thing, Vito,” Kaz said, “You can’t tell me anything I don’t already know. I know Alberto sent you here. I know why he did it. So what’s stopping me from giving you over to my friend here?”
Vito’s mouth opened as he attempted to speak, but blood spurted from his mouth as he coughed, trying to clear his airway.
“Take your time,” Konstantin called out from the other side of the room.
“T-There was a m-meeting between Vasily and the boss.”
That was something Kaz had already figured. “Go on.”
“He gave us y-your location.”
Still, not something he didn’t already know, but the man looked like he was about ready to pass out. Before he could, Kaz snatched the bottle of water from Kolya’s hand, splashing the man in the face.
“Pay attention.” Tapping his cheek a few times, Kaz forced his attention on him. “I already know that. Give me something I don’t.”
Kaz had assumed he would have more time, give him a chance to find dirt on Vasily another way—particularly through the men who worked for him. Some were loyal to a fault, but others didn’t blindly follow Vasily, especially since he had taken Gavrill’s seat.
He hadn’t accounted for how quickly the Italians would find them.
But this could work for him … depending on just how much Vito knew.
He could see it in the man’s eyes, that reluctance to spill secrets he had probably kept for years. But he also knew he was going to die, and holding someone’s confidence meant nothing once you were in the ground.
“They’ve met … before.”
Now, they were getting somewhere. “Continue.”
“Back when the war was at its peak … Word was the boss wanted to have a meeting with yours, but Gavrill ignored the invitation. Vasily answered it instead.”
That much Kaz could remember. Even with how crazy that time had been, he still recalled the cemetery with Violet at his side and how important Vasily had told him that meeting was.
“They made a deal,” Vito said in a rush. “Vasily wanted the boss’ chair. Alberto wanted the fighting to stop. They agreed that Vasily would set it up, and Alberto would do the rest. As long as we avoided each other in the future, there was no need for retaliation.”
Fucking hell. Vasily had done it, but what Kaz was learning now was that it wasn’t just ammunition to use against his father. This information was enough to get the man killed.
And it explained why he never wanted the truth to come out.
“Gavrill was walking with that wife of his, but she had gone into a shop. He never saw it coming.”
“You were there then, no?”
Vito, realizing too late just how much he had revealed, stumbled over his next words. But there was no point, not when Kaz had everything he needed to know now.
Before he could think of something useful to say, Kaz asked, “What was his name—the man who pulled the trigger?”
“I don’t—”
Digging his finger into one of the cuts in Vito’s side, he waited until the man’s screaming finally died off before he said, “I won’t repeat myself.”
“Christian.”
Kaz pulled his finger free, wanting clarification. “And he is the one who killed my uncle?”
Letting his head drop, Vito whispered, “Yes.”
“Good man.” Patting the man on the stomach, he took a step back. “I have a gift for you, Vito. Kolya is going to release you and let you go.”
Even though he had yet to be asked, Kolya grabbed the remote, turning a dial that brought the machine to life and eased Vito to the floor.
Grabbing his own cigarette from a pack, Kaz put it between his lips and flicked the lighter, watching the flame dance. As he took in a lungful, the nicotine burned straight through his lungs. “You make it through those doors, and no one will stop you.”
Vito could barely stand as Kolya cut him free, but his eyes were wild and aware, focused on them so intently that he had yet to see which exit Kaz meant. But he wasted no time moving toward one, though he never turned his back, afraid of what might be done if he did.
But very soon, self-preservation kicked in, and Vito was stumbling over himself to get away. He only got so far before Kaz took one last drag from his cigarette and dropped it on the ground …
Mere feet before Kaz reached for the gun at his waist, raising it until he could see Vito at the end of it, and fired, watching the man’s leg give out as the bullet shredded the muscle of his thigh.
“Don’t stop now,” Kaz said as he started across the floor, his eyes set on the man holding his bleeding wound. “Just a few feet, suka.”
With a cry of pain, Vito used his other arm, trying his damnedest to drag himself across the concrete floor while leaving a streak of blood in his wake.
Kaz wasn’t cruel. He allowed the man another few inches before he aimed and fired again, this time in his other leg.
“This can’t be any worse than what was done to Gavrill, no?” Kaz asked over the man’s shouts, unmoved by his tears. “And see, what you don’t know is that my brother was the one to find the body—a child.”
Kaz only remembered pieces, just brief flashes of days and times, but this one … this one stuck with him over the years, branding itself on Kaz’s conscience. He could still remember the way Rus had stopped speaking for forty-eight hours after he found him after coming out of the ice-cream shop he had gone in with his aunt.
Kaz still wasn’t sure what all Rus had seen that fateful day when he had gone off to their uncle’s, only to return with his hands stained red, his eyes wide with horror, even as Vasily stood at his back with his hands on his shoulders.
The only reason Kaz even had an idea of how bad it had been was because he had gone to his father with questions years later—Ruslan still, to this day, refused to speak of it.
Vito raised bloody hands. “Mercy.”
Shaking his head, Kaz used his foot to roll the man over onto his back. “Ask whoever you see on the other side—I have none.”
His head hit the ground hard as the round plugged into his forehead, his body gone limp.
“Looks like I’ll be going home a little early,” Kaz said as he faced the brothers. “It’s only a matter of time before word gets back to Vasily that this first batch didn’t make it home.”
And when he did, Kaz didn’t doubt that Vasily would know exactly what Kaz’s next move would be.
Violet could smell the coffee from the top of the stairs, and it smelled like heaven brewing. She didn’t think it odd that Kaz was brewing a pot of coffee instead of just making the instant blend as he usually did because she was just happy he was making her coffee.
She skidded to a stop in the kitchen entryway at the sight of the man sitting at the island, a newspaper in one hand, an unlit cigarette twirling between the fingers of his other, and two cups of coffee waiting in front of him.
Konstantin.
Of the two Boykov brothers, Violet liked Konstantin better. If only because the man seemed more approachable, although he was a little strange sometimes. She also hadn’t seen Konstantin around nearly as much as Kolya was, but she blamed that on Maya coming over to the townhouse. Her husband usually just followed, scowl always in place.
Konstantin, however, was almost a stranger to Violet.
Yet she did like him a little bit more than she did his brother.
“You make a habit of this, I see,” Konstantin said, never taking his eyes off whatever he was reading in the newspaper.
Violet didn’t have the first clue what he was talking about. “Pardon?”
He waved a hand, gesturing at her. “I’m going to assume you sleep with nothing on when you come down in the mornings wearing … that.”
She glanced down at the white T-shirt she had on, realizing what he meant. Embarrassment heated her cheeks as she said, “Don’t start, Konstantin.”
The man was already grinning. “Coffee will still be hot. I’m doing the right thing by reading and not looking at you. Get dressed.”
Violet cursed her way back upstairs and found something more suitable to wear. She didn’t have a great selection, though, as she hadn’t been given much time to go out and shop for clothes. She only had what she’d brought with her.
And so what if she liked Kaz’s clothes?
Once Violet was back down in the kitchen, she silently glared at Konstantin as he slid her coffee across the island toward her.
“Is this a thing?” she asked.
Konstantin raised a single brow high. “A thing?”
“A Russian thing or something.” Violet almost smiled at the look of confusion passing over Konstantin’s features. “It seems like none of you ever knock. You all just come right in and make yourself at home. And where is Kaz?”
“For one thing, no, it is not a Russkaya thing, as you said. It’s a Boykov thing,” he said, a sly smile tilting the corner of his mouth upward. “We’re very … personable people.”
“Or you like inserting yourself into other people’s spaces.”
Violet was only teasing, and guessing by the amusement in Konstantin’s gaze, he knew it, too.
“Personable, a nuisance—same thing, no?”
“You and I have two different ideas of what being personable means,” she said.
Konstantin only shrugged, picking the newspaper back up. “Perhaps if you dressed when you woke up, you wouldn’t be put in these sorts of situations, yes?”
Violet knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, as it seemed Konstantin liked to do that with people—especially those he was friendly or close with. But she wasn’t so stupid of a girl that she didn’t recognize what else he had done.
He hadn’t answered her question about Kaz’s whereabouts.
“You must think I’m an easily distracted, simple Italian girl, huh?” Violet asked before lifting her coffee for a sip.
Konstantin’s attention never wavered from the paper. “Tell me, Violet, what was it like growing up in a Cosa Nostra family?”
What did that have to do with anything?
Still, she answered. “Suffocating.”
He dropped the paper just an inch. “That is an … interesting word to use. Why?”
“I didn’t realize it as I grew up, but now that I can look back at it all from the outside, it’s a lot clearer to me. It’s all about being groomed, from the clothes I wore to the way I did my hair. My behavior, my attitude, my image. Everything was checked, rechecked, and constantly monitored. That’s suffocating when you’re never really making choices for you but for your family.”
“What makes you think being with a Bratva man is any different? You still need to consider how you or your image may affect or reflect on him, especially a man like Kaz.”
“There’s a big difference.”
Konstantin dropped the pretense and the newspaper, discarding it to the island as he turned to face her fully. “Go on, tell me.”
“I was never given the choice with my family. Kaz has always been my choice.”
For a long while, Konstantin didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, taking in her words, and probably weighing them. Frankly, Violet didn’t give a shit what he or anyone else thought about her or the relationship she had with Kaz. People were always going to assume things about them—that she was just following behind a man, rebelling in a new way. Or maybe some might assume Kaz was using her as a way to push against the constraints set out for him by his family.
She honestly just didn’t care.
Violet didn’t need to explain or correct anyone.
Kaz knew.
She knew.
The rest could politely fuck right off.
“You surprise me,” Konstantin said, watching her in the most unnerving way. “But it isn’t the first time, and I learn quickly, so I doubt you’ll manage it again.”
“I’m well aware some people don’t think I’m … up to standard. For Kaz, I mean.”
Konstantin chuckled. “Would there not be people who thought the same of him where you’re concerned, Violet?”
She hadn’t really considered that, but when she did, one single thought came to mind.
A moment.
As passing and quick as it had been all those months ago.
Her father’s statement to Kaz as he held a gun to Alberto’s head.
If only you were Italian, my boy.
It didn’t matter that he would die for her—kill for her. He wasn’t good enough because he wasn’t Italian.
Konstantin’s smile faded away the longer Violet stayed silent. “You made the choice, yes? That’s what you said—he was a choice.”
“What about it?” Violet asked.
“You also chose the hell that comes with it, girl. Being Italian is just one of those things. You were right. People will always think you aren’t up to par, but I’m sure as you did with me, you’ll find a way to surprise them. You don’t have to be good enough for everyone else, Violet, only him.”
Violet took those words in and decided to keep them in the back of her mind whenever she felt out of place in their world. Maybe it was the culture, the language barrier at times, or just simply feeling like she was always being appraised and judged, but she’d needed those words.
“Thank you,” Violet said, not explaining why she was grateful.
Konstantin waved her statement off. “No worries. How do you feel about taking a few days to … well, get out of this townhouse and do some things?”
Violet just stared at him. “Kaz is gone, isn’t he?”
“What makes you think that?”
It was simple, really.
“He’d never let me leave this house after what happened—at least, not without someone he trusted with me. And you said a few days, so he isn’t coming back anytime soon.”
She tried not to be angry that Kaz had gone and not told her.
“I like you,” Konstantin said. “You’re quick.”
“Where is he?”
“New York.”
Violet liked Konstantin.
He was honest.
Even if the truth scared the fuck out of her.
“Why?” she asked.
Konstantin smiled lightly. “Many reasons.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
His amusement fled instantly as he repeated, “Many reasons.”
“You could give me one.”
“My father would never approve, and he’s one man I try not to irritate.”
Violet understood that better than Konstantin could possibly know. “So you’re stuck babysitting me while they’re having all the fun, huh?”
Konstantin’s serious expression cracked as he started laughing.
“Something like that, Violet.”