The Arrangement (7 page)

“What’s so different between now and nine years ago?” Sasha asked, not skipping a beat. “You were so taken by him then, has that really all changed? I seem to remember sending you off from Barbados with your mother while your father stayed behind. You never questioned that, did you?” At Viviana’s confused look, Sasha chuckled and winked. “You assumed what happened that night between you both went unnoticed, but I can assure you that it did not. Your father wasn’t pleased; Anton certainly learned the meaning of respect that day between his grandfather, his own father, and Roman.”

A pink blush heated her cheeks. Feeling choked, Viviana asked, “Did they …?”

“No,” she replied with a wave. “Just yelled a lot, like men do. Between the Russian, the English, and the Italian, I couldn’t keep up. Still, Anton stood his ground, spoke for himself like he needed to when it counted the most. He wanted
you
, Vine, and he told them that. Not because of the things they’d done, the nonsense they agreed on, or because they told him he had to, but because he wanted you to be his.

“You understood Anton, why he sometimes seemed aloof and distanced, how his own life would come later because of the family. You knew how to act, did all the things that would be expected of you, but yet, you were still this happy girl who could make it seem like her father wasn’t on the FBI’s watch list; like you weren’t the daughter of a mafia boss. Anton wanted a girl who could be just her without the rest because he was still trying to learn how to be just him in the middle of chaos.”

Zoning in on a loose thread on the blanket, Viviana considered her words. “What would you do?”

“Had my marriage been arranged, I would not have been able to
do
anything.” Sasha made a noise under her breath, lips pursing. “How about I ask you something, hmm? Say you married some man, any man—he doesn’t have to be affiliated—and went on your merry way. You still have the family to consider, dangerous men who have their necks on a block every single day. You remember what it was like growing up, don’t you? As a girl, when something would happen, your father would whisk your mother, brother, and you away for weeks at a time until the dust had cleared and it was safe to come back again. Who will do that for your children?”

Viviana went to speak, but Sasha stopped her by lifting her hand. “Think about what I am telling you. It does not matter that you married a man who isn’t involved, or that you no longer speak to your relatives and have no connection to their dealings. It makes no difference to the men who will take you or your children and hurt you while they wait for a payment that will never come because you mean nothing to your family. But your death would, you see? Your death is a slap to their face, an insult to their beliefs and understanding.

“So go, Vine,” she said, shrugging. “Marry a man you might eventually love, one who will give you children and a nice home. Hope that you will fly under the radar of the men you aren’t protected from, but who are always watching from the shadows. Friends are enemies here, that’s what you were taught first. Trust no one and keep your love guarded.” Sasha motioned towards the still sleeping man on the couch, her eyes growing soft as she smiled. “It was a good match, you and him. I’ve seen arranged marriages that destroyed more than you could ever understand, but you and my son … it wouldn’t have been like that. You caught his eye from the moment he understood how easy it would be to love you.”

• • •

Anton grumbled, rolling over and feeling about as uncomfortable as he could on the couch given his size. More grumbles followed, his body shifting again and again to try and find a spot he liked, but coming up with nothing. Defeated, he rubbed his face, eyes blinking as he stared blankly at the sunlight filtering into the room. He cussed low and blinked again, taking in his surroundings.

A form near the bed clouded his tired vision, a hand patting his head as she passed. Anton knew then it was his mother. Sasha was affectionate like any mother, but still quick to give him privacy and space. Had she known Viviana had made it to the safe house the day before, she probably wouldn’t have been in his room at all.

“Good morning. Try not to be so loud today, hmm? Your father needs to rest; the infection in his lungs is taking a toll. Take Rocco to the park or something later—you’re starting to get cabin fever.”

“I’m fine.” Placing his gun on the cushion, his mother didn’t blink at the firearm. He rolled his wrists, working out the kinks. “I have things to handle today, anyway.”

“Ant …”

“
Ostanovit
.”

Stop
, he’d told her. While he let his mother get away with occasionally mothering him in private, he wasn’t in the mood for it then.

“Fine.”

Without another word, she was gone and the door closed softly behind her. Anton stayed quiet as he stood, stretching out his arms and turning away from the woman sitting back on his bed. “You were crying in your sleep last night,” he said to Viviana. “I didn’t want to get into the bed and freak you out, so I called Rocco up. You stopped when he laid down by the bed.”

“Where is he?”

Anton squinted at the watch on his wrist. “Clarissa is probably giving him food. I told you he keeps a schedule. If you want, I could have her accompany you on Rocco’s walk while I go out to the club.”

“Is that safe?”

“For now,” he replied. “If a breach happens, there’s protocol to follow. Ivan can explain that when he comes over later in the week.”

“Why not you?”

Anton turned then, meeting her gaze with a cold stare. “I have business to handle. These are things I can’t explain outside of a marriage bed, you know that, Viviana.”

“Clarissa, she’s the maid?”

“She worked in Nicoli’s home for many years. They had a close relationship, and she’s very loyal to us because of it. She was not a free woman like you are. He protected her from that in his own way. Seems he had a thing for saving the broken.”

The choice in wording he used wouldn’t be missed, Anton knew. Like the Cosa Nostra, the Bratva was also known to deal in human trafficking, despite his particular branch of the brotherhood keeping their hands far away from all of that.

“Oh.”

The quiet tenor Viviana adopted said she hadn’t missed his implication at all.

“She’s better here with me than somewhere else,” he offered. “Her earlier life makes working with others she doesn’t trust difficult. Clarissa is free to leave if she wishes, but she likes it here, knows she’s safe, and she’s good with Rocco, so … ”

“You don’t have to explain, Anton.”

The honesty in her statement struck him silent. His gaze lifted, meeting hers again. “I know, but I wanted to. I wouldn’t ever hide things like that from you.”

For a brief moment, it seemed as though she couldn’t speak, but when she did, she struck him speechless again.

“Okay…I’ll marry you.”

Anton stared at her for what felt like hours before he swallowed hard and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Do you think I’ll change my mind if we stand here looking at each other for long enough?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he felt torn. The last thing he wanted to do was force her into it, despite his veiled threats the night before. They had been nothing but a lie. Was marriage really what she wanted with him?

A hoarse sound escaped his throat. “You’re sure that this is what you want, Viviana …
Positive
?”

Pushing blankets off her form, she moved from the bed to stand. Anton stood stock-still, watching as she pawed through a small pile of folded clothes he’d placed at the end of the bed. It was her clothing, stuff that Boris had brought back from the dorm. Nothing much, but enough to do her for a short while.

“Thank you for getting these. I don’t mind your shirts,” she said tugging on the end of the one she wore with a grin. “But, they’re a little big.”

“I couldn’t keep the stuff you arrived in. They needed to be destroyed, so I hope you weren’t attached to anything in particular. The guys managed to do one thing right when they packed you a bag. It’s in my closet, but anything else you need, we can buy. Your dorm was … ruined.”

Viviana coughed nervously. “And?”

“You were seen entering your dorm the night before with a friend, distraught and in a hurry. A family emergency called you back to the States. In your rush, you left a small space heater turned on, which set a blanket on fire the next afternoon and then burned down half the wing. At least that’s what the report will say. Damages will be paid in full. The university won’t want to speak with you as you’ll be … indisposed … due to said family issues, and you’re not expected to return there.”

Anton checked his watch before continuing. “Also, you’ll have a short interview over the phone with a fire marshal named Dick Stevens, and an RCMP officer by the name of Ronnie McCloud with the usual questions, approximate times, and whatever other nonsense they feel like handling. During the interview, you’ll be properly distressed over what happened, make several apologies for the recorder to hear, and show an appropriate level of guilt in regards to your irresponsible actions.”

“Okay,” she said, turning to grab the clothes.

“Just okay?” He was surprised she’d take that all so easily. Anton moved to Viviana’s side, wanting to be closer. His hand curved around her arm as his thumb swept a line back and forth at the crease of her elbow. Heat bloomed at the touch, saturating his senses with an onslaught of memories and need. “You don’t have any questions?”

Automatically, like second nature or an extension of his mind’s desires, she covered his hand with her own to calm the clear apprehension in his voice. At her touch, Anton stiffened, his thumb stopping its movements against Viviana’s skin. Despite having his hands on her bare legs the night before, this was different. Much, much different. It was intimate, so familiar in how neither of the two hesitated in wanting to reassure the other. As if they’d done this before … maybe.

Old souls
…

She seemed to struggle to breathe as they both stared down at their connected hands. “Yes, just okay. I’ll do the interviews when I need to, act how you suggested, and give whatever answers they need to hear. Nothing happened, right? A friend, a family emergency, and my forgetful self somehow managed to leave a heater running. How terrible, but nothing more than a mistake. I can handle that, Anton. I can.”

“Why?” he murmured, fingers squeezing lightly at the question. She shrugged, clearly confused at what he was asking. Anton moved closer still, lips finding her temple as his free arm wrapped around her waist. With her close to his side, he felt at home. “Why are you agreeing to marry me when last night you wanted me to let you go?”

Turning in his embrace, Viviana faced him. With no men around to see where his weakness truly lay, Anton knew there was an honest vulnerability written in the way he held her tighter. If he didn’t hold on, she might disappear. Ridiculous, yes, but he’d waited so fucking long for this girl.

“You were right … I knew I wasn’t safe—that I probably wouldn’t ever be,” she replied quietly. “Like tied down, you know? I felt trapped, so I got to this point where I didn’t have to think about it. I was just trying to get from point A to point B without worrying about who was following behind.”

“That’s still not an answer, Viviana.”

She poked his chest with a finger. “Remember that night in Barbados?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, heat rushing through his blood. “Of course I do, can’t forget it. Sweet sixteen, tanned legs, and you made me yours so fast …” Anton trailed off with a low whistle. “One of my very best memories.”

“I’ve never been serious with someone.” Viviana released his hand and covered the mark on her neck with a frown. While he didn’t have room to judge her on those choices, he hated the position she put herself in with that bodyguard. “I’ve done things—”

Anton’s dismissive sound interrupted her. No way was he going to let her feel badly. “Me, too. Who came after and the in-betweens didn’t matter. I told you that, and I meant it.”

“Two meetings in all those years; that’s all we got. We weren’t allowed to see each other or keep contact in between. You were just a short drive away. There didn’t have to be other people at all.”

Two meetings, yes, but there were reasons for that. And one of those meetings had been when they were just children.

“It wasn’t safe,” he reminded gently. “Once the arrangement was out in the open, you witnessed how dangerous it turned for your father.”

“Regardless, I still felt tethered to something that I knew was out there, but just wasn’t with me yet. That’s why I couldn’t keep someone close to me, or bother going farther than just the bedroom.”

“I’m sorry?”

Anton’s confusion only led to amusement glittering in the beautiful brown eyes looking up at him. Oh God, those eyes … so familiar, yet so new. Already, he was reconsidering old promises he’d made to dead men.

“Tied down again, tethered to you.” She pointed at his chest, smiling as she said, “As if you were exactly where I was always supposed to end up someday. A moth and a flame, that’s how I felt—drawn to you. Even after my family was buried and I was told this wouldn’t happen, I still couldn’t manage to keep a relationship because it wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t even know you, not really, but all I’d ever been told was that you were going to be mine. It never felt
arranged
, Anton, not once.”

Her fingers traced the vines drawing up his arm before crossing the black rose that covered his right pec. He was so enjoying the silky feeling of her touch when Viviana added, “And clearly I’ve always been yours, too.”

Maybe his cold heart stuttered just a bit—missing, skipping beats when he grasped her jaw and tilted her head back up to look her in the eyes. “
Always
, Viviana.”

“I’m scared,” she confessed softly. “This was intended to be an easy transition for me. Instead, I watched your men shoot my bodyguard, kidnap me, and now I’m in hiding. That’s not how this was supposed to happen.”