The Arrangement (25 page)

“That,” Anton echoed.

Her mouth ghosted over his cheek, searching out his as the air turned a little thicker, a little damper. Bright eyes with darkened, widened pupils met his own as her forehead pressed down to his and lips curled back with another low whine. The desperate expression taking over her features was the most beautiful sight.

“You got this, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said all airless but still full. “I got this.”

“
Oh
. Look at you, grinning like a goddamn fool,” Ivan said, grabbing the back of Anton’s neck with a tight grip to pull the younger man forward. Their foreheads met, both men smiling as his lawyer sighed. “Forty-five minutes late to your own birthday party. I think that’s a new record. Be extra nice tonight to the older ones, yeah? They were in a right fit about your tardiness.”

“You told me to be late,” Anton muttered when Ivan released him. “And besides, I had things to do.”

“Oh yeah? Things, someone, same difference.”

“No,
things
.” Another disbelieving look crossed Ivan’s face before Anton chuckled. “Fine, asshole. That, too.”

Ivan’s finger ticked up under the boss’s chin as he regarded him with a cocked brow. “I called Rory, just to make sure everything was good at eight and guess what he told me? Not that it matters,” he said quickly with a sly smirk. “Because I can smell the smoke on your jacket and see it in your eyes.
Zhopa
. I’ve been asking him for months to give me some of that bud. Boss gets all nasty for a moment and he hands it right over like a scared boy.”

Anton glanced over Ivan’s shoulder, watching as the bull in question leaned over the bar to greet Jen. But, his bartender wasn’t having it, ignoring the man’s advances but offering him a wink instead. Viviana, on the other hand, was given a hug over the bar top, her chin picked up in Jen’s hand as she forced her to look in her eyes. Both women laughed. When Jen spotted Viviana’s new engagement ring, it was hard not to notice how fifteen other gazes turned to watch as the jewelry was appraised and shown off.

“
Zaebis’
. Can’t keep your eyes off of her for more than a minute, can you?” Ivan asked, shaking his head.

“No. No, I really can’t.”

Damn, he wasn’t even ashamed to admit it.

“You’ve had her at your side all day, Anton!”

A flippant, lazy shrug fell from his shoulders. His mind was still running high with a sizzling buzz while his body, blood, and heart were still singing with an awe-worthy tune. He was outright fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally. Even so, he was nearly revving and ready to go all over again, already wanting to take her back to the safe house and get her between soft sheets.

Only his girl could do that to him like she did. Only her.

Anton had kept his word to Viviana after all when it came to her first time trying anal. It only hurt a short time, and then she calmed, her body adjusted, and with her bottom lip caught between his teeth, fingers weaved with his, and her name in his mouth, she broke in the most beautiful way. They took their time cleaning up, getting dressed, and then making their way to the club.

Now, he just wanted to simply
watch
her.

His birthday. His party. His people.

Anton didn’t give a shit. All he wanted was Viviana.

He watched the seven spotlights that worked on a mechanical system above do their slow crawl over the club’s floor. White light pooled at her feet where she stood still chatting animatedly to Jen. The crystals embedded in her heels reflected colored prisms up the backs of her legs and she leaned a little farther in to hear what the other woman was saying. That only served to drive her tight-as-fuck dress higher around the curves of slightly swaying hips.

Oh God, she was so beautiful it hurt. Even though her makeup was all but gone from the rain, even with her hair mussed from his hands and the damp weather, and even in a club’s darkness, she was
beautiful
. From his spot in the corner, Anton had the perfect line of vision for her profile. High cheekbones, a straight-edge, tiny nose, pink lips with the top a little bit fuller than the bottom, and almond-shaped eyes pooled with a deep, chocolate brown. The plains of her face fit so well in the hold of his hands, too.

“I’m …”

Ivan’s brow furrowed at Anton’s loss of words. It wasn’t often he was rendered speechless, and given his status, he nearly always had to be saying something. And usually it had to be important. Anton’s best friend clapped his shoulder and his hand squeezed gently.

“You’re what, man?”

Anton swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “I’m so fucking in love with that girl.”

A cough covered the fleeting surprise in Ivan’s eyes. Anton had made the admission with the company of several other Bratva brothers close by. He’d said it without care, open and bared. It didn’t even matter because it was so damned true it hurt. Sometimes it wasn’t safe to admit where your heart and feelings lay, no matter who you were. Anton couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, just … crazy in love, Ivan. I’m not even here right now, not in my heart. I’m over there.”

“You smoked too much, clearly. You always said you loved her.”

Anton nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the slight tremble that rocked them. “I know, but I was remembering a different girl at a different time, you know? This girl … God, she’s
mine
. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s … okay, Anton. More than, even. It’s great, especially for you. People grow up and shit changes, so you and she might not have clicked again like you did the first time. It just so happened that you two grew at the same pace again, even separated like you were. Maybe old Nicoli had seen something no one else did when you were four and she was two. God knows that fool had a knack for picking out gold in dirt and he did it more than once.”

“Did he ever tell you it was me who called her Vine first?” Anton asked quietly, blue eyes flitting up to stare at Viviana again.

“No, he didn’t.”

Anton sighed heavily, forcing himself to look at his friend.

“Yeah. When I asked about her name nine years ago, she told me the nickname came from her brother. Her
brother
, Ivan. They told her
he
couldn’t say it properly. They didn’t tell her it was really me. I couldn’t speak a word of English when I was four, and I guess when they told me her name, I couldn’t get it to roll off my tongue right. So Vine it was.

“Nicoli said she pointed at her chest,” Anton said, voice turning into a whisper as his hand raised to his own chest and fingers splayed wide open. “Right where her little heart beat and repeated it, just like that. It stuck her whole life. I gave her that name. I fucking marked that girl as mine when she was just two years old in my own way. She’s always been mine.”

Ivan cleared his throat, his foot tapping a nervous beat to the floor before he asked, “What’s bothering you right now. I mean, this is a good thing, yeah?”

“Yeah, so good. Spending the rest of my life with her seems like the most natural thing next to breathing. It’s absolutely fucking terrifying to hand that feeling over like it’s nothing. Loving her every day; watching her live; holding her hand when she gives me children; weaving together through this life … I want that so badly and it would be the easiest thing to do because she’s already got my goddamn heart and soul right there in her hands. No one has ever had that from me.”

“But?”

But his heart was aching and his soul was ripping. Strings were pulled taut as something plucked a painful rhythm to the beats. Anton felt guilty as fuck. Shame was eating him alive and he never felt like that about anything he’d ever done before. He didn’t have the right to share those feelings and have those profound expectations for her and him if she didn’t
know
what he did.

“I have to tell her, Ivan. I
need
to.”

“Shit.”

Apparently his friend had decided their conversation was no longer appropriate to be had in the presence of others, because Ivan cussed harshly again before looking over his shoulder. With a jerk of his head, both men slipped through an employee only door that led to the kitchen. The club didn’t offer a huge variety of items on the menu when it was open, but it made a few easy things and there was a cook who worked only in the daytime for Anton and his business associates.

“Out,” Anton snapped at the chef who peeked up over the metal stove. “Now.”

“Uh … kind of busy—”

“Get the fuck out,” Ivan hissed.

The man rolled his eyes before turning a burner off and taking his sweet time wiping his hands on a hanging towel. When he was finally gone from the kitchen, Anton snapped the lock on the swinging door, effectively preventing anyone from coming inside before locking the other swinging door as well.

“I know you’re rolling right now,” Ivan said quietly. “It’s not like you roll often and when you do, you get all thoughtful and whatnot. So, is this your heart talking or the boss talking? Because it’s important for me to know the difference and right now, Anton, I can’t tell.”

“Maybe both.”

“What do you need from me? Tell me what you need from me. I can’t do this if you don’t.”

Anton chewed on the inside of his cheek, refusing to meet the other man’s stare. It was times like this when he was glad Nicoli had given him the insight he had before his unexpected death. His step-grandfather could have just as well let Anton slip and stumble through finding the right Sovietnik to guide him, to be his partner and friend, but instead, Ivan had all but been placed at his feet.

Sure, Ivan was five years older with a wife he loved and two little girls, and another on the way, who were his whole world … the men were leaps and bounds apart from each other in the world at times. But when it counted—when it
really
fucking counted—Ivan just knew Anton. He knew what to say or what to do, he knew how to ask or when to back off. They were brothers beyond the Bratva, beyond the titles, and beyond DNA. They just were.

They were one hell of a pair. Unstoppable when they wanted something. Anton and Ivan respectively held the two highest titles in their organization and some thought it wouldn’t be a good match, but they were fucking brilliant together. It was yet another one of Nicoli’s gold in the dirt findings.

“Fuck … just be my friend, okay?”

Ivan made a noise under his breath. “I don’t think I can. Not if we’re talking about what I think we’re talking about. I have to be yours and Nicoli’s lawyer. I have to be the Sovietnik. You have to be Boss. You know this. I have his wishes to carry out just like you do, Anton!”

“We are talking about that, and I know where your mind is going,” Anton murmured, swallowing hard and finally looking up. “If this was Eva, wouldn’t you want to tell her the truth?”

“Don’t bring my wife into this. It’s not the same. You gave him your word.”

“He’s dead. They’re all dead!”

“Lower your voice, man,” Ivan snapped, shooting a fleeting look at the doors. “Tell me why this is coming up now.”

Anton gave himself a moment to breathe, flexing his fingers into fists and cracking his knuckles before he felt able to speak. “This doesn’t make a difference to the will. The money Nicoli left for her isn’t mine to touch, and the prenuptial agreement keeps it safe. She’ll always be taken care of in that regard. It doesn’t hurt the brotherhood. If anything, the ones that know respect her more because of who she is and the rest would think the same. It won’t affect Nicoli because he’s gone, and her mother, may she rest in peace, no longer needs to be protected from the secret getting out. Roman is six feet underground and Sonny is a breath away from losing his life. Who does this really hurt, Ivan?”

“Viviana,” Ivan whispered, almost pleadingly. “You know that. It would hurt her.”

“I know. I
know
it would, but I think … I think she deserves to know. Vine could see from the start that we were hiding something and she asked. She
asked
, okay? I told him if she found out, I would tell her, and I said that never would I tell her directly before she figured it all out, but I also told him—”

“That you wouldn’t lie if she asked,” Ivan interjected. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I don’t want to lie to her anymore. I never want her to find out that I kept on lying when I could have told her the truth. She talked about Roman today, and I could hear it in her voice—she loved that man. I just … shit, why can’t she have the chance to love the one she didn’t know, too?”

“Anton—”

“I love this girl, Ivan.
Love
her more than anything. She makes my heart beat like nobody else. I can’t keep doing this.”

Ivan blinked up at the ceiling before he asked, “So what are you going to do?”

“Tell her. Put it all out there. Let her choose what she wants. I’ll protect her no matter what. I’m going to love her until the day I die, and it won’t make a difference if she chooses me or not because she owns me regardless of the rest.”

“Okay.” And just like that, Ivan seemed to understand Anton like he always had. Crossing the short distance, the older man offered opened arms and Anton took the embrace with a quiet sigh. “Happy birthday, huh?”

“It’s been a great fucking day, actually.”

“Because of her?”

“Always,” Anton confessed. When Ivan pulled away with a sentimental looking smile, he offered a shrug as his only explanation. “She makes everything so much better. Managed to keep my mind off Daniil, not to mention the bullshit going on with the Italians.”

“And you want to risk giving that up just so she’ll know a truth that’s never really affected her before?”

“Hasn’t it? An arranged marriage. Lost out on a culture and history she might have loved. Never knew her fath—”

“She had Roman.”

“She had a
dad
,” Anton stressed. “She didn’t know her
father
. There’s a difference and she missed out on a great man because of it.”

“That was how he wanted it.”

Anton refused to accept that. He never would. Good men didn’t work that way.