by Bethany-Kris
Viviana said nothing in response, instead staring back at him blankly.
“Did you do okay with your insulin to—”
“Hit the bag, Anton.”
“What?” he asked turning on her.
Viviana waved at the punching bag. “Hit it. Isn’t that what you want?”
Yes and no, he thought. The adrenaline was beginning to ebb away. “I don’t know.”
While his body was working on overtime, his mind was starting to shut the fuck down. Anton could feel that familiar coldness seeping into his veins, the desire to shut off his emotions banging through like a drug. It was what the boss did whenever he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, deal. This was one of those times.
But, this was his wife, his life, and his home.
It wasn’t the same.
“Come here,” he demanded, jerking his head at his wife.
Viviana didn’t move. “No.”
“What?”
“I’m not a puppy, or one of your men. You can’t order me around like one, either. Hit your bag, Anton. I’m going to bed.”
It wasn’t a second later that his wife had disappeared, her soft footfalls echoing up the staircase to the first floor. Anton was left stunned and more befuddled than ever. Shit, why did being married have to be so difficult at times?
Anton made his way across the room before taking the stairs two at a time. Following the path Viviana would have taken to their bedroom, he had plenty of time to gather his thoughts about what had just occurred between them and where he went wrong. It probably started with the fact that he knew she had been standing in their basement watching him for over an hour and she didn’t say a thing. He also hadn’t spoken to her during that time. That, for the most part, had been their week in a nutshell.
Anton was still pissed about her hiding the need to start insulin, resulting in his self-imposed silent treatment to his wife. Sure, they spoke here and there, sharing the occasional good morning or kiss goodnight, but it hadn’t gone further than that. In fact, he hadn’t been truly close to his wife all week. Damn, he hadn’t loved her physically once all week, either. That was the longest time since Anton had gotten Viviana back that they hadn’t had some kind of physical intimacy.
Leaning in their bedroom doorway, he took note of the fact that a basket of baby clothes was sitting at the edge of their bed. Cleaned, folded, and waiting to be put away, it looked like Viviana had made herself busy during his time away from the house, anyway.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” Anton said, flinching when the quiet whine of Rocco downstairs said the dog wanted to be brought up with his masters.
“Goodnight, Anton.”
“Viviana—”
“I said goodnight.”
The clipped bite in her words stung his skin like they were exposed nerve endings.
Swallowing his instant mean reply, he brushed off the anger at her rejection. “Why didn’t you tell me about the gestational diabetes the moment you found out? Why, huh? All you had to do was call me, baby. That was it. Just pick up your fucking phone and dial.”
“Is that what all of this is about?” Turning on her heel, Viviana pressed her fists into her hips and glared at him. “Are you still angry with me over that?”
“I’m not angry—” Anton stopped abruptly, because yeah, he was mad. If he considered it, even during their previous argument, he hadn’t once told Viviana he was angry with her for hiding it. He’d said a lot of things, but not that. “Yes. God, yes, I’m so angry with you over that. It’s not a real great thing, Vine. It worries the hell out of me. Do you realize the shit I’ve got going on right now? I blink all of that away when you come into the picture, but when you pull crap like this, I just … it only adds to it.”
“No!” Viviana barked.
Anton felt his spine crack as he stood ramrod straight. “Excuse me?”
“No. I haven’t a clue what you’ve got going on. You haven’t told me anything. You don’t tell me, so how can I?”
Speechless would be an understatement. Anton tried to speak but the words just wouldn’t form. Instead, they lodged in his clenching throat like the proverbial knife twisting in his heart. It certainly didn’t help that Anton suddenly felt like a giant hypocrite. He was frustrated with her for not telling him something important, but wasn’t he doing the exact same thing?
“Say something,” Viviana whispered. “My God, Anton, just talk to me. If you want to yell because I made a shitty choice, do it. Just please stop ignoring me. It hurts.”
Anton released the air he didn’t realize he was holding in. “Daniil is dying.”
Viviana blinked and wet her lips. “That’s not news, babe.”
Her words weren’t meant to hurt, he knew, but they did nonetheless. “No, Vine. Dad—my Papa—is dying. Not my brigadier, or the Bratva’s man, my Papa. I’m going out of my mind over it. I don’t know how to comfort my mother. I want him to know my son and he won’t. I can’t seem to even cry. It aches.
“There’s people photographing you in our backyard and I don’t know who the fuck it is,” Anton continued, fisting his hands at his sides. The pain of his fingernails cutting into his flesh barely even registered. “I thought it was the feds, but it probably isn’t. There’s other crap happening, too, but I don’t want to worry you right now when you’re pregnant. Then, I thought Tati was pulling a stunt, but that’s coming to a dead end, too.”
“That’s why my bulls have been sticking closer, huh?” she asked, frowning.
“Partially,” Anton said. It was a bit of a relief to get some of it off his chest. “I didn’t want to worry you, but it’s starting to worry me. I want you out of state next week. I’m hoping to have a sit down coming up with Sergei, and I don’t want you within a hundred miles of it.”
Viviana didn’t look pleased but she nodded. “Okay.” Then, she looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with tears and beginning to spill over. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, I’m freaking out.”
Her laughter was a sweet balm to his hardened soul. “About what?”
“This,” he said with a wave between them. “I can handle you, being a husband, whatever, but this baby …”
“You’re going to be a great dad.” Viviana smiled to tell him she was being truthful. “I’m sorry Daniil isn’t going to see the payoff of his hard work with his own son, but you know everything is going to be fine, Anton. He raised an intelligent, charming, reliable man. You work loyalty, pride, and love like it’s a second job. He taught you that and Christ, there’s nothing wrong with feeling exposed sometimes. All you have to do is talk to me.”
“I don’t like being angry with you. I don’t get angry with you, Viviana, and now I know why. This week just sucked in a whole bunch of ways.”
She traced the silver comforter on their bed with a single finger, sighing softly. “For me, too.”
*
Letting his words and confessions sink in, Viviana felt an invisible weight fall from her shoulders. All week she’d been tied up in knots because she couldn’t get him past a simple hello, not without that fire in his gaze and heat in his tone. Now, she understood why.
“Where’d you meet up with Ivan and Erik?” she asked, wanting to cool their conversation from the difficult topics a bit.
Anton cleared his throat, shifting on his feet and looking guiltier than she expected. “Velvet Ropes.”
Jealousy raged through her emotions like a wrecking ball, but Viviana forced herself to stay calm. In all truth, her husband never gave her a reason to believe he strayed from their marriage. Anton loved her—she knew it. That didn’t mean she liked him in a place where women took off their clothes for a living.
“Your strip club in Brighton Beach?”
“Yeah, shit, I know you don’t—”
“Did you go there because you were pissed off at me, or what?” Viviana asked, letting the coolness seep into her tenor. She couldn’t hide the hurting shake in her words, either. “God, t
hat’s fucking ridiculous, Anton.”
“No,” he stated, shaking his head. “I had to meet up with Boris about whatever he found out regarding Jersey. The club was closed, so no one was going to be stepping in on the discussion that didn’t need to overhead, okay?”
“But the girls were there?”
Anton’s confusion furrowed his brow. “It was close to opening time, so yeah, of course.”
“Of course,” she mocked. “What, a random restaurant wouldn’t have worked just as well?”
“I needed to speak with Boris. He was working.”
Viviana didn’t even want to hear it. “And I bet you got a nice show all the while huh?”
Anton choked on nothing, his eyes flying wide at her veiled accusation. “What? No, it’s not like that at all.”
When Anton moved forward, Viviana stumbled a full step back. A pained grimace took hold of his features when she said, “I don’t even want to know, Anton. Don’t bother lying, I’d rather you didn’t say anything at all.”
“Oh my God, will you shut up?” he growled. “Chill out with the sensitivity. Why would you assume that I’m going to find the closest pair of tits or pussy that I can and take the girl to bed?”
“Maybe because I’m pregnant, bitchy, and horrible right now?”
Anton was goddamned gorgeous. Six feet tall, built like a brick house, and looks any woman would die over. It wasn’t that Viviana thought girls didn’t notice her husband, but she didn’t like to think about him noticing them.
“We’ve had the worst week together—the hardest since we married. Would it be so crazy for me to think you’re sick and tired of this if you can’t even be bothered to open your mouth and speak to me? You wonder why, Anton? Really?”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because he crossed the space between them in three long strides. His hand fisted into the sweater she wore, tugging her into his chest as a sob caught in her throat.
“Just … stop it. That’s not what it was. I love you. I only want you.” The words were spoken into her hair so strong and sure. When Viviana didn’t say anything, Anton squeezed her tighter. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“It’s ten at night.”
“I know, but I need to do something. I’d really like it if my wife was there with me.”
Viviana didn’t even hesitate. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Pack a bag.”
“A bag?” she asked, feeling his smile curve against her hair.
“Yeah. Whatever we need for a few days.”
Viviana could have argued that he had work to do, that people here needed them, not to mention her classes. They couldn’t simply upheave everything and forget about it just so they could take a minor vacation away from stress and life. Or, could they? She could have just as easily denied the request, but she didn’t want to. Anton hadn’t been hers all week, not like he usually was. If he was offering to give that back to her, however it was that he wanted to do so, she wouldn’t refuse it.
Releasing his hold on her, Anton said, “I have to make a couple of calls, but I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Where are we going?”
Anton shrugged before tugging her closer once more. “Somewhere quiet.”
*
“Anton?”
“Ma, hey.” Anton’s throat felt sore, like someone was tugging an invisible noose tighter and tighter around his windpipe. He barely noticed the cars he passed on the highway, but the sleeping form beside him in the passenger seat had every damned bit of his attention. “Is Daniil awake?”
“Not really,” Sasha said. “He’s in and out mostly. They just administered more of his pain medication an hour ago.”
“Will he talk, though?”
“For you, always. You know that. But I don’t want to wake him, he had a rough day.”
“Dial the meds back. Please, you know I wouldn’t ask otherwise. Just enough for him to get on the phone. I need to talk to him for a minute.”
Sasha seemed like she was going to argue but then agreed instead. Maybe the desperation Anton was feeling had been manifesting in his voice. The quieter things grew around him, the louder he could hear his thoughts beginning to scream. He had too much time to think about the things happening in his life on this drive. Viviana had fallen asleep within thirty minutes of pulling out of their driveway, so he didn’t have her to distract him.
The only person he figured he could talk to was his father. Daniil would understand; he always had.
“I’ll call you back,” Sasha said. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but don’t make him fret, Anton. I know you think he doesn’t worry, but right now, that’s all he ever does.”
His mother hung up without another word. Overwhelmed, Anton tugged the Bluetooth out of his ear and dropped it to his lap. Without his mother’s voice in his ear, the car had turned silent again except for Rocco’s gentle huffs from the back seat and Viviana’s occasional mumble. There was another three hours of driving before he reached his destination, so Anton could wait for his father to get up and around.
He also didn’t know why he chose the lodge in Vermont, but it had been the first thing that popped into his head when he asked his wife to leave with him. It was always a safe place for his family. They had made some of the best memories there, especially when he was growing up.
Maybe that’s what he was chasing, or it could have just been what he needed.
Forty silent minutes later, the cell and Bluetooth in Anton’s lap began vibrating with a call. Placing the earphone back in his ear, he switched the call on but couldn’t bring himself to speak as he listened to the shallow, painful breaths of his father on the other end of the receiver.
Anton didn’t have to say a thing, anyway. Daniil just seemed to know. “Ant, whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
The tears in his eyes made the road in front of him bleed together in the shine of the headlights. “Papa …”
“Jesus, you haven’t called me that in years,” Daniil coughed out.
“I know. I’m sorry I stopped. I just—”
“Grew up,” his father interrupted with a stronger voice than before. “You grew up, Anton, like every boy does. It just so happened you grew up a little quicker than others. I didn’t mind; it was amazing to watch you do it. My son became a great man—strong inside and out. Would I have given up who you are now to have you see me as your daddy for a few more years? No. Your mother always thought we made you like this, but we didn’t. You did it all by your own choice, and I just let you while the rest of us watched. It’s okay, son. Everything is fine.”
No, no it isn’t, Anton thought anxiously.
“I think someone is planning to come in on me.” Anton’s gaze slid to the sleeping girl beside him. The last thing he needed was for Viviana to hear him confessing his worries that someone was going to make an attempt on his life. “Someone close to me. That’s how it always is, Dad. It has to be somebody close, I just can’t figure out who. Or maybe I don’t want to. It’s probably staring me right in the face but I’m too fucking close to these guys so I can’t see it objectively.”
“Whoa, slow down,” Daniil whispered.
Even the words felt painful and Anton immediately felt guilty for waking his father up for this. The cancer his father was suffering from was constantly eating away at his body and strength. Anton didn’t want to take any more from his father than what the sickness already had.
“Someone’s going to make a move on me. I know it. They’re screwing around with my wife but only in ways that I see it so that it bothers me because it’s personal shit. Slashed her tires, Dad. Taking pictures of her when she’s at home. Tatiana has been around, but I think she’s just playing her old tricks. Even those fucking Italian scum heard things might be changing in the brotherhood soon. It’s messing with my head.”
For a long while, Daniil was silent. “What did Nicoli always tell you about this?”
“I don’t know. I can’t
even think right now.”
“Goddamn it, Anton, yes you do.”
“It’s always somebody close,” Anton replied, forcing himself to say it. He didn’t want to think what that meant, honestly. His spies were the closest anyone was ever going to get to him, next to his own wife, of course. “That’s what Nicoli would have said. To look at your sides first and then go outward. I was with them today, Daniil. Ivan and Erik … I can’t see it. It’s because I’m too close to them, isn’t it?”
“No. That’s not it at all. You’re not seeing it because it isn’t there.”
“It is!”
Viviana mumbled unhappily in her sleep, and Anton cursed himself silently. When his wife was settled, he sighed in both relief and worry and went back to his call.
“It’s there, Dad. I can feel it. Something is coming.”
“I’m not saying it’s not happening at all, I’m just saying it’s not there with your spies, boy.”
Now, Anton was just confused. “But—”
“Erik is a complacent fucker,” Daniil said sharply. “He likes access to the money and he works the cash well. What he doesn’t want is the responsibility of making it, Anton. He’s also loyal to a damned fault, ask anybody. You just happen to be the one he’s loyal to. There isn’t enough money in this world to make him bite the hand that feeds him, not when he likes that hand.”
“And Ivan?”
Daniil barked a sour laugh. “Really, Ant? You have to think about that at all? My God, that man is only in the Bratva for you. Saved his fucking life when you were just fourteen. I would have blown his brains out the night he screwed up my guys’ steal on that truck had you not been there. He owed you then and he owes you now. Give him the chance to save your life too someday, huh?”
That much was true. It was also the exact reason why Anton couldn’t see the possibility of his two spies being the ones who were planning to off him.
“Am I making a big deal out of this?” Anton asked. “Am I just paranoid because Vine’s pregnant and life is changing for me, or what?”
“No,” Daniil said softly. “Absolutely not. You don’t get paranoid. Nicoli practically culled all of that nonsense right out of you growing up. If you worry, you have a reason to. He taught you to think logically first. Made you look around and consider everything before you chose your path. This isn’t any different. He gave you Ivan and Erik because they were the best for you. Look outward from your sides, Anton, that’s what you have to do now. It’s not them, I’m sure of it.”