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 …