the version of him she’d been chatting with all morning, either.
“You wouldn’t,” Violet said.
Ruslan smiled, cold and fleeting. “You have no idea. Now, you have one round left in your gun. I’d like for you to fire it.”
Violet, somehow in her fear, managed to sneer. “Afraid I might turn it on you?”
“You’d be dead before you blinked. Do as I said. Try for that kill shot this time.”
Ignoring the shake in her breath and the slight tremor in her hands, Violet didn’t see how she had much of a choice but to do what Ruslan wanted, given his gun was still cocked and pointed at her head. So she did what he wanted.
And when she aimed …
Her breaths came slower.
Her hands steadied.
Gaze zoned in …
She didn’t even feel the kickback that final time.
Ruslan looked to the side just as the bullet ripped through the chest of the paper human down the way. Silently, he lowered his gun, hitting the button on the side to release the clip.
It fell out on the table, empty.
“You don’t know me very well,” Ruslan said, never looking back at Violet, “but if you did, you’d know everything I said was a lie. I can’t stand my father, and I like him a great deal more when he’s gone, but I think I would love him if he were dead. As for Kaz—well, love is never selfish, Violet, no matter its form.”
Violet just stared at Ruslan, more unsure than she had ever been in her life.
“Seems fear works in your favor, though,” he continued. “You would have hit your target in the heart. Near instant death when it exploded in their chest. Ironic, yes?”
Though his last conversation with his mother hadn’t gone as planned, Kaz gave her a day to calm down before he returned, alone, to tell her of the wedding and details. She still wasn’t happy with him, but at least, her anger had cooled. And if he knew one thing, despite her uneasiness as to who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, Kaz knew that his mother would still attend that day.
Irina was still his mother, after all, and despite his hatred for his father, Kaz loved his mother.
His sisters, Dina and Nika, however, were fucking thrilled because a wedding meant shopping. He couldn’t even say for sure whether they were happy for him or just glad to be out of the house and happily swiping his damn card. But since they were out with Violet, that would at least give them a chance to talk to her and learn who she was.
He couldn’t ask for more than that.
Kaz, on the other hand, was working on his side of the guest list. There was not enough time to invite everyone—his family was extensive—but he needed at least a dozen key figures in attendance.
There was the Boykov family in Chicago—Konstantin having agreed quite readily and Kolya mumbling an affirmative before he hung up.
Of course, he would also invite the highest-ranking members of the Bratva, and a few others from neighboring states who he hadn’t talked to in ages due to their relationship with Vasily.
By the time he was on his way across town, Kaz had gotten all the answers he wanted … except for one.
Alfie Shelby.
Though he was notorious for playing both sides of the field, never allowing his loyalty to show for any one man, Kaz still considered the man a close friend. But in his newly appointed position, he wasn’t so sure that the way things stood now could go on for much longer.
It was different when Vasily was in the seat—he refused to do business with Alfie because of his neutral stance, but Kaz hadn’t cared. And even now, he still didn’t, but the men who worked under him wouldn’t stand for it, no matter how powerful Alfie was.
“Welcome home, Kazimir,” Alfie said from his position behind his desk. “It’s good to see you, mate.”
“You too, Alfie,” Kaz returned as he clasped the man’s hand in his own before taking a seat.
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
It shouldn’t have surprised him that Alfie knew about the wedding—there was very little that the man didn’t know. Even still, he doubted Violet had shared the news with anyone just yet, and he had only informed a select number of people, none of whom did business with Alfie.
“Who told you?”
Alfie waved his hand in the air as though the answer was insignificant. “A little dove, but that’s not important at