The Arrangement (Crimson Romance)

by Bethany-Kris

  Ready, that’s what it was. Ready and waiting for her to simply make herself at home, and Viviana didn’t even have to do a thing. She couldn’t bring herself to understand how it could feel that way; how Anton knew her so well. Knew that she wouldn’t want something so massive it needed maids to clean it; knew that windows needed to be opposite to the beds so morning light would touch the sheets; knew …

  Knew that she would want a tiny cubby in her bedroom just waiting for a baby’s crib to be placed inside.

  He couldn’t possibly have known those things, but instead wanted them, too.

  So, maybe it had scared her for a moment. Because how else could someone react when their life, wants, and thoughts were being reflected in someone who could only know what they’d learned in one short week nine long years before? Finding her soul mate had been a scary thing when she was only sixteen, but finding him all over again when she was almost twenty-five and not expecting it was heart-stopping.

  Viviana breathed through her nose, blinking at the hardwood floor. Speak, her mind ordered. Say something.

  “I like this … cubby, too.”

  Anton hummed a sound, staking a step forward into the room. “It was a second walk-in closet, but the room had more than enough storage space. It’s nice to just relax or whatever, especially in the morning.”

  Something stuck in her throat. Words, likely, and overwhelming feelings.

  “You didn’t put it in for that, though, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t,” he admitted, staring straight at her and seeming wholly unashamed. “And I hope it doesn’t have you frightened.”

  Suddenly, Viviana was rambling, words spilling from her heart and mind. They wanted to get out; had to be said. Fought their way from her chest to tumble straight out trembling lips. Anton needed to hear them, she knew.

  “I asked earlier about the business in the house because my father didn’t keep it out, like at all. The garage was off-limits, his office, the library, and fuck, once we couldn’t touch the freezer in the storage for a month and a half. I don’t … damn it, Anton, I don’t ever want that for my children. And what’s worse is that I never wanted children because of this,” she muttered, waving between their bodies.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You and me before we were … you and me. I just thought of it as an arrangement—a duty. I knew I wouldn’t get the choice. My husband would want children, so I’d have to do that, but that didn’t mean I wanted them, okay? Why would I want my children being woken up to someone’s screams, or God forbid, finding teeth in the fucking driveway while they rode bikes? Roman was a great father, but he was Boss first. He was the Don. I loved my dad, loved him so much …”

  “I know you did,” he whispered. Viviana hadn’t realized how close he’d come to her until his hands were rubbing her shaking shoulders then cupping either side of her face. “Don’t cry, baby. Not today, Viviana, please. Not in this room, not with me.”

  Always so soft and caring with her when she needed it most, it was just another striking contradiction to the man she thought he could have been.

  “I didn’t want children, Anton.”

  “I told you I wasn’t expect—”

  “I know what you told me,” she interrupted, a little too sharply if his wince was any indication. “And I said didn’t.”

  Air cut through his teeth like a hiss. “Oh.”

  The heavy weight of what she confessed hung in the air and Viviana could only stay silent and let him absorb it. Children had been one thing, but the possibility of children with him had turned into something else entirely. Something so passionate and terrifying that it hurt her lungs when she breathed and made her heart kick-start all over again. A little voice said it wouldn’t be the same as her life had been growing up, while another had a dozen and one reminders of just how it could be exactly that.

  And it didn’t even matter because standing in that almost bare cubby and thinking about what could be there felt so much better. Thinking about the three other bedrooms on the second floor that needed to be filled was scarily stirring. Her birth control shot would stop the moment Anton asked her to, and she knew it. There wasn’t any question in her mind now, but fuck, it still ached.

  Outside of the walls they called home, the two of them could be whomever they wanted or needed to be, but inside … inside was a different story altogether.

  “If you want children someday, you have to understand what that means for us. Please don’t do that to our children, okay? Please, Anton. Don’t be that man first and their father second. If you give us a home, you need to make it one, too.”

  Anton cleared his throat before he murmured with a husky tone, “Okay, Vine.”

  • • •

  There was a brief period where Anton simply didn’t know what to say or do; he was still so damned wrapped up in the realization that Viviana wanted children. And not just children, no, his children. Sure, the thought has crossed his mind; he’d be flat out lying if he said it didn’t, but he hadn’t expected her to convey it the way she did, either.

  Now that she’d brought up the topic, his mind was running rampant. Viviana wasn’t the only one who had things to share. Especially on that front.

  “This little room brought on all that, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  Anton nodded, his hands still cradling Viviana’s face as he said, “I’m not him, your dad, I mean. That’s not to say he was doing wrong, either. By his … family … that’s just how they roll. Sometimes things can’t be helped and shit gets brought home when you don’t intend for it to. Us—the bosses—we have to clean up after a lot of stuff that I can’t even begin to explain, nor do I think you really need to know. But it happens; we manage, deal with it, move on …”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “And hope to fuck you’ll forgive us in the morning,” he finished even quieter. “I was fourteen the first time I walked in on something I shouldn’t have. Daniil, his eyes were blank and black. No emotion, no fear, nothing. I didn’t recognize him at first. He just handed over the jug of bleach and a bag of rags and told me to help after everyone calmed down.”

  “Jesus.” A shudder rolled over her shoulders.

  Anton shrugged. “It was also the first time I realized how groomed I had been from a really young age to accept what was going on around me. I didn’t even blink; got down to the floor and cleaned the mess like he told me to. Scrubbed my fucking hands red raw, couldn’t look my mother in the eye the next morning, and aced my English exam that afternoon.

  “Like it always does, life went on,” he said, trying not to sound as indifferent as he truly felt about it. Anton had a lot of time to pick apart his upbringing and the whys of the way it happened. “I finally understood why Dad and Nicoli’s guys kept calling me the little prince then, too. Daniil never wanted to be the boss, he just wasn’t meant to be one.”

  “But you were?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I was. It was something about me, like I was reflecting Nicoli from the time I was small. Called me dangerous and magnetic—significant. I could focus it all when other guys couldn’t. That didn’t mean everyone wanted me to be the boss; the first year after Nicoli died was probably the most dangerous of my life. I made a lot of choices I didn’t want to make and said goodbye to men who watched me grow up, but I did it because I was supposed to. That’s what it took to make me what they knew I always would be.”

  “You shouldn’t tell—”

  Anton smiled grimly. “I’d have to be a little more specific than that to get myself in trouble, baby. My point, though, was that I never wanted that to be my boy. I don’t want to teach him how to clean up a scene, never mind having him see me as anything other than his father. Grooming my child to be like me? I can’t even consider it.”

  “I hear a but in there,” Viviana said, eyes lowering from his.

  “Yeah, there’s always one, right? But, sometimes we don’t get the choice, Viviana. Some
times it’s just in his blood, so he seeks it out and once he’s in, well, he’s in. I’d so much rather he knew what to expect than stumble into it by mistake.”

  “I don’t want to think about any of that. It shouldn’t even be like that.”

  Anton licked his lips, sighing. “I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear, but whether you like it or not, it is something I have to think about should we ever have a boy. That’s reality for me. It might be a rough one, but it’s one nonetheless. I won’t fault you for drawing comparisons, but don’t fault me for knowing what I have to do … and I will do it, Vine. I won’t lie about it.”

  Lines sometimes had to be drawn, Anton knew. It might be the limit that pushed her to say no children, and he’d accept that, but he wasn’t about to lie to her. If Viviana was ready to take a hypothetical leap into the future, he was going to damn well make sure she understood just what it meant.

  But the words she said next weren’t the ones he thought she’d say, either.

  “Don’t tell me, okay? If we ever … It might not happen, but it doesn’t matter. Never tell me.”

  Could he even? Would he be able to tell her the first time their son pulled the trigger; when he learned what it was like to enjoy the spoils of being the son of a boss; when he came home with the tattoos of a rose on his chest and stars on his shoulders? Or would he just let him always be her son?

  No, Anton knew what he’d do. It’d be the same thing as his father did; his hand grasping tight to his son’s jaw, forcing him to stare into blank eyes when he said the words, “Don’t you ever tell your mother about this. Never.”

  Once more, he rolled his thumbs over her cheeks to soothe and wipe away tears. It hurt him to see her struggling, especially if it was with something that should been an exciting, joyous topic, but nothing about their lifestyle was really simple in the end. Everything was double edged.

  “That a rule to remember?” he asked.

  “That’s a rule.”

  Anton nodded, leaning down to catch her frown with his lips. “Understood.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cool air whispered along Viviana’s bare legs, pebbling her skin at its passing with goose bumps. The quiet sounds of the Brighton Beach boardwalk hummed around the pair, but neither seemed to notice the passersby. With Viviana up on the hood of Anton’s Mercedes, he stood on the ground between her legs with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. His chin rested on the top of her head, and they were quiet. Somewhere along the line, one of them decided they had spoken enough and the comfortable, close silence ensued.

  “Too heavy,” he’d told her before they left the Oceana house. “It’s my birthday, and we made this day way too heavy with all this nonsense. Between last night, this morning, the ring, and this? We need to take five minutes away from all of it and chill out.”

  And so, they ended up at the boardwalk. With the sky just beginning to darken and wind picking up from an oncoming storm, most of the people at the pier had left. The few stragglers that were there were also making their way home, so despite the cold as October was coming to an end, Viviana was happy … content.

  “We’re going to be late,” she mumbled, not even bothering to try to move out of his strong grasp. The party started at eight, and the club would open at ten for regular services.

  “We already are.”

  “Oh. Damn.”

  His broad shoulders shrugged. “They expected me to be late. It’s fashionable, or so I’ve been told.”

  Well, she was quite relaxed, so it wasn’t like she was going to complain. “Okay.”

  “Ya lyublyu tyebya,” Anton murmured.

  The sweetest feathers of his kisses dotted down the bridge of her nose as Russian rolled off his tongue like dark molasses. Very rarely did she hear him speak it, and usually he only conversed in that language when it was a conversation she wouldn’t want to be a part of anyway. Still, there was something about those unknown words that called to her, drawing Viviana closer into his embrace and body. Anton held her a little tighter, repeating the same phrase again as his mouth brushed over hers.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” he said, laughing deeply. “You should learn, even if it’s only a few choice phrases.”

  “Italian and English is enough,” she replied, nipping at his cheek playfully. “What did you say?”

  “I love you.”

  “Oh.” Viviana tried to repeat the words he’d said, failing miserably and getting another round of his laughter at the lame attempt. “Ugh. Never mind.”

  “Ya tozhe tyebya lyublyu. Try it.”

  “That’s not what you said first.” Now she was starting to wonder if he was just fucking her around. “Are you being smart?”

  Anton winked. “No. But good catch. It’s the reply, working in both feminine and masculine forms, katyonak.”

  “Kat … what?”

  “Cat is close,” he teased. “Kitten, actually.”

  Viviana made a face. “No thanks.”

  “Well, I wasn’t about to call you a pussy. There’s about ten different ways to say it and none of them mean nice things in Russian You’re going to hear a lot of this muttering tonight, although it’ll be nothing you’ll want to learn, but you might as well get used to it. Come on, try it,” he urged, hands slipping up under her coat to splay against her stomach. “Say it slowly. Ya. Tozhe. Tyebya. Lyublyu.”

  Viviana tried the words again and again until she’d finally managed the pronunciations to his satisfaction. At the sight of his smirk, she knew he liked hearing Russian in her mouth a lot more than he was letting on. Tugging on the collar of his buttoned up suit jacket, she brought him back to her level again.

  “I love you, too.”

  That smirk curved into a brilliant smile. “All right, it’s better like that. You ready—”

  The sudden sheet of rain stopped his words up short. She shrieked at the cold droplets splashing down over her head, keeping her face hidden and hoping to God the bit of makeup she still had left on wouldn’t be ruined.

  “Shit … get in the car.” Anton groaned, pulling her down off the hood and steadying her with one arm. “Go, go, go.”

  Heels slipped on the slick pavement, but it wasn’t long before Viviana found herself shoved inside the dry vehicle. Of course, where she landed wasn’t quite where she expected, either: across the back seat. Anton was right behind her, slamming the door hard as his chuckles echoed inside the cab.

  “Well, damn it.”

  “I think you messed up where we were supposed to go,” she said, struggling to get upright, her voice still breathless. It certainly didn’t help that large hands were gripping both of her thighs up under the short skirt of her dress. “We need to get to the club.”

  Anton made a dismissive sound. “Take your clothes off, Vine.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He waved at the sopping wet coat she had on. It was already seeping through to the dress. “Hurry, before it wrinkles the hell out of your dress. We’ll lay it over the seat, let it dry out a little and then go.”

  “Anton, we’re in a public parking lot.” The words came out slowly, as if she were speaking to a small child. “Anybody could just walk right by and see.”

  “Nope, glass is tinted too dark.”

  Viviana groaned. “I’m not—”

  “Take it off.”

  He didn’t give her another chance to refuse, snapping open the buttons to her tweed coat and pulling it down her shoulders before it fell like a heavy lump of wet wool to the floor. Under his influence, she turned to let him unzip the back of her dress, too. When the black garment was slung over the front driver’s seat, Anton made quick work of removing his own. The grey silk shirt, black tie, and jacket hung off the passenger’s seat.

  After staring out the window and watching the few cars left in the parking lot zoom out, Viviana was satisfied no one would notice her nakedness. The cool leather of the back seat met her back as she lay down across it.
Leaning between the two front seats, Anton dug for something up front before she heard the low purr of the engine starting. Quickly, he was back between her thighs with a cell phone in hand. Warmth blew through the heaters almost instantly.

  “Seven forty-five,” he informed her. Hot kisses danced from the line of her thong up to her navel. She weaved her fingers into the hair on the crown of his head as he looked up and grinned a wicked sight. “We might be more than a little late.”

  With the heat of his hips pressing into the lace of her covered sex, Viviana wasn’t really sure she cared anymore. “You just wanted to get me naked and in the backseat of a Mercedes.”

  “Maybe. The dress would have wrinkled, so it was a perfectly plausible excuse to get you out of your clothes.”

  “You don’t need an excuse.”

  “Sometimes I like to think I have to work for it, okay? Let me have this.”

  Viviana snorted. “All right, work for it, Boss.”

  Anton growled a hoarse, sexy noise that had her soaked from the sound alone. Just as his lips lowered to kiss the sensitive flesh at the inside of her thigh, that cell phone he’d dropped to the floor began ringing. There wasn’t anything quite like bad timing, and by the specific ringtone that was chiming through, she knew it was one of her bulls.

  Anton cussed and grappled for the device, holding it up to his ear. “What?” A beat of murmuring passed on the other end before he huffed. “Yes I know what time the fucking party starts and no, I don’t care. Where are you, anyway?”

  “We can go,” Viviana piped in, but the shake of his head had her sighing.

  “Three rows down?” Anton asked. Pushing his frame up, he squinted out the back window. “Yeah, I see you now. Are you holding anything?”

  Viviana’s heart sped up at the question. Once she’d asked about her guards beyond just who they were and why he’d chosen them for her, and Anton hadn’t given her much to go on other than he trusted them more than some. When she wondered about drugs, given the occasional smell of pot coming from the back end of the house, he’d shrugged and said he didn’t care so long as they weren’t using anything chemical-wise. It wasn’t like she did, either.