The Life (The Russian Guns)

by Bethany-Kris

  “All is good,” he murmured. “Besides, I was thinking about having it inked on my wrist when we went back.”

  “But people might see.”

  “Probably not,” Anton said with a wiry grin. “I tend to keep my arms covered up pretty well.”

  “Not when you work out.”

  Ah, she had a point there. “Never mind, we’ll talk about it later. For now, I have one more surprise for my wife.”

  “Oh?” she asked, voice lighting up with curiosity and amusement. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

  “Yes, I do.” Anton placed a quick peck to Viviana’s mouth to quiet her up and keep her from arguing further. “Do you know a lot of men give their wives something when the baby is born? A gift for a gift, kind of thing?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “This is mine to you, Vine. You’re not going to want jewelry or some fancy new car to show off. I know that … I know you,” he added, enjoying the sight of her smile growing. “The only thing we really need is to be together. Yes, having you here helps if that sit down happens, and it’s a nice break for us both before the baby comes, but it’s still all for you. Quiet, love, breakfast in bed, and flowers on the floor in the morning. When do I ever get to do that stuff for you, really?”

  Viviana didn’t seem to know what to say. Anton wasn’t exactly a romantic man, but his wife didn’t have a great deal of romantic notions, either. They simply didn’t need to because they hadn’t ever found a time when those things were needed to keep their feelings and desires alive between them. So, when he did get to bring her home flowers, or take her away like he had, it left a profound effect on them both. It happened not because feelings were fading, but because they wouldn’t ever let them.

  Sighing, Anton reached up to cup Viviana’s cheek, swiping away a bit of moisture still left on her pretty skin. “Maybe this was the solution to a problem I was looking for. Trying to figure out why on earth this woman I love so much would keep things hidden that she knew were important to me; hating it when my wife felt she was undesirable and wouldn’t want to be loved; fighting with you. That’s not us, and I wanted to show you us again, baby.

  “I didn’t have it planned, nor did I provoke you into an argument the night I brought you here, but that was the moment I figured it out,” Anton said with a shrug. “There was something going so wrong. We were linking up here and there but we weren’t connecting. It fucking sucked like nothing else and it was screwing me up something awful. You told me to say something, remember?”

  Viviana swallowed roughly, but nodded all the same. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t say things—I do. I can tell you a million and one times a day that I love you but it’s not going to be the same as when you let me show you.”

  “Okay.”

  Anton bit the inside of his cheek, surveying the expression his wife sported with clearer eyes. That look falling over her pretty face like a curtain dropping to hide the darkness from clouding up a window was the same one Scarlett had captured on her final shot. It was their vulnerability, her weakness, a strength he could understand, and above all else, a final wholeness.

  Connection.

  Love.

  The realization of why Viviana had started shedding those tears suddenly made a great deal of more sense to Anton. Lust and desire were obvious human needs, things people who cared for each other in a romantic sense would always share. Viviana and Anton didn’t have a problem mingling with those things together, despite the brief pauses from the pregnancy. Attraction ignited between the two like a flame to gasoline, and he was content to feed those flames every damned day of their life.

  Love, however, could be found over and over again.

  “That was it, wasn’t it?” Anton asked gently. “Why you started with the crying, because you love me.”

  “Yeah.” Viviana sniffed a quiet laugh, dropping her eyes out of sight. “Odd, right? I’ve always loved you, it’s not something I should be surprised about. It shouldn’t take the air right out of my chest, or knock me out of my mind. I know I’m in love with you, so why?”

  Anton really didn’t have an answer for that; Viviana didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead of speaking, he was graced with the memory of the first time he realized that he too had been so in love with his girl. A girl he always knew he loved, but the shock-and-awe factor of the weight coming down on his heart had still been oh so dumbfounding.

  “It’s good to be reminded,” Viviana told him, her hand coming to splay open to Anton’s middle. “So thank you, again, for reminding me.”

  Anton grinned, taking in her life and love. “Anytime, baby.”

  *

  Viviana was lost in the sight of flickering lights dancing along the mouth of the trail as they came to the edge of the forest. From the lake’s small dock to the front steps of the lodge, tiny tea lights had been randomly placed and lit. Some were in bunches on the sides of the stairs, others lined down the pathway, and a few were scattered in the grass and gravel. With not a lick of wind in the area, they all burned bright and beautiful.

  Daylight was beginning to dim, so the lambent, yellow glow of tiny flames gave the area a particularly romantic and peaceful quality, even more so than what its natural ambiance held. A quiet hum of the Americana blues music Viviana loved wafted from inside the lodge.

  The music purring into the air was nothing like that. Sounding as emotional as she did sinful, the female’s melodic tenor sang of earlier years, of seeing beauty in the backdrop, and of finding love in the dangers of life. The melody crawled over the area like a thick, slow moving fog intent on covering every inch it could reach with its passion and soul. The not so hidden meaning of the lyrics resonating straight to Viviana’s heart.

  The artist currently singing was a particular favorite of Viviana’s. She had no doubt Anton knew it, too. After all, he said it first: he knew her.

  Following the still flickering candles with her blurred, watery gaze, Viviana was quick to notice the lights in the lodge had been dimmed and smoke puffed from the chimney for the first time since they arrived. It wasn’t cold enough for them to need to use it, but she distinctly remembered asking her husband if it would be safe to use it one night, maybe. Anton hadn’t given her a real reply.

  Now, she knew why.

  Even the forest seemed to hold its life at bay as Viviana blinked at the spectacle before her, disbelief and wonder coloring up the love and happiness she was already feeling. She was struck speechless. Starry-eyed and overcome, she tried to speak, but couldn’t.

  Anton fingered the collar of his shirt she wore, saying nothing and letting the amazement seep in a little further into her blood and bones. How on earth did he find time for this? There had to be at least three hundred tea lights glowing. And where were the other three people who had just been here, anyway?

  Seemingly reading her mind, Anton finally gave her some clarity. “Scarlett has two early morning sessions booked in New York tomorrow, so I asked the guys to make sure she arrived back in plenty of time to get some decent rest.”

  Without really saying it, Anton had also just told Viviana that Rory and Joe wouldn’t be back for several hours, likely well after midnight.

  “How?” she managed to ask.

  Anton stepped behind Viviana’s form, saying nothing. Viviana wondered if he would tell her at all, but she forgot those thoughts the moment his fingertips wove into her hair and trailed tenderly in a back and forth motion on her skin. When his warm smell danced along her flesh, she sighed.

  “The guys helped a lot—I owe them big. They’re probably the only two men who have a personal viewing to our daily lives. They eat with us, sleep in our home occasionally, keep to the shadows, and help me to protect you. In a way, they know us, too. Rory, especially, was more than happy to help.”

  Wringing her hands and suddenly feeling unsure and nervous as to what she should do next, Viviana found herself lost to the movement of the swaying flames. In every way that c
ounted, she was overwhelmed. From the fast pace of her heart, to the unknown emotions swirling around in her chest, to the choked sensation holding back her air. Anton caught her totally off guard and she didn’t know how to react about at all.

  It was lovely, amazingly thoughtful, and Viviana was so grateful.

  As his arms wrapped around her trembling figure, his hands lacing over her stomach, and his chin rested to her shoulder, Anton grew silent. It seemed like he wasn’t even breathing for a second, like he was absorbing the shock from her, too.

  “This is …” Viviana couldn’t find the words, but her heart was filled, pumping out love by the gallon as slivers of tears escaped from her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “No, I don’t want to hear that. Not right now.” When his arms tightened, pulling her closer, Viviana sank into his hug as a quiet sob broke free from her throat. Grazing his hand affectionately over her swelled middle, palm pressing down protectively, Anton placed a kiss to the side of her throat. “Thank you, baby. Your body, your love, your life—those are the things you share with me. Every single day you share those things and the only thing you ask in return is for me to show you that I love you, too.”

  Viviana was straight spun. Her heart was beating to the tune of his heartfelt words, while her soul was twisting to reach out and find his. Laying her arms over his to feel more of his heat and have more of their skin touching, she let the topsy-turvy emotional waves wash over her freely.

  Anton took a deep breath, smiling against her hair. “There’s nothing in the world that I could give to repay you for carrying my child. I know that sometimes you think he makes you crazy and terrible, but for me, he makes you amazing and beautiful. This is my first child—my son—and the greatest woman in the world is giving him to me. A woman whom I love more than what should be possible. And without even knowing him, I already love him. That’s pretty damned incredible to me. Also, I lied.”

  At that moment, Viviana didn’t care what he did wrong. She forced herself to speak, but her words still came out breathless. “About what?”

  “The things I said I didn’t get for you.” It took her a moment to understand what Anton was getting at, but he continued before she had the chance to refute his offerings. When his finger trailed along her neck where a chain would rest, a shiver rolled over her shoulders, causing him to chuckle deeply in response. “Well, the jewelry, of course. I think had I bought you another car—”

  “I don’t need another car,” she grumbled half-heartedly.

  “Oh, I know.”

  The distinct sound of his sharp inhale as Anton leaned down to graze his mouth along the shell of Viviana’s ear echoed. Something wonderful and wicked was beginning to rouse in her body. Beneath the yoga shorts she had slipped back on, her sex was already throbbing, wet, and hot. She didn’t know if that had been her husband’s intention, but he was sure as hell working her up to it quickly enough.

  “But,” Anton added, popping the word from his mouth. “I was looking into a private jet last month. If I wanted to take my family out of the country for a vacation, I couldn’t do it publicly due to my lack of a passport because of those weapons charges.”

  “You bought a jet for me?” Viviana asked, trying to wrap her mind around that little tidbit of information. Nope, she still couldn’t do it. “That’s insane.”

  “Us. And no, not yet, it should go through next month sometime. Fly to Jamaica to smoke some of the best grass we can find, hmm? England, maybe, so I can see my son standing on the steps of a palace like the prince he is. I intend to see you sprawled out on a white sand beach, baby, looking like fucking sin in not a thing but your skin.”

  Jesus Christ, Viviana wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

  The quietest click of beads hitting together caught her attention, but the nip of Anton’s teeth to her jaw made it all disappear. At the same time, something cool slid around Viviana’s neck and she reached up automatically to touch the item.

  The smooth globes under her fingertips ranged in size from small, to medium, to large depending on how high or low she felt along the three stranded ropes of pearls. Looking down to where the long strands reached below the hollow of her neck, Viviana lifted up the ropes enough to see the pearls were a pretty grey. At the base of the back of her neck, Anton’s hands touched down with the faintest of grazes before something slightly heavier than the jewelry itself rested against her skin. While keeping her one hand on the pearls, she reached back to feel the diamond encased clasp that held the links together.

  Viviana still couldn’t speak. Anton filled the silence for her.

  “Pearls are the queen of gems, and it’s often said they are the chosen gem of queens. So, it’s most appropriate that I give my queen her first pair at one of the most beautiful times in her life. I thought about giving you these after Demyan was born, but I think now is better, no?”

  Only a faint nod answered him back. Anton laughed low, running his fingers tentatively along her new accessory before he spoke again. “From the day he is born, and on that same day every month until his first birthday, there will be flowers delivered to our home. For the first year, they will include letters. For every year after, you will receive flowers on his birthday.”

  She felt the air leave her lungs in a shaky puff. “You didn’t—”

  “Oh, I’m not finished yet. Some of these things have been in the works for a while. This,” he said, touching her pearls, “… for example. Others, like the lodge, tonight, and Scarlett, were last minute thoughts that somehow managed to come together for me. Somebody is looking out for us, Viviana. Or just you.”

  “The only thing I did was get pregnant, Anton.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  No, Viviana didn’t, but making sense of his worship of her would be a heck of a lot easier if it was that simple. If she was any other normal woman with a regular husband who didn’t have the means and mode to buy things eighteen years’ worth of flowers, pearls that probably cost more than a house, a jet, and—wait, he did say there was more …

  “That old bookstore in Little Odessa you visit every couple of months to stock up your collection?”

  Viviana turned around in his arms, surprised he even knew about that. It wasn’t that she kept it from him, but Anton wasn’t exactly a huge reader unless it was something dealing with weapons. Although he would act as her pillow while she read. A hard pillow.

  “How did you know?”

  Anton smiled down at her, the mischief in his blue eyes lighting up his whole face as he traced her bottom lip with his finger. “You kept leaving piles of books in our bedroom until you had a whole stack in the corner. It’s not like I have a bookshelf sitting around, Vine. Where did you think that came from, anyway? It didn’t just magically appear. While I ordered that, I wondered where in the hell you were getting all of those books from. Joe offhandedly mentioned the bookstore you frequented, so I went from there.”

  Viviana was scared to ask, but she did anyway. “And?”

  “Did you know Mr. Lander’s wife is sick?”

  Viviana nodded, remembering the man speaking about it. He’d been terribly sad because the bookstore had been for his wife—built over fifty years earlier in the beginning of their marriage, it was her dream to own and run one successfully because she loved to read.

  “Well, I didn’t,” Anton said, frowning. “I should have. Harold’s wife was a good friend of my grandmother Anna. Nicoli’s wife. Sometimes in the midst of running in the new world, I forget about those who helped run the old one, however it was that they did it. Sandra helped my grandmother once or twice before Nicoli came into the picture, back when her first husband was beating the living hell out of her on a nightly basis.”

  “Small world.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I thought I should go in and say hello to him one afternoon after I realized that was the place you were buying all your books from. Harold told me about Sandra, which just …”

  “Hu
rt?” Viviana asked softly.

  Anton frowned again. “Nicoli would have done anything for Sandra because of what she did for my grandmother. In fact, he did—they almost lost the bookstore a few years before he died and he cleared their debt no questions asked. He didn’t want a damned thing in return, either. It had nothing to do with the Bratva, just him being a friend because he had the ability to do so for someone his wife had once loved.”

  “That was pretty great of him.”

  “It was.” Sighing, Anton leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “So, I guess it was ironic that it also happened to be the place my wife found comfort, too. Especially because Harold needs to sell the place to help pay for his wife’s hospital stays and treatments. Again, the new world and the old one intermingling. It wasn’t expected of me to help, or even to consider it, but it wouldn’t have felt okay with me had I not. They’ll be able to enjoy their last couple of years together, without worrying about money, or stress, or their business.

  “I visited Sandra, too—she’s in the same hospital as Daniil, coincidentally. It’s crazy, her and Harold, I mean. Years later and they’re so in love, even sick and dying and losing each other in one way or another.”

  “A lot like your mom and dad,” Viviana said, feeling a sentimental smile take hold of her cheeks.

  “Yeah, that, too. A lot like what I thought of us in fifty, maybe sixty years, too.”

  “Did you buy me the bookstore?”

  Anton smirked sinfully, the sight making Viviana’s insides swirl with desire. “Yep. I know you want to go to finish school eventually, and I’m sure you will, but Demyan is going to put a slow to that for a while. This bookstore … it’s not mine. You’re also not one to sit in the house and do nothing but be a housewife—you need to feel like you’re doing something, Vine. It has to be something you enjoy, also. I sincerely hope the bookstore will give you that, and the ability to keep our son closer all the while.”

  “I …”

  Seemingly seeing her difficulty of creating speech, Anton held her close, tucking her face into his chest as arms enclosed her frame. “So, tonight, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Dance, love, relax—whatever, Vine. We’ll try to come back here at least once a year, and I’m not going to use it as a safe place when I need you out of state, just a getaway for our family. I know you how much you’ve come to like it. Nicoli gave it to Daniil, he gave it to me, and eventually, I’ll give it to Demyan, too.”