The Arrangement (37 page)

No shaking. No worry. Nothing.

Business as usual.

The SVD rifle was only about ten pounds of lightweight metal and wood. Nothing like the stock model, considering they usually came equipped with polymer furniture instead of the slick, blue-brushed snake skin that covered Anton’s gun. Accurate with its scopes for up to thirteen hundred meters, he only had one bullet in the cartridge to use.

Anton didn’t miss. Not once.

When he took the shot, he got it.

It didn’t matter that it was dark as tar outside, the scopes were specially designed for night use. Sonny only needed to fuck up once and he was done.

Dead man walking.

“Ready?” Anton asked gruffly, taking one last drag from his smoke before it was flicked out the opened window.

“As I’m ever going to be,” Bo said.

With the younger man settled back into his seat, Anton took care to get his frame up out of the sunroof with near silent movements and careful wrangling of the gun. When he and the weapon were sitting on top of cold metal, he noticed the wind was all but dimmed to nothing at all from the tall buildings around them, keeping it out. Cocking his foot up to the edge, he waited for another moment. The roads were silent with no cars, no people, and the surrounding buildings dark from the night. Not a soul would notice them parked where they were in the darkness.

More people left the apartment building. Anton could hear their rustling movements and murmuring voices carrying down the quiet street. As it was, he could also hear the sirens starting to screech from somewhere close by.

Time to get to work.

“Phone, Bo,” he said.

Bo handed him his cell phone. Anton readied his weapon quickly, resting it on his shoulder so when the kickback came, it was going to hit hard into that already bruised spot. No incriminating marks to find if they were already looking over a wounded canvas.

With the night vision scope attached and the sights turned on, he surveyed the green and black landscape until different colors bloomed, indicating movement. The warmth of the bodies showed in bright reds and yellows.

Anton hit the pre-set button on the phone and hit speaker.

“Where’d you get his new cell number from?” Bo wondered down below.

“The wife.”

“Ah …”

Anton hummed, but he didn’t share anything else.

Four rings later and the phone finally picked up.

“Christ, yeah …
Ciao
?”

That smooth, blackstrap voice of Anton’s carried like dripping honey into the phone. He rested the barrel of the rifle to his propped up knee and started surveying the crowd of yellow.

“Sonny, we’ve got a little problem here.”

There wasn’t a response. Not even a breath. Given Anton still had a slight Russian accent, he knew it wouldn’t be mistaken by the man on the other end as to who the caller was. There also wasn’t any change in the line of swarming bodies he was keeping a close eye on.

“Who the fuck—”

“You know who,” Anton said, his lips curving wickedly as a lit cigarette was handed to him through the window. “Let’s not play stupid.”

“The Russian scum, I assume. Did you like my gift this morning?”

“Liked it just fine,” Anton replied coolly, ignoring the obvious jibe. “Liked it even better when it fucked up something awful and didn’t blow right. I thought it’d be an obvious thing, Sonny, but I guess not.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Anton gave Sonny a moment to let the words have their confusing effect. That was the point, after all. Once more, Anton lined up his sights and gauged the crowd. There still wasn’t much change. Certain bodies had swarmed together, families and friends likely. He was looking for two bodies out of order from the rest, or at least slightly off from the others, considering Sonny wouldn’t want the phone call to be overheard.

“You know what the difference is between you and me, Sonny?”

There was a certain biting acid when the Italian scoffed out, “What’s that?”

“When something needs to be done, I fucking do it. I don’t wait around and ask questions. I don’t expect my boys to frolic along like a bunch of idiots who just know what they have to do. No, I’m me because I’m goddamned good at what I do and they know it. They have a boss for a reason. I get my hands red just like they do. They call me Pakhan and respect it. And you know what else comes of that, Don?”

“Don’t you—”

“I don’t fuck up,” Anton interrupted darkly. “I don’t mess up hits, or takes, and like hell would I accept anything less than perfect craftsmanship from my guys when it comes to their work. Bombs don’t get mucked up; we keep it good and clean, and toes don’t get stepped on. Also, I like to think I have a pretty good internal indicator on when to back the hell off of something. Clearly yours is broken, given the gift that blew up in my driveway this morning.

“Important bulletin, Sonny … your work was terribly shoddy in more ways that I have time to explain.” Anton chuckled, keeping his gaze locked through the scope. “That the kind of guys you have working under you now? Or would the regulars who do your hit work just not take the minuscule bait you offered to off Viviana for you?”

“Wasn’t me who offered that.”

“Bullshit.”

In no way was Anton going to keep the train of questioning going if it wasn’t working to his gain. He’d already spotted ten different pairs of people and he had his scope pulled back at a far enough length in sight to have all of them loaded in so he could watch their movements closely. So far, nothing.

“Your daughter, Cici … right?”

Sonny went silent again.

“I’d suggest you don’t hang up the phone on me, Don. You won’t like what I do next,” Anton warned quietly. “The very last thing you want is for me to go in on her angry, trust that.”

“I have three daughters.”

“Mmhmm, and two sons. But your youngest girl is just twenty-one. Cici,” he repeated, drawling the name out on an exhale of ashy smoke. “Shit, you even got that girl in etiquette school. I have to say, her bull is a downright idiot, though. You should get on that one. He might be fucking her like Vine’s was. Sorry about that, by the way. It was better we do it than you, of course, because you would have if I let him live, but still. They made it quick. Apologies nonetheless.”

The bull comment might very well have done what Anton was looking for. Sonny was murmuring on the other end of the phone in what sounded like Italian while a particular movement from the far left of his scope caught his keen eye. A bigger body was moving away from a tall, female-looking figure.

Again, Anton’s mouth curved into a smirk, his tongue already tasting blood.

“You wanted to make your point, so I’m going to make mine now. You’re a stupid man, but you’re an even worse boss.”

“Fuck you, Anton.”

“Ouch, try a little lower. You should have killed her when you had the chance, idiot. Lucky for a lot of people that you didn’t manage to get the job done. You want to know one more difference between you and me, Sonny?”

“Not really. Your opinion doesn’t add any merit to my life.”

Anton watched the figure move in sync with the sound of muffled voices being passed by, sirens getting closer, and grass shuffling underfoot over the receiver.

“I’m going to tell you anyway. Figure this will be a life lesson you might want to take from here, you know, should it ever happen again …” There was a goal to Anton’s rambling madness. The last thing he wanted Sonny thinking was that he was in his vicinity. “When you go into hiding, the rest of your family does, too. Third row building, first floor, eighth apartment down from the left side is Cici’s bedroom window at her school. The building doesn’t have electronic security for room break-ins, so why on earth did you think it was okay for her to be situated on the bottom floor?”

Other than the background noise, all of Sonny’s sounds and movement had stopped.

Just like the figure in the scope.

Anton had him.

So damned easy.

Snap, click …
boom
.

“Don’t—”

“Yeah, because you get to make all the fucking calls right now, asshole.”

Zoning in to ready the shot, Anton felt himself grow cold all over again.

“Before I finish this off, there’s one more thing, Don.”

The voice was choked on the other end of the phone. “
What
?”

“The last thing you should have ever done was stepped in my way. Contrary to the old tale, there’s no honor among thieves, especially our kind. Your biggest mistake was picking up your phone tonight and saying hello …”

“Wh—”

“Because if you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re nothing like me,” Anton finished.

The trigger pulled back under his finger.

It’d be a clean hit. Through and through.

This boss wasn’t one to miss and he didn’t second guess.

The body dropped.

The phone’s speaker went silent as screams cut through the dark air.

Anton slid down out of sight.

• • •

A nurse slipped into Viviana’s room in the early morning hours. Anton had damn near fallen asleep, but even her quiet footsteps had his eyes snapping open. Nothing like natural adrenaline to keep someone alert.

“Lemme wake her up,” Anton mumbled, rubbing his face. “If that’s what you’re here to do, I mean.”

The nurse faltered, two little white cups in her hands nearly spilling whatever medication they had in them. “Um, it is what I’m here for, Mr…?”

“Anton Avdonin. Her fiancé.”

Again, the nurse just looked surprised and confused. He tried to look unbothered by her reaction. It had been a rush-rush night for him and Bo to dispose of the SUV at a scrap yard, along with the phone and gun. Needing another vehicle, he’d finally made face at his club, though he didn’t notice anyone trailing him. Then he’d made a quick trip to his Oceana home where he showered and changed clothes before throwing the ones he had worn into a random dumpster on his way back to the hospital.

Finally making it back to the hospital around five in the morning, Anton was let in a back exit door where no cameras could see him returning. Ivan slipped out just as quickly.

“Is it done?” his lawyer had asked.

“All done,” Anton had replied.

That was the extent of their conversation. Nothing else needed to be said. Of course, he hadn’t slept in fucking hours. Anton was exhausted, but there was no way on earth his girl was going to be waking him up.

“I was here yesterday, most of the day. You didn’t see me?” he asked the nurse.

“No, sir.”

Anton shrugged. “Ivan went home late last night. Maybe we just passed you girls by. We know you’re busy.”

“Yes, very busy. I’m sure she’d love to have you wake her up. Just be careful of her bandages, and make sure she takes her antibiotics and vitamin with the breakfast they’re about to bring in. It won’t be long before she’ll need her bandages changed and burns cleaned, and she seems to get a little prickly about the pain …”

“She’s not being given medication for that?”

The nurse pursed her lips. “Very little.”

Anger pooled in Anton’s gut. Viviana had survived a shitty bomb, sure, but she’d still survived it. Did they expect her not to have pain at all?

“Who’s the doctor on call?”

“Dr. Kinley.”

“Okay, so when he or she, whatever, gets around to getting here, make sure they’re aware that my fiancée nearly died yesterday. If she wants pain meds—”

“She did have them for a while, and the dosage was upped a little yesterday. Before bed last night, however, she refused the drip again, sir.”

“
What
?”

The nurse cleared her throat before placing the little cups on the nightstand. “You were here yesterday, correct?”

He cringed at the slip, before turning away to look out the window. He didn’t want to be in the woman’s sight. “Thank you. I’ll wake her up.”

“Remember, prenatal vitamin and antibiotics
with
her breakfast.”

Prenatal vitamin
?

Anton stood in shocked silence for longer than he must have realized because when he turned to ask the woman to repeat herself, just for his crazy mind’s sake, she was already gone. Instead his gaze zoned in on the figure curled up in the bed.

With a pillow under her head, one tucked into her back, and another keeping her arm elevated, Viviana’s side rose and fell with quiet breaths. She seemed content, despite the pain. Turned towards him, he could see the cut they’d stitched up above her eye. They did a damn good job, despite the swelling. It was a reminder that he still needed his arm looked at. The side of her neck was bandaged quite heavily, too, making him wince. Scratches dotted her cheekbone and jaw, splattering a reddish discoloration up to her brow.

Damn, his heart was aching.

Of course he’d seen her injuries right after it happened, and between the flurried movements in the ambulance, but now … now it just fucking
hurt
. It was a sickening reminder that he’d somehow managed to let someone slip past his eye.

It wasn’t like Anton to mess something like that up.

Fuck, she had him in a right mess in a whole bunch of ways.

Prenatal vitamin?

Again, he couldn’t wrap his mind around those words.

Chances are slim
, she’d said.

And he’d been de-fucking-lighted.

Yeah, Anton would have let her wade through the next couple of years of their life until she was ready for kids. Whenever that was, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t already ready and revving for one … or two. Especially with her.

Now his hands needed something to do because his lungs were taking in air too fast and his heart was racing. He wasn’t any less excited, but suddenly the weight of just what it meant for her to be in that state while she was recovering kind of snuck up on him.

Reality sucked.

They had so much crap to wade through.

It certainly didn’t help that he needed to wake her up and talk about Rocco, either.

Ivan’s late night message about Viviana’s wishes for the pup hadn’t been expected, but maybe it should have. Her love for the dog went deeper than he thought if she was willing to watch him go through all the pain and suffering on the possible chance he might eventually be okay. Anton wasn’t going to say no, but he wasn’t going to sugar-coat that for her either.