The Score (11 page)

“Not for long. You said it, he’s my son through and through, and if Demyan really likes Gia now, how do you think he’ll feel when he’s older?”

Actually, Demyan’s fondness of the girl was kind of cute, in a kid way. Whenever they were together, he followed Ivan’s youngest daughter around with little interest for anything else. For a toddler, that was quite a feat.

Ivan’s gaze narrowed. “Quit it. Stop distracting me with future nonsense about my daughters. I don’t have to deal with that for at least another ten years.”

“Your oldest is twelve. What do you mean ten years? Get a fucking clue.”

“I hope you have a daughter someday, Anton. Just for that.”

Deciding he’d antagonized his friend enough, Anton asked, “So why is tonight a good night for you to take my son?”

Ivan scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that … Adrik—”

“Fuck no,” Anton interjected, throwing his hand up. “No way. I am not messing around with Jersey again. The Belovs are gone, so any and all contacts between our families is done. Leave it that way.”

“Adrik isn’t a Belov and you know it, man. And, he’s the new boss for Jersey. You haven’t made any effort to—”

“Why would I?”

“Stop interrupting me for a goddamn minute, Anton. Listen, he’s only a year younger than you. From the Jersey side of things, he’s garnered a lot of respect for the way he cleaned house in that family.”

Anton forced himself to hold back his irritation. “Our Bratva doesn’t need to be mixing with Jersey Bratva after everything. Hell, I’m being charged with their old boss’s murder for Christ’s sake. It’s that simple. Leave it alone.”

“I’m not suggesting you should mix business,” Ivan replied carefully. “However, there very well might be some deals Adrik has that could be of use to us for. Like I said earlier, once this trial is done, you’re going to have to take some steps back into the shadows.”

Anton’s mind went silent for an entire thirty seconds. “I hope you’re not suggesting I give any fucking control of my brotherhood to someone who is not an Avdonin.”

“Absolutely not. But, Adrik is looking for something particular, and you will be, too. I think you should sit down with him.”

“And what does my son staying with you have to do with a sit down with Jersey?” Anton wondered.

“Well, he wants to have dinner … with you, your wife, and your son.”

Anton groaned, finally getting the point. “Viviana is in no mood to play the Bratva wife, Ivan. Beyond that, my son has no reason to be a part of it, either.”

“Trust me on this, man. Good thing you have a child-free night to convince Vine, huh? Thank me later.”

Chapter Nine

“Something smells amazing,” Viviana said, dropping her purse to the counter.

Clarissa beamed from the other side. “Dressed herring and kissel for dessert.”

Viviana’s stomach growled at the thought. Kissel was a particular Russian dessert soup both her husband and her son loved. Viviana enjoyed it, too. Despite her skills in the kitchen, she couldn’t seem to get the kissel right, though.

“Are you making those puffy pancake things, too?” Viviana asked.

“
Syrniki
, Vine. Yes, once this is all just about finished, I’ll drop them in the fryer and get the garnish ready. What do you want to top them with, jam, honey, or apple sauce?”

Yeah, the drool was starting to build up in her mouth. Viviana had a certain appreciation for Russian food and if she was asked what she would want for supper, these probably would have been her choices.

“Demyan loves honey on them,” Viviana said, even though her son was spending the rest of the day and night away from home.

Clarissa smiled. “So does his father.”

“Let’s do that, then. You could have called me. I would have come home to help.”

Clarissa waved the comments off. “I think you needed the day out of this house. You look better, not so tired. Anton will like to see that, I’m sure.”

“Really? Because I’m exhausted.”

After a couple of hours at the play park, Eva and Viviana took the kids to a pizza place to eat. After handing Demyan over, Viviana ran a couple of errands that lasted until one in the afternoon. Then, she found herself standing in front of her bookstore. It still made her heart ache.

“Sometimes being exhausted is a good thing,” Clarissa murmured, studiously watching her hands in the dough. “It shows you’ve allowed your mind and body to feel, which means you’re healing.”

Viviana felt like they were talking about something else, now. Nearly a month and a half after her miscarriage, she figured her mind and body had felt enough. She decided to change the subject. “How old were you when you began working for Nicoli?”

Clarissa’s kneading of the dough stopped long enough for her to look up. “I didn’t begin working for him, exactly. I simply changed hands—from one man, to another. It was after, when I knew he didn’t want to hurt or use me, that I began working for him of my own free will.”

“Oh,” Viviana said quietly. “But, how old?”

“Thirty-eight.”

Nicoli died in when he was only sixty-one. “Anton says you two were close.”

Something unknown flashed in the maid’s eyes. “What else does he say?”

“Nothing.”

Viviana’s husband left Nicoli’s private life, especially where women were concerned, locked up tight. What Viviana knew for sure was that her biological father had only one woman he married, to help her and her son leave an abusive marriage and because he grew to care for her, but she died while Anton’s mother was still pregnant for him. A year or so later, Nicoli met Viviana’s mother, Christina. Their relationship was a onetime thing, leading Viviana to believe he probably had more of those.

As far as Clarissa and Nicoli were concerned, that was somewhat of a mystery. Clarissa had not been a free woman, of that Viviana knew for sure. She was also aware her friend and confidant had been treated badly, hurt, and abused before she came to Nicoli’s home. Clarissa didn’t talk about it, and Viviana didn’t push her to.

“I have his journals and things, but they felt clinical …” Viviana trailed off with a shrug.

“And you’ve never really gotten a glimpse inside his head or heart,” Clarissa finished for her.

“No, I suppose not. Was he a nice man?”

“Very. I would say tender, actually, but Nicoli is probably cursing me from the heavens. But, he was also tough. He watched a great deal more than he talked, and some found that unsettling.”

Viviana found herself leaning on the counter, attention captured. “Really?”

Clarissa nodded, a small smile forming. “He wasn’t a loud man, despite his size. Nicoli liked to command, to be in control. He was very regal even at his dirtiest times. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget he was a Russian mob boss and not just a charming, dangerous man.”

“Reminds me of someone else.”

“Doesn’t it?” Clarissa asked, her smile turning into a conspiratorial grin. “I began living with Nicoli when Anton was about ten. Already he was a handful, looking for trouble in corners. The home they lived in was sectioned off into two homes. Nicoli had the smaller bottom section of the house, and they had the top. That boy spent more time downstairs than he did upstairs.”

“Were they always close?”

“Always, from what I remember. Even when Anton was going through his phases as a teen and scaring the life out of his mother. When he would come home late and find the stairwell locked to get up to his home, Nicoli would leave his own door open. I’d wake up in the early morning to find them in the living room talking quietly like they did. While Anton was trying to fly too high, Nicoli helped to keep him grounded.”

Feeling as if she’d gotten a small look inside a man she barely knew, Viviana pushed away from the counter to stand up straight. “Thank you, Clarissa.”

The maid shrugged. “No problem. And Vine …”

“Yes?”

“Nicoli’s home only had two bedrooms. One of which was his office, the other was his room.”

Oh
.

Finally, Viviana had an answer to her question.

“Did you love him?”

Clarissa smiled down into her dough, but tears wet her bottom lashes. “Very much. I was able to give him what was left of me, and he gave me the pieces of him he hadn’t left behind with the others. We were older, had lived, and lost. Certainly not the kind of people who were whole in our hearts. For us, it worked.”

“Others?” Viviana asked, curious.

“His wife. Your mother.”

“He didn’t really know my mother, though.”

Clarissa’s grey eyes held a conviction Viviana couldn’t deny when she said, “That doesn’t mean he didn’t fall in love with her. Now, go get ready for supper. It’ll be done in about an hour.”

“Where’s Anton?”

A floury hand waved towards the upstairs. “Napping, I think.”

Despite Clarissa believing Anton was sleeping, he wasn’t. Viviana entered their master bedroom in just enough time to hear the shower start in the connecting bath. The sound system in the bathroom began as well, a sweet melody echoing out from the space. A song that was nothing like the harsh loudness her husband usually listened to.

Padding quietly across the room, Viviana leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. Anton, inside the shower under the spray of steaming water with his back turned, didn’t seem to notice his wife watching him.

Water wet his dark hair, rolling off his shoulders and down the line of his strong back. The black licks of his tattoo seemed to turn even darker under the wetness. The stars on both his shoulders moved with the flow of his body.

Like this, Viviana loved to watch her husband. Natural, quiet, and free. Every line and curve of his body available for her to see under the glow of the shower spotlights. Anton rolled his neck, placing both hands to the tiled wall and allowed the hot spray to fall on the back of his shoulders.

Visibly, Viviana could see the stiffness leave his tense muscles. Relaxed, his stance took on a more sensual tone. The sexy confidence he usually sported was back in place. But for a brief moment, she had seen his stress.

“You could join me instead of only staring at me,” Anton said so low Viviana strained to hear over the gentle music.

“How long did you know I was standing here?”

“I heard the bedroom door open,” he answered.

Viviana licked her lips, taking a step further into the bathroom. “Did you know Nicoli loved my mother?”

Anton’s shoulders jumped at the question. “I assumed he did, but I never outright asked. It wasn’t my business to, but I knew him. Nicoli didn’t use women. Was he a saint? No, but he was the kind of man who needed a connection with a woman to be with her.”

“Huh. Why didn’t you think to tell me that before?”

“Because your mother loved Roman, even in her anger and hurt. The feelings he had weren’t shared and Nicoli was aware of that, probably. You’re still staring, Vine.”

“I like to stare at you.”

A simple glance over his shoulder, staring through the spray of water, heated Viviana’s insides up to a fever pitch. The blue of his gaze was burning, knowing. “Missed you today, baby.”

“Did you?”

Anton nodded. “I always do, but I’m glad you did something other than clean the house and look at the walls.”

Viviana flinched, ignoring the sadness rushing her veins. “It’s getting better.”

“I noticed. I’m relieved.”

Anton turned around, leaning back into the wall. While the water rushed down in front of him, Viviana’s vision of him wasn’t blurred in the least. The dark trail of hair that led from his navel down to his groin caught her gaze. Between his thighs, his cock hung semi-hard and heavy. Their morning had been interrupted by a phone call and an overzealous Demyan, but she’d had him the night before—twice over, actually. He’d woken her up around three with his teeth scraping along her neck and his fingers working a rough beat between her legs, too.

Still, Viviana’s heart picked up and her lungs stuttered on the intake. Anton was a man, so words like handsome and distinguished should be the first that came to her mind. Instead, Viviana got stuck on words like beautiful and aching. That’s how he made her feel.

“Come join me,” Anton repeated.

“I shouldn’t. Supper is almost ready,” she offered in explanation.

“Not for a while, though. I know what she’s cooking. I didn’t say we were going to fuck.”

Viviana laughed at his brazenness, but she couldn’t hide the shiver of want rolling up her spine, either. They would fuck if she got in the shower with him. Of course they would. Already, desire was pooling in her gut, heating her core. The lace panties she wore were likely damp with arousal.

“We both know it’ll lead to that eventually.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Anton asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“No, I didn’t say that.”

“If I promise to be good, will you come in here and help me wash the sweat I worked up beating the hell out of the punching bag off me, please?”

Viviana couldn’t deny Anton a thing when he asked so nicely. “Fine.”

There was no time wasted on getting undressed. Viviana pulled the elastic holding her hair back in a ponytail free, tossing it to the counter before she stepped into the large stand up shower to join her husband. Without warning, Anton’s fingers were tangled in her hair, bunching the strands up to the back of her neck with a tender touch that took Viviana by surprise. Then, she found her back to the cold wall as Anton stepped between her legs.

“You promised to be good,” Viviana warned breathlessly.

Kisses from his mouth pressed down to her collarbones, up under her neck, and back to her ear. A burning heat began to spread from Viviana’s middle outwards. Anton’s free hand drove down her side, stopping at her hip to grab tight.

“Tell me it’s ever not good with us. You get me so fucking hot. It’s ridiculous.”

“It is always good,” she said in a hum. “But you wanted me to help wash you.”

“I’m a big boy. I’ve been showering alone for years. It’s not my fault you’re gullible, Vine.”

“I am not! I told you what would happen if I got in this shower with you.”

Viviana let her fingers dance down Anton’s chest, feeling his muscles jump under her touch. At his cock, she palmed his length gently, getting him harder, working him up further.

“I was dying up here this morning.” Anton’s tone turned gruffer, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “I think you enjoyed knowing I had to finish myself off, thinking about that sweet mouth of yours. Fucking candy mouth, Vine. Sweet like sugar and it kills you like a poison.”

Viviana laughed breezily. “I could make it up to you and finish that now, if that’s what you were looking for.”

“No,” Anton said with a shake of his head. “Not below me. You know I don’t like seeing you like that.”

Three years of marriage and never once had she sucked his cock on her knees while he stood above her. Anton was a controlling, possessive man, especially in the bedroom. Viviana might not have understood his aversion to seeing her like that, but she respected him and didn’t push his boundaries on it.

“What’s got you so stressed out, huh?” Viviana asked, deciding to distract him from his sexual appetite for a moment. All the while, she kept her hand working a soft beat to his cock, tightening her grip every time she reached the tip of his shaft. Anton shuddered under her motions, but he talked.

“What makes you think I’m stressed out?”

“I’m your wife, I notice things, Anton. Was it that reporter trying to question you this morning?”

“Partly,” he admitted quietly. “It’s a lot of other things, too. I let it pile up instead of handling it.”