Violet kept her head bent down and her hands joined with her friends on both sides. Her father, at the head of the table like always, finished saying grace with his usual solemn thanks and little else. Violet had always thought that when it came to their family, religion was more for show than having actual faith in a higher power that protected them.
After all, her family wasn’t exactly what she would call good people.
Well-dressed, sure. Nicely cultured and polite, absolutely. Rich, yes.
Sin was still sin, underneath it all.
“The opening collection for your mother’s designs is next week,” Nicole said to Violet’s left.
Violet reached across the table for a bowl of mixed vegetables to add onto her plate. She didn’t respond to Nicole because she hadn’t asked her a question, but instead, she had stated the obvious.
“We decided on what we’re wearing,” Amelia put in.
Nodding, Violet continued filling her plate. Scrapes of utensils echoed in the dining room, along with murmurs from several voices. It was common for her father to have large dinners, and to open his doors to his closest men and their families. Most times, these dinners happened last minute, and Violet would receive a simple text, telling her a time to show up.
Today had been the exception.
Her father sent a car.
Clearly, Alberto was still a little pissed off.
Her stunt, nearly two weeks before, with the club in Coney Island was not being overlooked.
Each time she had tried to sit down and talk to him since it happened, he hadn’t seemed to have a word to say back to her.
Actually, he mostly ignored her.
“Okay, what gives?” Nicole asked.
Violet’s fork, filled with a cut of prime steak, froze midway to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”
Amelia sighed to Violet’s right. “You’ve been quiet since we got here. You can’t be that pissed off at us, Violet. We didn’t do anything that you didn’t do.”
Violet was still confused as hell. “Again, what?”
“Telling our dads what happened,” Nicole supplied.
Ah.
Violet shrugged. “I’m not angry.”
“Then why aren’t you talking?” Amelia asked.
“Because I don’t care about my mother’s reveal for her upcoming collection or what anyone wears to it,” Violet said.
Yeah, maybe she was a little pissed at her friends, if she thought about it. She understood her father when he explained that she was the one responsible for her friends when they went out because of who she was, but her friends knew better.
And she didn’t feel like pretending that they were innocent.
“Wow,” Nicole muttered.
Violet frowned, feeling just a little bit guilty. Maybe the girls hadn’t done anything that she wouldn’t have done if put in their position. And they’d been her friends—since forever.
“There’s a shop on Sixteenth Street,” Violet said, deciding she didn’t want to play the bitchy game with the girls. “Ma mentioned it. Anything she says is good has to be gold, right? Maybe I’ll head over there and check it out, see what I can find.”
The thought of sitting through another one of her mother’s collection reveals was almost revolting, but Violet didn’t have much of a choice. Her friends weren’t the first to bring it up.
Alberto was.
And since Violet needed to get back in her father’s good graces, she would do whatever he wanted. Including spending a day at a place she hated, doing something that bored the shit out of her.
“Want us to come?” Nicole asked.
Even Amelia looked happy at the prospect.
Violet, on the other hand, figured she could probably handle picking out a dress on her own. “Next time? I have a busy week with school, and I’m just going to fit it in sometime in between that.”
“If you’re sure,” Amelia said.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
Thankfully, her friends dropped the topic. Violet’s week was actually panning out to be pretty slow. She had some catch-up work to do for the classes she was failing, but that was it. If she could at least get her grade point average just beyond the failing mark, her father wouldn’t have such a fit.
That’s all she wanted to focus on right now.
Keeping her father happy.
“Of course you wait until the last minute to find a gift.”
Kaz didn’t bother to dignify that remark with a comment, knowing that his brother would only give him shit, no matter what he said. “I had shit to do.”
He didn’t bother to mention he knew fuck-all about women’s clothing. Sure, he could appreciate a woman in a figure-hugging dress—more so, if he were the one to take it off her—but actively going in search for women’s apparel, especially since it was for his younger sisters … well, he was a bit over his head.
He’d been up early that morning, handling business down at the docks, making sure shipments were coming in on time and the right people were compensated for their time. Afterward, he’d made his way out of Little Odessa into the city, heading toward the boutique his sisters favored. He called Ruslan along the way to make sure he knew that after he finished there, he would be on his way to pick him up.
Last week, he had called, letting him know that he’d talked to Vasily, and that he was welcome to attend the party. Kaz hadn’t bothered to mention the way he had went about it. Then, Ruslan had seemed to accept him at his word, but now that it was the day of, he had felt the need to call and check in.
“He might have agreed,” Ruslan said over the line, “but he’s never been one to hold back how he feels.”
Kaz was silent for a moment, concentrating on the traffic in front of him. The street was packed tight with cars, making it hard to find a parking spot, and it was only worse for Kaz because his car drew more attention and made people stop and stare. Eventually, after circling around, he found a spot a couple blocks up. Swinging in smoothly, he cut the engine and pulled on a pair of sunglasses before climbing out, and heading down the street.
“Don’t worry about Vasily,” Kaz said. “He won’t make a scene, not in front of the twins.”
If there was one thing to be said about Vasily, he cared about his image. While in the privacy of his own home, he was prone to violent outbursts and making sure his thoughts were clear in blatant, brutal honesty, but he was always quite careful when there were others around. At the twins’ party, friends from their school, along with a number of their own associates would be in attendance. Vasily had always presented the idea that they were the perfect family. He wasn’t going to fuck that up.
No matter if Ruslan showed …
Even in a city as densely packed as Brooklyn, where celebrities, tourists, and the common person all mingled, Kaz stood out. It might have been his height—six feet, three inches—or the way he presented himself, but people tended to give him a wide berth as he walked, stepping out of his path before he’d even had the chance to get close.
Worked for him.
“Maybe so, but do you remember the last time we were in the same room together?” Ruslan asked.
How could Kaz forget?
There was always a tension when the two Markovic boys were in the presence of their father, if for different reasons. While Vasily would act annoyed by Kaz’s antics, he completely ignored Ruslan, going so far as shunning him when he dared speak to the man. Ruslan never voiced his feelings on the matter, not to anyone, and certainly not to Vasily, but Kaz knew his brother.
“You trust me, no?” Kaz tried another tactic, wanting to calm his brother’s doubts. “Everything will be fine. And before I forget, what happened with the girl? The one you took home?”
Kaz had already told him about the Gallucci girl, though he did refrain from telling him about the conversation they had in the car—that felt private in a way. He had mentioned Vasily’s anger about it, and the ensuing warning he’d received later.
“Was no problem,” Ruslan responded, probably with a wave of his hand as that was what he usually did. “Had to practically carry the broad inside, but she was fine when I left her.”
About what he’d expected.
The boutique at the end of the corner, La Fleur as was the name written in gilded ink on the door, was charming in its simplicity. Fresh tulips, even in this weather, rested in a metal container hanging on either side of the entryway. With a sharp twist of his hand, he had the door open and was stepping inside as a gust of wind blew in behind him.
All eyes turned in his direction, a few even gawking in open admiration. He took a moment, clocking in every person inside the place—mostly women, though there was a man in the corner looking terribly bored with one hand on a massive stroller in front of him—before he removed his sunglasses.
He hardly spared anyone a glance as he headed toward the back wall where dresses hung in an assortment of colors. While he wasn’t quite sure what he was getting just yet, he knew at the very least that he had to pick two very different items. Though Nika and Dina were twins and had a habit of finishing each other’s sentences, their styles were polar opposites.
“What the fuck were they doing on our side anyway?” Ruslan asked with an edge to his voice. None of the Markovics were very trusting of any Gallucci. “They know the rules.”
Kaz had wanted to believe that it was done on purpose, a blatant display of disrespect, but if Alberto had wanted to send that kind of message, he would have sent one of his soldiers, not the daughter he loved more than anything. And after the short time he’d spent in Violet’s presence, Kaz doubted it had been anything more than happenstance.
“Sonder’s fairly new, not many know that it’s yours.”
“And you believe that?” Derisiveness had crept into Ruslan’s tone.
What choice did he have? “Doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again. I’m sure of that.”
Kaz had only been browsing for a short time, shaking his head at some of the choices, knowing that they would be too revealing for two almost-sixteen-year-old girls, when the door was opened again. He couldn’t say what made him turn to look—simple curiosity or just a need to be precautious—but when he did and caught sight of Violet hurrying in, pushing curling blonde strands back out of her face, he was almost glad he did.
What were the odds?
Once could be considered a coincidence, but twice? In a city this size? It was almost like the universe was laughing at him.
She didn’t notice him immediately, and unlike him, she seemed to be on a mission, heading for another rack of dresses some distance away. Unlike the last time he’d seen her when she was slightly drunk and teetering on too high heels, today she was perfectly put together.
As the daughter of a Gallucci should be.
He was surprised, expecting to see a guard of some sort come in behind her—or at the very least, be able to see one through the windows waiting for her outside—but there was no one. She was alone.
Kaz would have expected Alberto to be a little more responsible than that … but it wasn’t his business.
His father’s warning rang in his head, he could even hear the way the man’s voice would lower an octave as he told him exactly what not to do, and Kaz could have heeded it. He could have ignored her, stayed where he was and finished perusing the selections. Or even left and came back another time—as his father probably would have wanted him to do—but where was the fun in that?
“Rus, I’ll see you in an hour.”
Kaz didn’t wait for a response, hanging up before his brother could get another word in, tucking his phone away. Undoubtedly, he would be hearing about that later, but for the time being, he put it out of his mind.
Abandoning his current selections, Kaz headed directly for her, not hesitating in the slightest. There was a moment, right before he was in her space, right before she could turn and see him approaching, that he could have walked away. No one would know he had almost approached her—that would’ve just been his little secret—but for reasons he wasn’t yet ready to consider, he didn’t stop himself.
She was too busy eyeing a red number to notice that he was behind her.
“Which do you prefer?” Kaz asked.
Violet jumped, spinning around to face him, eyes gone wide as though she couldn’t believe he was standing there. Her gaze skirted past him, looking around as though she were expecting someone else to walk up behind him.
“Just me,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “Or were you expecting someone else?”
She seemed flustered for a second and he wondered whether she would continue to speak with him, or if she would run away as she probably should. At the very least, she would wonder what his intentions were, but even he didn’t have an answer to that.
Schooling her expression, she stood a little straighter, brushing her hair over her shoulder. Ah, and there it was, the steely backbone of a woman who knew she had nothing to fear.
How very wrong she was …
“What?”
“What was it about what I said that was unclear?” he asked, waiting to see the fire in her eyes—she didn’t disappoint.
“You asked which do I prefer. Of what?”
He gestured with a lift of his finger to the store around him. “All of it.”
Violet’s eyes drifted over him from head to toe, unabashed in her study of him. Anyone else might have been uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but he stood his ground. “I doubt you’ll find something in your size.”
“Fair enough, but it wouldn’t be for me. It’s a gift.”
Her lips turned down as a coldness seemed to wash over her. “Oh?”
He nodded. “Two, in fact.”
Kaz could tell from her expression that she thought the gifts would be for women in his life, girlfriends maybe, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t offered that impression. He’d wanted to see her reaction to that … and it looked like Violet wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be.
“I’m sure someone that works here would be willing to help you.”
The subtle edge to her voice made him smile. “Undoubtedly, but I suspect you have a far better fashion sense than the lot of them, considering who your mother is.”
At the reminder that he knew more about her than she probably knew about him, she took a step back, her gaze darting to the entrance. “I should go.”
She’d only taken a step before he was calling out to her. He should have let her leave, it would have been the right thing to do, but he wasn’t ready to walk away yet.
“My sisters. They turned sixteen today.” That information wouldn’t be hard to find out should she have asked anyone else, so he didn’t find it imperative to keep it a secret. “They asked for something from here, but as you can see, I’m ill-equipped to pick something out for them.”
“I’m not sixteen,” she returned with a lift of her brow.
“No,” Kaz said, his lips curling up in one corner. “You’re definitely not that, but you were once.”
Now it was his turn to drink her in. She wasn’t wearing a dress that conformed to her curves like that night, but she was wearing skinny jeans that molded to shapely legs, and a cream-colored blouse that dipped in the middle to reveal a tantalizing view of her breasts. Even though it was her, or maybe even because it was her, Kaz felt a stirring of lust.
“Fine. Have you anything to go on? Did they say what they wanted?”
“Lady’s choice.”
Violet chewed on her lip for a moment, like she was contemplating whether to go through with this. After all, she would be actively engaging with him as opposed to it being forced on her.
Ultimately, she agreed, nodding once, just the slightest tilt to her head, before she was moving quickly through the racks. Though, she did keep a sizable distance between them. After asking for their sizes—he’d had to check his phone for an answer—she was silent as she picked up an assortment of dresses, skirts, blouses, putting some back, eyeing others, and those she deemed worthy, she handed to him.
By the time she finished, they had gone through nearly every garment in the place and his arms were laden with items. Even Kaz, whose wardrobe was arguably large, was a bit surprised by how much she had chosen.
“This is a bit much, no?”
To that, she gave him a sparkling, if not sarcastic, smile and waved his words away. “A girl only turns sixteen once, right?”
While he took his items to the register, setting them on the counter and picking out a number of gift boxes that were complementary with any purchase, Kaz looked back to where Violet had disappeared to. She was still looking at the red dress from earlier, but now she was comparing it to another that wasn’t nearly as nice.
“Sir? We can have someone bring your purchases to your car, if you would like,” the sales associate offered politely, drawing his attention back to her.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
When it was all rang up and carefully placed in boxes, Kaz paid, gesturing for the man that was now carrying them to follow behind. Before leaving, however, he stopped at the last moment and went back over to Violet. And this time, she was all too aware of his presence as she turned before he even got close.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” she asked, almost like she was wary that his answer might be yes.
He gestured to the dresses she held. “The red one, I like it.”
Violet looked down, almost like she was surprised to find the dresses there, or maybe surprised that he had noticed in the first place. She sounded almost wistful as she said, “Yeah, I like it too.” Even as she said the words, however, she hung it back up. “But no one can look better than my mother at her own event.”
That might have been the stupidest shit he had ever heard, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Without thinking, he took a step closer, taking her hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, brushing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“You can’t help that though, can you?”
Her lips parted, her gaze shooting up to his own. It was there, if only for a moment, the naked desire she couldn’t quite hide. Maybe he was playing with fire, but for once, he didn’t care.
“Spasibo—thank you,” he said finally releasing her. “For everything.”
He left her there, going back out to his car, tipping the man as he carefully arranged the gifts in his passenger seat. Ultimately, they would have to be moved once he picked up Ruslan, but he didn’t think about that for the time being.
His thoughts were on Violet and the way her skin felt against his own.