by Bethany-Kris
With the two silver security briefcases placed safely to the floor, Richard crossed the room and leaned down to place a kiss on Anton’s cheek as the younger man patted the back of his neck in response. It was a common sign of respect, one he knew Viviana would have seen before with her father, but not one she had gotten to witness properly played out with him.
Richard cocked a brow, meeting Anton’s gaze as the paperwork was tossed aside. “Are you slacking again, boy?” The thickness in his accent hung off every syllable. More often than not, he’d use Russian to speak to Anton, but because of Viviana’s presence, he chose to use a language she would understand, too. “Nicoli would be in a terrible fit seeing his little prince slumming it in the office with his fiancée instead of doing actual work.”
“I am working …”
“Sure.”
“On more important things,” Anton finished with a smirk.
“Ah, well, at least your priorities are getting straightened out. I can assume that’s because of this pretty little thing, here? It’s Viviana, yes?”
“That’s me.”
Richard’s steel-grey eyes turned on the woman who had crossed her legs and kept quiet while the Bratva boss was greeted. For a single moment, Anton knew what the older man was doing. Searching those eyes and features like he had done so many times before, looking for the clue that gave away who she really was behind the Italian name and mob boss father. Being the friend that Richard had been to Nicoli for all those years, he knew his step-grandfather wouldn’t have held back that secret from him.
The quiet exhale of Richard’s breath as he straightened was enough for Anton. The lump in his throat disappeared. “Very pleased to meet you, sweetheart. You’ve had this lazy prince here making me run for three weeks.”
Viviana glanced at Anton out of the corner of her eye as he brushed her wavy hair off her shoulder. “Three weeks?”
“This …” he said, waving at Richard with a smug grin, “is my jeweler, Viviana. And I do believe he has only the best for you, right, Richard?”
“Absolutely.”
The slight drop in her jaw had him chuckling. “You didn’t.”
“I did, baby. I thought I was clear when I said I had things planned for you today.”
“It’s your birthday,” she said pointedly.
Anton hummed, shrugging as he lifted himself off the couch. “Yeah, but making you smile is my greatest gift. Come, it’s time to pick out a ring for me to put on that finger of yours.”
One of the silver briefcases was propped up on the oak desk and opened with a set of keys. Viviana’s soft gasp whispered in Anton’s ears. He didn’t blame her a bit. The engagement rings Richard had brought along certainly outdid just about any he could have personally picked. There hadn’t been many requests from Anton regarding the rings, and he’d left the rest up to the older man to decide. And decide he had. Ranging from simplistic designs to some of the most intricately laid pieces he’d ever seen, Anton was quite literally struck quiet, too.
Twenty rings sat resting in black velvet, the shimmer of light reflecting off the carefully cut diamonds and gems. Between the rows, a particular piece caught Anton’s eye. In the middle of a white gold band sat a blue sapphire, five carat princess cut gem, encased with a solid crown of clear diamonds. He hadn’t asked for color, but there was something about that ring that drew his attention above the others.
“Very nice,” he appraised quietly. “I quite like these.”
Richard’s hand hit the spot between Anton’s shoulder blades and the older man laughed. “I hoped you would.”
“Never failed me before,” Anton replied. Viviana made a sound under her breath, almost turning into a skittish deer at the sight of so many jewels. “See anything you like?”
“Um …”
“Pardon me, Vine?”
“Yes. Oh, they’re beautiful.”
That awed look had replaced her initial shock as her fingers hesitantly danced over the sides of the case, but never once coming near any of the rings.
“You can touch them, sweetheart,” Richard said gently. “They are meant for you to wear, or at least one of them, anyway. All sized specifically for you, so you needn’t worry about that. Take your time if you need to.”
Once more, Viviana looked back at Anton, and he could see the battle warring there. It was quite a selection, and if he had to guess, she was probably wondering which ring he wanted to see on her finger.
“I really wanted you to choose without my input,” Anton murmured, hoping she’d understand. “Sometimes it might seem like you have so little control on everyday things, and you have to wear this ring, not me. If you want something small, go with that. If you want something that looks fit to be on a queen, go ahead. It’s all on you, Vine.”
When her trembling fingers ghosted over the case once more, Anton sighed, moving to her side. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as his lips met her temple and he added, “We’ll leave you to go at it.”
“What? No, you can’t let me choose alone, Anton.”
“I’ve already chosen the bands. They’ll arrive next week. Just … do this for me, okay? It’ll make me incredibly happy, and that way, I know the ring you’ll wear is one you truly love.”
Viviana didn’t say a word, simply shook her head and glanced down with an audible swallow. The second, unopened case was passed into Anton’s grasp before the men left the office. When the door was shut, Richard laughed a low sound when another one of those quiet, disbelieving noises came from inside the office.
“You’ll spoil that girl if you keep up with all this sweet nonsense,” he said with a joking spirit. “Doesn’t she have the slightest clue of the kind of man you are beneath the charm, Anton?”
“She does, not that it matters. Couldn’t hurt her if I tried.”
“Ah, I see. Knowing Nicoli like I did, well … That makes me a very happy old man.”
“The sapphire band, you chose that one for its likeness to this, hmm?” Anton asked, lifting the silver case in his hand. What lay inside was a gift that had been held in the jeweler’s trust for many years, under instructions Anton hadn’t been privy to other than the basics of when he was to give it to Viviana, and why. The older man didn’t deny his claim about the similarity statement. “And you placed it just so, I think, hoping it would catch my eye first.”
“Not just yours,” Richard said, smiling slyly. “If I know women like I think I do, she will pick that band because it was where your gaze traveled first. She will pick it because when her hand touches your face, the piece will compliment your eyes. And, it is more than appropriate enough in style, size, and design to be worn on the hand of your wife, Anton.”
“A ring that by extension compliments me. I hadn’t even considered that.”
Richard nodded, expression darkening with pensiveness before his words turned to Russian. “But her eyes, my boy, they’re all his.”
His suddenly shaking fists hid inside his pockets. “I know.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What is this?”
Anton smiled at the confusion in his lover’s voice as the car slid to a slow stop in a paved driveway. “My … our home.”
“It is?”
“Yep. I tried to buy it not long after I turned twenty, but Nicoli ended up giving it to me instead. This was his gift, I suppose.” That, and a dozen other things he wasn’t about to mention. “The locale is perfect.”
That surprised look was back on her face, cheeks sweetening with a touch of pink behind the carefully applied makeup. Anton couldn’t exactly blame her. The two level, modern house in the gated Brighton Beach community of Oceana was quite a sight. It was bigger than most on the block. A stone wall fence kept the corner property from having unwanted guests walking over the manicured grass, and not only was the location beautiful, and expensive, but it was also smart. Given the large bay windows on the top floors, Anton could see just about anybody coming for miles.
For all intents and purposes, the safe house located right in the heart of Brooklyn had been the perfect residence and spot for the Bratva boss to do his business and keep Viviana as safe as possible. But with the danger slowly beginning to ebb and his desire to return to his own home rising, the draw of their pseudo-home was starting to fade. She had yet to see where they would be living after the wedding, and considering they had a couple of hours before they needed to return to the club for his birthday party, he figured now was as good of a time to show her as any.
“I need to change my shirt. It doesn’t match your shoes,” he said, glancing down at the heels in question. They still had his body and mind in all kinds of turmoil, so just as quickly, he looked away. “And I didn’t want to drive all the way back to the safe house. Come on, Vine.”
The hand that touched his wrist stopped Anton from exiting the vehicle. Sunlight caught the glittering blue of the sapphire ring she now wore. It reflected a dance of light across his shirt. He’d kissed her deeply as he slid that band down her finger. His nerves only grew as he realized his hand had been trembling. But damn, doing that, and then seeing it, hadn’t been at all what he was expecting. It was so much more.
Now, the torn expression she sported had his heart beating into a worried frenzy.
“What is it?”
“I … well, is it like the safe house?”
It wasn’t. The home in Oceana had a great deal less in the safety feature department because it was his personal residence. Anton tried to keep as many weapons out of the home as possible, though there were a few handguns hidden in choice spots just in case. Little to no Bratva business was done inside or around the property, as all the phones were constantly tapped by the feds, and a federal car was usually close by monitoring his private activities.
“No, not really. That’s why we’ve stayed elsewhere for so long, because it’s safer for the bulls to keep an eye on you there while I’m working away from the safe house.”
“No, I meant business-wise, Anton.”
“Oh,” he drawled softly. “No way. Nothing in this house is off limits to you, not a single thing. There is a safe in the basement and one in my office that really don’t concern you, but you’ll have access to them if you want. None of my associates other than Erik and Ivan will make an appearance here. On a private scale, this is, in every way that counts, our home. The business will not intrude here, and I have kept it that way for as long as I can remember. That’s why there are other places, like the safe house, where certain precautions are already in place for other … things.”
Her brown eyes lifted to meet his as she asked, “Promise?”
“Yeah, of course.” Then Anton felt the need to explain a little more, wanting her to understand just how much of a distance he kept between his home and outside life. “Also, no one else was invited here, Viviana. I didn’t share this space with anyone other than family and close friends.”
The befuddled look had him sighing. “Women,” he stressed. “I did not bring a woman to this home. Ever.”
“No?”
“Not one.”
In fact, he never took another woman beyond wherever it was she caught his eye, honestly. The backseat of a car, in a dirty alleyway, or the hidden hallway of a club. No, Anton was quite clear with all of those women about just what he wanted or needed from them, and it wasn’t to invite them back to his home to spend the night. He simply assumed if he didn’t give them any impression that he was searching for more, they wouldn’t come knocking. So far none had, and he was grateful.
Viviana Carducci had been the first and only woman to sleep in his bed; she would be the last, too. None could ever look quite so good under his sheets with her head resting on his arm and her eyes closed, so he wasn’t going to try and replace that feeling with someone who wasn’t her.
The faint scent of her perfume had all but coated his car and lungs with its floral smell, overtaking him in the best way. That pink stain on her lips popped with the same color that naturally rose to her cheeks when she was happy, loved, or sad. Sometimes, it was the small things with her that caught him up in emotions he wasn’t used to experiencing. Without thinking anymore about it, Anton leaned over the console of his Mercedes, cupping her jaw in his grasp and pulling Viviana in close to his face so lips grazed over hers as he spoke in low, hushed tones.
“I love you and you love me, yes?” An almost dazed nod had him smiling. “That’s all that matters, then. I’ve been dying to see how you’d look walking through our home. That little dress you’ve got on, that ring on your finger, and those shoes are going to be the death of me if I don’t get you out of this car so I can think and breathe for a moment, so let’s go.”
“All right, you insatiable man. Let’s go.”
• • •
“So, what do you think?”
Viviana jumped in fright, not having realized Anton returned from the master bedroom’s attached bath. Turning away from the large window where she was looking down on the quiet, fenced backyard, she offered him a fake scowl for scaring her. Anton only grinned teasingly in response.
Basically, he left her alone to search out the basement, ground, and upper floors while he went to change his shirt. And explore she had. There was no doubt about it; she absolutely loved the home.
Fresh, white walls in every direction with high ceilings and bright lighting, it felt open and clean. Where the safe house was equipped with barely any personal touches on the walls, this home held artwork, family photos, and mementos of years gone by everywhere she looked. Instead of high priced, modern furniture that suited a group or gathering, the rooms were filled with comfortable pieces that fit the house and person inside it.
Spacious enough, but not ostentatious.
Relaxed, but not lazy.
Professional where it needed to be, sweet where she would want it to be, and homey in all the spots in between, Viviana was struck speechless. It felt like … home. It had been so damned long since she felt that. Despite not having been directly in his life when the property was purchased, she had to wonder if she had somehow been considered in its choosing, too.
And then there was the matter of what she had been learning about her future husband during her travels through the home. Anton liked baseball, and she’d come to find out he played his first three years in high school. He had a propensity to collect knickknacks, take candid photos, and there were at least three stashes of candy she’d found so far. The basement was fully furnished, equipped with an at home gym in one area, and what Viviana would consider a man cave in another. Several entertainment systems, a flat screen TV, and a massive DVD collection told her it was likely one of his favorite spots in the house.
“Hey, the house?” Anton asked again, taking a step forward as his mouth curved with a gentle smile. Viviana turned back to look out the window again. “You’ve got me nervous over here, baby. I’m not used to feeling that way.”
“Well …”
“Well?”
“What did you mean when you said you wanted to buy it, but then Nicoli gave it to you?”
“I was starting to look for a house … was just made a brigadier. Looked for months because I wanted it to be perfect, you know?”
“Yeah, and it kind of seems like it is.”
“It is. But, when I finally found a house—this one—the owners refused to sell to me.”
“What?”
Viviana turned on her heel, staring at the man leaning in the small entranceway of the master bedroom that had her all worked up into an emotional mess. The tiny cubby that looked like it may have once been a second walk-in closet had drawn her attention immediately when she entered the room, considering ther
e was nothing in it but sheer curtains covering the window and two white leather chairs.
That certainly wasn’t what that room should have been used for with its miniature vaulted ceilings, natural light, and quiet setting compared to the rest of the house. While the room had its own attached bath and a decent sized walk-in closet, Viviana knew exactly what the small, comfortable, intimate cubby inside the master bedroom was meant for.
“They wouldn’t sell to you, specifically? Why?”
“Nope. Told the realtor there was no way they would sell their house to a gangster.” Anton scoffed, rolling his eyes upwards. “Didn’t matter when I offered two hundred thousand above their asking price and then doubled that again. Just no—real fucking simple. I was outright devastated about it. You were just turning eighteen, your father was getting ready to make the arrangement between our two families public, and I wanted you with me so badly by then.”
“How did Nicoli get it, then?”
“The bastard planned it,” Anton said, laughing. “Made me find the house I wanted, paid off the realtor and the owners to keep their mouths shut, and then bought it for me as a birthday gift. I was pissed off like nothing else, but he just sat there and smiled as he handed the keys over. Made his year.”
“I really like this house.”
The smile that lit up his face had her heart skipping beats. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, shrugging a single shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess it feels like home. Ours, really, even if I haven’t been living in it. I didn’t expect that and it scared me for a second.”
Anton’s teeth bit into his lower lip as his fists hid in pockets. It was an action she now recognized as him being nervous. “Why? Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”
Viviana didn’t know how to respond, instead avoiding his gaze and fingering the sheer curtain’s fabric between her forefinger and thumb. There were so many things about the house that reminded her of the home she grew up in, and a million and one other things that screamed it was entirely different. Soft blankets on a California king sized bed that brought back heady, hot memories of similar bedding in a Barbados beach house.