The Arrangement (9 page)

It didn’t much matter. He didn’t have a choice.

If somebody had managed to get inside, Anton was going to make fucking sure they didn’t ever leave unless it was in garbage bags.

The gun in his hand snapped loudly as he cocked the hammer.

“Anton?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep,” he said, turning to face Viviana and keeping the gun hidden. “I’ll be right back. Just have to use the bathroom.”

Viviana rubbed at her eyes and sat up. “No, I heard your gun. What’s wrong?” Anton wished he could lie to her, but the lights on the panel were still blinking brightly on the wall. When her gaze caught the warning from the security, fear welled in her eyes. “Is that …?”

His heart rate picked up at the tremor in her voice.

“Go back to sleep,” he repeated calmly.

“Anton—”

“Don’t, Vine. Trust me. Lay your head down on that pillow, close your eyes, and I will wake you up in the morning like I did yesterday, and the day before.”

Anton understood he was asking a lot in his simple request. Chances were if someone was downstairs and they had managed to get past the bulls and the security measures somehow, it wouldn’t be fun, quiet, or easy when he went down there. He wasn’t afraid. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had come into his home assuming he’d be an easy kill. However, Anton was worried for Viviana and her well-being, emotionally and physically.

“Can you do that for me, please?” Anton asked.

Viviana bit her lip, nodding. “Okay.”

Not wanting to risk the possible intruder having any more time inside the home than he had already been given, Anton grabbed his cell phone off the small desk and left the bedroom. He shut the door behind him, and it wasn’t five seconds later he heard quiet footsteps before the door’s lock clicked.

Smart girl
, he thought with a cold smile. But Anton also knew she wouldn’t sleep until he was back in that bed with her.

Dialing the bull who should have been at the front entrance to the house, Anton pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

“Boss?”

“Breach,” he said coolly.

“What? No way, Boss. Joe is in the back and I’m—”

“According to the security panels, someone is downstairs and they got in without setting off the goddamn night alarm. As of now, I can’t hear anything, but when I get in the stairwell I very well might. If someone got into this house on your watch, I will gut you, Rory. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Yeah, Boss, I got you,” Rory answered. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll call Joe … if he’s back there.”

Yeah, Anton wondered that, too. What if someone had taken out one of his guys? It was possible.

“You do that. Ten seconds and I want you coming in from the front and him moving in through the back if you can get him on the phone. We meet in the kitchen. Let’s try to keep it quiet. Vine’s trying to sleep and Sasha won’t appreciate being woken up by someone’s screams.”

“Got it.”

Anton hung the phone up and made his way down the hallway, not bothering to turn on any lights as he went. Once he opened the door to the stairwell, the panel downstairs would notify the intruder that Anton was coming down. He wanted to be ready for whoever it was, not the other way around, so he took a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his raging emotions as he came to the stairwell door.

It took him all of three seconds to blink away whatever hesitation might have remained. Tightening his grip on his gun, Anton opened the door and took the stairs two at a time. Instead of his nerves growing as he neared the bottom door, he only became calmer He could already taste the blood on his tongue.

And now he was just pissed the fuck off.

Somebody was going to bleed for waking him up and scaring Viviana. They’d get even worse if it was an intruder. A soft whine behind the door at the bottom of the stairs stopped Anton from slamming it open.

“Rocco?” he asked.

The animal should have been inside his kennel. He had never escaped, or tried to, before.

The pup barked loudly, but his master knew it wasn’t a warning like he’d been trained for, rather an indication of his excitement.

“Rocco, you little—”

Anton gritted his teeth and opened the door to find the German shepherd wagging his tail with his tongue sticking out.

“Boss?” Rory called out from the darkness.

“Fucking Rocco,” Joe growled, coming around from the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?”

Anton frowned at Clarissa’s groggy voice adding to the mix.

“Everything’s fine,” Rory said lowly. “Go to bed.”

The previous anger and desire to kill Anton had been feeling ebbed away as he stared down at his waiting dog. Clearly, Rocco had set off the sensors from the inside, and it wasn’t something they’d ever had to deal with before.

“How’d you get out, huh?” he asked the pup.

The two bulls had come to stand in the hallway, each sporting amused expressions.

“Boss?” Joe asked, hiding his grin with his hand.

Now Anton just felt stupid. Viviana was probably upstairs freaking out.

Perfect
, he thought.

“Take Rocco out to piss, and then get him back in his kennel.”

Rory snorted. “Can’t. I noticed it on the way in. He must have broken one of the hinges because the side collapsed in.”

The dog in question seemed wholly unbothered that he had caused such concern and ruckus. Why on earth was he trying to escape, now? Did he want to be closer to Viviana?

“Viviana?” Anton asked, noticing immediately that the dog perked up at her name. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. No way was the dog sleeping in his bedroom every night. “No way, Rocco. You have a bed.”

Rocco whined and cocked his head in a lupine way. “No,” Anton repeated.

“This is really fun and all …”

Anton tossed a glare at Joe and it gave Rocco all the time he needed to push past his master and jog up the stairwell. Cussing low under his breath, Anton knew there would be no fighting with the dog, never mind Viviana when she found out what happened.

“So, no gutting?” Rory asked cheerfully.

“Shut up.”

“Night, Boss,” Joe said as Anton turned away.

“The amount of money I spent on that dog’s training …”

Grumbling under his breath, he followed the same path the animal had taken.

• • •

With Viviana on one side and Ivan on the other, Rocco strolled at a comfortable pace between them but never trotted more than a foot or two ahead. His large head stood higher than her hip, ears twitching every few seconds as his nose would drop to the ground to sniff before coming back up again like he hadn’t changed his course.

The quiet Brooklyn suburb where Anton had situated the safe house was just that, quiet. She wasn’t at all familiar with the area, the roads, or where it was exactly that they were. Ivan had returned to the safe house nearly a week later, and when she gained the courage to ask him, he wouldn’t say, simply pointing out that it wasn’t important so long as she was comfortable.

And she was, oddly.

Sure, things were a little awkward here and there, but Viviana couldn’t ignore the way she enjoyed waking up to Anton’s blue eyes or feeling his finger trailing up and down her cheek. Despite her and Anton sharing his bed every night, he hadn’t stepped over any boundaries. For all intents, he was a gentleman. Maybe he was just waiting for her to make some kind of move. Hell, he hadn’t even kissed her, and she was so wanting for that.

“So …” Ivan murmured, kicking a stray pebble off the walk onto the street. Rocco’s ears perked at the action, but he didn’t make a move to go after the rock. “Anton was happier this morning than I’ve seen him in years. Using his given name didn’t get me the automatic, knee-jerk growl it usually does when he’s in a morning kind of mood.”

She barely acknowledged that he’d spoken. “And how many years is that, exactly?”

“A few,” he replied vaguely. “Since he was a young man and me in my early twenties, I suppose.”

After a long week that involved Anton taking her through a room by room tour of their multi-storied home, and showing her where she could find anything she needed, he handed over a disposable cell phone with pre-programmed numbers. It included anyone and everyone she might possibly need to call, starting with his. According to him, once every couple of months they would replace the phone with a new one as a precautionary measure. Even though the calls couldn’t be recorded, she still needed to be careful about what she said during conversations or texts.

Then, Ivan had finally come around with the things promised, like that laptop and the credit cards. With those two things, she could buy just about whatever it was she wanted. Viviana was still considering all that lace, satin, and silk…

“Anton mentioned something about switching vehicles before he comes home so no one follows him?” she asked quietly.

Ivan chuckled. “Not fun when it has to be done three or four times before you lose the car trailing you. Either way, he has a few drivers waiting throughout the city at different spots and a simple text allows them to move to a new area quickly. The one under the Brooklyn Bridge nearly always seems to work, thank God.”

“Do you do that, I mean, before coming here?”

“Of course!” He almost looked offended at her question. “I would never take risks like that, Vine.”

“I’m sorry; it’s just been a lot to take in. That’s all.” Sighing, she looked away, enjoying the peaceful streets and trees with leaves just starting to change color. Viviana missed New York, despite Canada’s hospitable people and the few friends she managed to make there. “What’s he doing today, anyway?”

The chiding click of Ivan’s tongue told her that was the wrong thing to ask. “Vine …”

“Just wondering.”

“What I can tell you is that he had an early meeting this morning with many others like us, to inform them of your safe arrival and begin to set a proper watch in place between all the crews throughout the city. Usually I’d accompany him, but he felt safer with Erik going and me staying with you until you’ve had more time to adjust and settle.”

Remembering the older man sitting on the couch the first night she woke up in the safe house, Viviana wondered what his place was in their group. “Erik, what is it he does, exactly?”

Ivan’s lips drew a tight line before he answered with, “A bookmaker of sorts, who collects payments, assures the proper enticements for certain people are in place, and whatever else needs to be handled in regards to cash and things. Generally we’re considered the two spies, above the Brigadiers, but below your Anton, we keep a close watch on everyone, or try to. In a manner of speaking, we are his right and left hand where he can’t always be, you understand?”

“Enticements.” She tried hard not to scoff. “You mean bribes.”

“You call it whatever you want. I call it what I need to in order for your future husband to stay out of prison.”

His blunt honesty silenced her instantly, reminding her that the life they lived daily was no game, it was real, and frighteningly dangerous. One misstep on their part and she’d be stuck like her mother who spent ten out of her twenty-four years of marriage with a husband behind bars. Not all of those years were consecutive, but regardless, it wasn’t something Viviana was ready to handle, or think about, for that matter.

With her hand trailing along the back of Rocco’s neck, she hummed softly under her breath. Despite the fear he had caused the other night by getting out of his kennel, she still adored the dog. According to Anton, because Viviana slept like the dead and rarely heard a thing, Rocco was attempting to get upstairs more often at night now, too. The furry companion pushed his large head against the palm instinctively, enjoying her contact as much as she liked giving it to him.

“He’s glad to have you with him,” Ivan interjected kindly, bringing her out of her musings.

“Anton?”

“No,” he said, laughing. “Well yes, him as well, but Rocco, I mean. I remember when Anton ordered him from the breeder in San Francisco four years ago. That pup didn’t know up from down, wouldn’t listen to a thing he was told, shit in every corner he could find, and then suddenly he was gone and came back a whole different animal. Anton still has that chaise he nearly destroyed his first week home. Got it restored, I believe. It was antique, belonged to his grandmother’s mother.”

The things she knew about Anton’s grandmother, or any of his family really, were very little, and she felt ashamed to even admit that to herself. Even though their marriage had been arranged for years, that didn’t mean there weren’t a lot of things in between she didn’t know or understand about him, his upbringing, or the people left behind.

“His grandmother, she died a long time ago, right?”

Ivan nodded. “While his mother was pregnant with him, actually. A stray bullet where there shouldn’t have been a gun was the cause, unfortunately. Nicoli always kept her present in the family in some way, and Anton still has his grandmother from his mother’s side, but I think he wished he had known this one as an individual instead of just the stories they told. Who wouldn’t?”

Viviana had to agree. Her grandparents on both sides had played a massive part in her life growing up, though after her family was killed, her father’s parents made a point of keeping her at a distance that Sonny felt comfortable with. It hurt her—still did—but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud and give her uncle the satisfaction of seeing her struggle with one more thing he caused. In some ways, she understood her grandparents needed to make that decision, but it in no way meant that she had to agree with it.

It wasn’t long before they reached the dog park. Viviana found a bench to sit on quickly enough and waited for Ivan to join her. Surprising her, he pulled a collar with tags jingling from his coat pocket and placed it around Rocco’s neck, speaking quietly in Russian before the dog was off, running immediately in the direction of the water.

“He always needs his identifier inside the gates,” Ivan informed her as he sat down. “Some of these owners get antsy around an unmarked dog, despite his excellent behavior. They’re quick to call animal control and we don’t need that nonsense. Anton has a collar he keeps on him, too. I imagine he has one for you to keep as well, but probably forgot, given the excitement over the last week.”