The Arrangement (27 page)

Ouch
. Something painful sliced into her heart with wrecking force.

“It’s Vine. To you, whoever the fuck you are, it’s just Vine.”

“We’d have been a much better match. Powerful, too. He knew it when he was seventeen, but someone didn’t quite agree. Nearly had him,” she repeated a little more vehemently. “Anton didn’t want some pretty Italian pussy waking him up in the mornings and sucking his cock at night. No, he wanted a
Russian
girl. Someone who spoke his mother tongue and bled the blood of the Bratva. Of course, he didn’t know about you, then … not really.”

Viviana felt her lips quirk into a condescending smirk. “Yet look who he chose, hmm?”

There was a brief silence before Tatiana chirped out a high laugh.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

There wasn’t a thing about their conversation—if you could call it that—that was funny.

“You don’t know?”

Viviana exhaled through her nose, turning on her heel to stare with open hatred. “What are you going on about?”

“
You don’t know
!”

“Again, what—”

“I didn’t believe it, you know? When my father told me why the marriage had been arranged all those years ago, I just couldn’t believe it. Such a stupid mistake for a woman of your mother’s status to make, and with a Russian mob boss no less. She was lucky her husband didn’t put a bullet through her fucking brain. And Anton … my God, he loved Nicoli so much it wasn’t such a big shock to see him following along with whatever plans he made. But I was so sure you would have known … I thought they must have told you …”

Viviana’s heart was pounding, blood rushing her ears. Nothing the woman said made much sense, but that dreadful feeling was back with a vengeance, eating away what patience and rationale she had left.

“Oh my God,” Tatiana said again though her tinkling bouts of sardonic laughter. “It makes so much sense, now. It isn’t any wonder why you think he loves you. How could you possibly think any different, you stupid, ridiculous girl? You don’t even know
why
he’s marrying you.”

Yeah, all of the patience and calm she had remaining left her body in one fell swoop. Viviana turned to grab her own clutch off the bar top before making her move to leave. Tatiana’s painful grip to her wrist stopped the desire up short.

A harsh exhale shuddered from Viviana’s lungs as she stared at the hand on her body. “Remove your goddamn hand before I cut it off, Tatiana.”

“You really don’t know …”

Something a little softer had colored the woman’s tone, like she may have felt badly. Viviana wasn’t having it.

“I said—”

Tatiana’s fingers squeezed harder, her nails cutting into Viviana’s skin with enough force to make her bleed, but she refused to flinch or show proof of the pain the woman was causing her. For a split second, her brown eyes met steel-blue, a fire raging behind both women’s orbs as they openly glared.

Pretty, yes, it was no wonder Tatiana caught Anton’s eye. She might have had the looks, money, and father to back her up, but so did Viviana, and not once did she feel the least bit frightened or unworthy standing next to the man she wanted to marry.

“
Let me go
.”

“Jersey Girl … hey!”

Oh, for fuck sakes. She was from Jersey? Viviana never had any luck making friends from Jersey. No wonder they were like oil and water … or better yet, gasoline and fire.

Boom
.

Jen’s cheery voice, though Viviana was sure she heard the tension hidden in there as well, had Tatiana letting her death grip go. “You shouldn’t be here, chica. You know what the boss said the last time you swayed your pretty ass up in here.”

“Jen.” A radiant smile curved her red lips, but it wasn’t meant to be sweet. “Daddy came to wish Anton a happy birthday, and insisted I come along to meet the soon-to-be wife. We were just getting acquainted, right, Viviana?”

“It’s Vine,” Viviana spat.

Jen sucked air through her teeth, scowling. “Okay, so Sergei was your ticket in, and I’m your cue to get gone. If Anton sees you in here, he’ll have a righteous fit. It’s his birthday; you really want to ruin this party they threw for him by being a jealous bitch again?”

“Ouch,” Tatiana said, pouting with wide eyes. “And I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, like a snake with a mouse, honey. Now, out.”

Viviana assumed Jen had the situation handled, so she chose that moment to make herself scarce without bashing the blonde’s teeth in. Once again, Tatiana wasn’t having it because her fingers curled into the side of Viviana’s black dress and pulled roughly to stop her from leaving.

She’d taken just about all she could. Viviana swung around and hit the arm holding her with an opened palm, smacking it away from her frame with a painful slap. Jen made a noise behind the bar and jogged to the partition where she could get out from behind the space keeping her confined.

“If you touch me one more time, I will ruin your face.”

Tatiana not only looked surprised, but just a tad bit frightened as well. It was an honest threat, and one Viviana wasn’t afraid to carry out. The warning in her tone said it all. Tatiana wouldn’t be the first woman she laid out, and she probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

“Let’s be clear on this. Our fathers might be bad fucking men, but I bet there was one hell of a difference between mine and yours. You’re nothing more than a Bratva child. I’m a
principessa
of
La Cosa Nostra
and he raised me like one, too. He didn’t keep me coveted on a shelf and hiding in the dark. No, I was taught how to bat my lashes at the same time I learned how to wield a knife.”

Viviana took a measured step forward, making Tatiana draw back closer to the bar. “And did you know,
Jersey
… just a single slice on your pretty thigh at the right spot, depth, and length would have you bleeding out to the floor before anyone even had the time, thought, or care to call an ambulance? Because I sure do.”

“You would—”

“You’re not in Jersey anymore, honey,” Jen said quietly, her voice threatening. She’d come to stand behind Viviana, blocking the view of anyone behind them. “You’re in Brighton Beach. This is Anton’s territory, and this pretty thing here, she’s the only thing he gives a shit about now. She’s got one hell of a man backing her up, unlike you. My one and only suggestion is that you get off that barstool and leave, right now.”

Viviana tilted her head upwards, looking down on the blonde with revulsion when she murmured, “Don’t come back here, Tatiana. If you do, I won’t be so forgiving. And for the record, if you’re going to insult me, the least you could do is get it right.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not the Russian whore, it’s the
Russian’s
whore.”

That snide smile crossed the woman’s red lips once more. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,
Brooklyn
. I said it right, you just haven’t figured it out yet.”

• • •

A finger tapped on Anton’s shoulder forcefully.

“Boss, we gotta problem. A
big
one.”

Anton tried to ignore Rory’s voice behind him as he continued to chat with Sergei. It wasn’t that he liked the man or wanted to converse with him because in all honesty, he didn’t, but a Pakhan was a Pakhan in the Bratva world and Anton had to be appropriately respectful or it’d lead to nowhere good.

“
Boss
.”

The word was all but hissed.

“Rory, shut up,” Anton warned quietly, not even glancing back, “and go find my girl.”

“You’re already shipping from Africa,” Sergei muttered, dropping his glass down to the table. “Diamonds aren’t any different, boy.”

Anton fought the urge to roll his eyes before he banged his head on the table repeatedly. It didn’t matter how many times the discussion was had, no one got the point. There were some things Anton simply didn’t want to put his hands into. Human trafficking was one, for obvious and moral reasons, and diamonds was another route he didn’t want to take.

Personally, he did pretty fucking good with his guns and narcotics in the trafficking department. A lot of the time, it kept him under a lower profile because he wasn’t so big of a fish on the fed’s lists.

“Boss,” Rory whispered again.

Anton sighed. “I said—”

“Diamonds,” Sergei repeated, tossing his arm over the back of the booth. “You’ve got good contacts over there, much better than I … we could work it out together, Anton. Nicoli would have been the first to jump on that ship.”

No, he wouldn’t have. There was a reason he wanted to stay away, after all. Anton wasn’t about to correct him.

“Okay, listen …” he said, leaning forward to grab the beer one of his waitresses had brought over, “I promised my girl no business tonight. I want to make good on that, so Monday I’ll get Ivan to set something up with just you and me. Neutral spots, no toes are being stomped on, and I get to go home tonight in lots of time to still save this evening from turning into a total shitfest. Sound like a plan?”

“But—”

“
Boss
!”

“Don’t your boys know when to back the fuck off?” Sergei growled, glaring up at the bull behind Anton. “Because that one needs a swift kick in the tee—”

“No, he doesn’t,” Anton interrupted darkly. “He just doesn’t answer to you. Now, I have to get going. Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to remind your daughter that she still isn’t welcomed anywhere near Brighton Beach.”

The sound that left Rory had Anton’s spine straightening. He tried like hell not to react to the younger man, but it was damned near impossible. With a tick of his chin, his lover’s bull was down near his shoulder, words whispering fast into his ear.

“Tatiana is
here
, Boss, and Vine went straight-up Brooklyn on her. I mean, girl spoke about slicing and dicing like she knew what she was saying, okay? Tati said some stuff, and I don’t really know because I didn’t get to her in time, but Jen said it wasn’t anything all too good. Something about her mom and you and the arrangement. Anyway, Viviana’s in the bathroom taking a breather, but the blonde is in the back alley having a smoke with Felix. So, your choice. Pick one.”

Oh, for fuck sakes. Anton couldn’t even hide his cringe.

Tatiana was something casual. It happened when he was seventeen and pissed off about being forced into a marriage that he was positive just wouldn’t work. Then, he reconnected with Viviana and all of the stunts he’d been pulling and the nonsense he was going on with just quit. She had literally been his turning point, like finding his soul all over again.

Yeah, he’d messed around with the Jersey girl a few times in his early twenties at different clubs under random circumstances. It wasn’t like either of them had actively searched one another out, or maybe she had for him … Either way, he was sure she understood that they weren’t rolling together like that. A quick fuck or Tati on her knees blowing him off was just about as far as it went. Nicoli had warned him, though. Anton should have listened when his step-grandfather said she was no good … just a spoiled boss’s daughter who wanted the title with her money.

Fuck, he should have
listened
.

Anton clicked his tongue chidingly at Sergei. “You brought your daughter along.”

At least the man had the decency to look ashamed. “She assured me your … issues … had been resolved.”

“Far from it,” Anton spat. “The bitch tried to burn down my club the last time she was here because I wouldn’t let her suck my dick. Quite the child you raised,
Boss
.”

That probably wasn’t the best choice in words, but Anton was a little too pissed off to calm down. What in the hell had Tatiana said exactly? His mind ran with all the worst possible scenarios he could think of, and all of them collided with the same conclusion: the truth. Of course she would have known, her father did, after all.

“Mind your tongue, prince,” Sergei warned.

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes and Anton felt the heat flare through his blood in response. Ivan, who sat quietly beside him, coughed to draw their attention away and defuse the situation, but neither man moved his gaze from the other.

“That girl of yours,” the older Pakhan continued, sneering a grim smile. “She must have a hell of a lot of Italian in her, doesn’t she?”

Anton spoke through clenched teeth. “You know she’s only half.”

“Given what we both know her mother did, aren’t you the least bit afraid she’s going to do the same to you?”

Air sliced into Anton’s lungs like a hot knife through butter. It literally fucking ached.

“No, I’m—”

“Raised by a
byladina
, Anton. Your pretty little wife might just turn into her mother the first time you find yourself behind steel bars. After all, you’ve managed to keep yourself from doing any real hard time so far, but how long is that going to last? Every one of us does our time eventually, my boy. Will you come home to find her knocked up with your Sovietnik’s child?”

“Fuck you,” Ivan snapped beside Anton, speaking totally out of place but his boss wouldn’t correct him.

“Or maybe she’ll run to another boss like her mother did.”

Byladina
was by far one of the most offensive terms in Russian for the English equivalent of slut. It was regarded as an even worse title in their language, to be sure. Women who were worth less than even the stale air that left their lungs were graced with that insult. Never had Anton used it in his life. For Sergei to even remotely consider letting that word roll out of his mouth and compare Viviana to it was just about the worst thing he could have done, especially in Anton’s presence.

There was no way for his bulls, or Ivan, to stop the fast movement of Anton’s fist reaching over the table. Clenched knuckles slammed into an unsuspecting face, crushing the bones of the other Pakhan’s nose on impact.

Anton packed one hell of a punch.

It carried a heavy price, and he knew it.

He did it, anyway.

The knuckle in his pinkie popped out of joint, but he drew back his fist again and landed another solid hit. When his fists grabbed at the broken man’s collar, blood was already pouring. His knuckles were cut up but the pain didn’t even register. He could hear the shouts of both languages beginning to rise around him, but his fury was swelling by the second. Russian spit from his mouth like poison when he was in Sergei’s face.