The Life (27 page)

Chapter Twenty

“
Mmm, but I don’t want to go.”

Viviana laughed, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Anton’s mouth to quiet up his complaining. He took five days away from being boss and spent every single one of them with her and
Demyan. She was grateful that he had taken that time with him, but now he needed to get back to his work.

After three days of being in the hospital, both
Viviana and Demyan were released to go home. The first night alone with a newborn had surely been the hardest. They woke up to the sounds of him choking only to find Demyan had swallowed his own saliva down the wrong hole. That had been terrifying, never mind the fact that the poor baby cried until he turned himself red all over. He hadn’t slept nearly as well at home as he did in the hospital. Anything new was just as scary as it was exciting.

Clarissa was there to help, thank God, and Sasha made an effort to come over once a day to check on things, but being new parents was definitely a learning curve.

“Let me take him with me, Vine.”

“What are going to do, huh?’ she asked teasingly, poking Anton’s chest. “
Breastfeed him?”

“That’s why we bought those bottles that were forty dollars apiece, baby.”

Sure, that was true enough, but Demyan took just fine to the breast. They didn’t need to bottle feed him. Viviana wasn’t going to confuse her son by starting to pump and feed with bottles. She didn’t mind the late nights with several feedings, or the cluster feedings before bed. No, none of that bothered her a bit.

She loved her son. Adored him to the moon and back. He was her little prince.

“Go, Anton. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Anton frowned. “But will you be okay?”

Viviana wasn’t offended by him asking. Essentially, it would be her first day alone with Demyan. Someone else had always been around to help if she was unsure about something, but even Clarissa was out of the house running errands for most of the morning and afternoon.

“I’ll be fine,” Viviana said. “Call me when you … Wait, what are you doing today?”

Anton shrugged. “Business, like usual. A meeting with the guys. Nothing too big.”

Viviana’s smile dissipated. He seemed awfully nonchalant for it just being simple business. Anton had yet to mention a thing to her about Joe, or what came after, and he didn’t say a thing about the dinner or the mysterious fire at the restaurant she had seen on the news.
Six dead, three of which had been identified while the other three bodies were still waiting for confirmation.

Tossing a peek to her son out of the corner of his eye, Viviana seen he was still snug tight in a Moses basket. The baby was content and sleeping. Now, she had to consider him every time Anton left the house as well. Would Anton be back for
Demyan, too?

“Vine, hey,” Anton murmured. “What’s wrong?”

“Just your guys, right?” she asked.

“Who else would I need to handle right now?”

“Jersey, maybe.”

Understanding dawned on Anton’s features. “That’s not happening for another month or more. They’ve got their own mess to handle, and I don’t think they plan on coming back on us for anything. I did what was necessary. That was all. I didn’t break any rules, especially since Sergei was already planning to come in on me. They’d have done the same.”

“They tried, Anton. It failed. Someone very well might be pissed off and looking for their revenge.”

“The new
Pakhan is going to clean house, starting with his own. It’s not your business to be worrying about it, anyway. You’re not Bratva, you’re a wife.”

“Of a
Bratva
boss
,” she said a little hotly. “So yes, I get to worry, Anton.”

“Please don’t do this with me right now. I don’t want to leave and you
be angry.”

Viviana took a cleansing breath, hoping it would help her rising anger. At times her emotions still ran hot and cold. It didn’t help that Viviana was tired and she knew Anton was, too. Despite her not needing him to get up with their son in the middle of the night, several times, he did anyway. Anton never complained. Instead he crawled into bed beside her, buried his face into her neck while she fed
Demyan, and kept her awake with words and teasing kisses.

Anton was a great husband, and an even greater father. Actions spoke much louder than words and Anton was full of them, on both accounts. His mornings were spent fawning over
Demyan and lavishing the same attention he had always showered on his wife. His evenings, when the baby slept, were spent at her side, with her in his arms as they relaxed together.

Viviana couldn’t have picked a better man to be her partner and lover in life.

Fighting with Anton was the last thing she wanted to do. He didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry,” Viviana said. “But I do worry. I can’t help it.”

“So, you’re not angry with me?”

“No, I’m not angry, but you seem to forget the spot I’m in here, too.”

“Come here,” he said huskily, grasping her wrists and pulling her into his warm chest. “Don’t be pissy, Viviana. I never forget, thank you very much, but it is what it is. What are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

“Exactly, nothing. I’ll be home around supper, like I always am. I’ll kiss you to sleep, like I always do.”

“Hmm, well, that does sound nice.
Especially now that you get to do it several times over in the night.”

“Don’t tease me.” Anton’s chuckles rocked their bodies. “The doctor said six weeks for healing, remember? I don’t know if I can last that long.”

Viviana gasped in mock indignation. “How will you ever survive, Anton?”

“I’ll manage … with many painfully cold showers.”

She snorted under her breath before tiling her head up to kiss the underside of his chin. Viviana knew he didn’t really mind about the six weeks of abstinence. Her body was still swollen, tender, and healing. It would be for a while. Sitting down could be an effort at times. Sex was the last thing on her mind.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t have any physical contact, though, and Anton was the first to feed into that however he could. It could be as simple as his arms around her waist, his fingers in her hair, or his kiss on her hand. It did matter, she liked him close, and he gave it to her as often as possible.

And God, every time he did, Viviana yearned and burned for more.

“Six weeks is long, but I think you’ll be okay,” she told him.

Anton smirked, offering her a cheeky wink. “The wait will be worth it. And besides that, we got something good from it.”

The sleeping baby caught both their eyes.
Demyan was still cuddled in his blankets, his fist stuck up by his lips like it usually was. She couldn’t believe how much he’d taken after his father in his appearance. But, it was more than just appearance, too. Viviana had noticed her son calmed easier in the arms of his father. Anton’s voice, especially when he was speaking Russian, soothed the boy’s fussing. Demyan preferred the blue swaddling blanket his father had held him wrapped in for most of their stay at the hospital, probably because it smelled like Anton.

Already there was a bond between the two that was remarkable to witness.

Viviana smiled as she said, “We made something amazing, Anton.”

“We sure did.”

“All right, you better get going.”

“Still don’t want to,” Anton muttered unhappily.

“Sooner you leave, the quicker it’ll be over.” Viviana’s suggestion seemed to work as Anton’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ll be okay with him, I promise.”

“I know you will, Vine. It’s me who’s having the meltdown here. Ten bucks says I’m home before supper.”

“Twenty says you don’t make it until noon,” she said, just to tease.

Anton grinned. “Oh, you’re on.”

*

Hollers welcomed Anton into his office at Seven Lights. Waving his hands in the air and giving his three favorite guys a bow, Anton grinned at the affection they showed his return. Not all of his men were there, but the most important ones were.

Erik, Boris, and Ivan.

The only ones he’d wanted to see without a prearranged meeting.

Erik reached out to cuff his shoulder while loud congratulations were expressed.

“He lives another day!” Erik leered.

Ivan laughed and said, “Oh, the new daddy is in the house.”

“Birth is as bad as they say, yeah?” Boris asked.

Anton chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad, actually.”

“Liar.”

Anton’s gaze found his best friend’s instantly, a relieved smile overtaking him as he regarded Ivan. His lawyer was pale, tired looking, and probably weak, but he seemed a hell of a lot better than he had the last time Anton was with him.

At least now he fucking looked alive.

Crossing the room, Anton met Ivan before he could stand from his spot on the couch. Ivan didn’t need to get up to greet him, not in Anton’s opinion. The man deserved more than that for the bullet he took. The quiet embrace between the two men lasted long enough for Anton to feel the strength in the hold.

“Does he look as much like you as I’ve heard?” Ivan asked.

Anton shrugged as he pulled away. “Quite a bit. He took after her, too. He’s got a good mix of us both.”

Ivan had yet to see
Demyan, and actually, today was his first day away from his own home and family since the night over a week before that nearly took his life. Anton and Viviana had received a steady stream of visitors to their house since they arrived home from the hospital. Most were Bratva, a few had been his wife’s friends from school, and others were their mutual friends, people like Jen. Anton didn’t mind the visitors, but he liked privacy more. He was happy the guests were finally beginning to slow.

“Blue eyes, too?” Ivan asked.

“Just like his Papa,” Erik said as he sat down. Ivan winced at the jostle of movement on the couch. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s all right, but you don’t weigh as much as a horse, so
don’t act like it,” Ivan replied easily.

Anton sat down behind his desk, relaxed back into the familiar chair, and propped his boots up on the oak top. Comfort and familiarity seeped into his blood like a drug, but he felt different sitting there, more so than he usually would. It was almost like something was missing. His mind was there where it needed to be. Ready to talk business, the new shipment coming in at the end of the month, and the issue of Jersey, but an odd sentiment prickled at him.

Or maybe his heart was simply elsewhere.

Like at home, with his wife and son.

Shit, now he just wanted to call Viviana.

Anton sighed away the melancholy.
“So, anything new?”

“It’s only been five days, Boss,” Boris said, exhaling a heavy puff of cigar smoke.

“Eight,” Anton corrected. “I haven’t been properly caught up on anything since the sit down. Someone needs to fix that shit immediately. I hate being out of the loop.”

“You were the one who turned your phone off.”

“True.”

“I received an interesting call,” Ivan said, offering something new to the conversation. “I was surprised he didn’t call you directly, or his wife, for that matter.”

Anton raised a brow. It wasn’t like Ivan to be vague. “Who?”

“Who else has that ample amount of stupidity?
The Don, of course. Wanting to wish Viviana congratulations from him and his wife on the birth of her first child. Maybe it was just his way of being respectful, but Conrad didn’t wait to get on the phone with me after Demyan’s birth was announced in the Times.”

“Wait, my son’s birth was in the motherfucking Times?”

“A baby boy born to a former Cosa Nostra Don’s daughter and the current Bratva mob prince?” Boris asked over the tip of his cigar. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes, “I’m surprised they didn’t plaster those titles on him just for good measure and call him New York underground royalty. You’re goddamn right they had that announcement in the Times, Boss. What would they call him, anyway? The Russian Don?”

Anton stared at his brigadier, wondering where on earth the man had gotten that from. It was funny, but it wasn’t. Anton was just trying to decide if he wanted to be offended or not. Somebody else who didn’t know Boris well enough probably would have taken it offensively.

“Jesus, Boris, you’re an idiot,” Ivan said through his laughter. “If I was close enough, and it didn’t hurt to get up, I’d smack the shit outta you.”

“
Demyan can’t be the Don,” Anton finally said, deciding he wasn’t all too offended. It was all for shits and giggles, anyway. Something to lighten up the room, get the guys loose and ready to talk. “Couldn’t ever be, he’s
Russian
. Looks like a Russian, too.”

“I heard they’re taking ‘
em even if they’re only half, now,” Boris replied with a teasing smirk.