The Life (5 page)

*

“Tell me what happened.”

Viviana turned away from Anton’s voice, not wanting him to see the tears gathering and fighting to fall. He’d found her sitting on the steps of the Long Island University’s library, waiting for him. The saddened, ruffled appearance she sported was enough for her husband to figure out something had gone wrong at her study group.

And did it ever.

A new girl had been invited into the group, Vanessa. She was smart and opinionated, but Viviana didn’t mind that. It was someone else who was willing to have discussions worth having on the topics they were currently studying. Viviana liked to be challenged. She didn’t think anything of the girl’s uncomfortable stares or veiled comments, until they weren’t so veiled anymore and the stares turned to accusatory, hateful glares.

“Vine.” Anton leaned between their seats, his hand caressing the arm of her sweater. “I need to know if something happened so I can take care of it.”

“You can’t fix everything, Anton!”

His hand snapped away from her side as if he’d been burned. Even Viviana was surprised at her outburst. Anton could fix just about anything if he really wanted to. In one way or another, the issue would disappear. She didn’t even want to consider what that might mean if she told him of her recently acquired enemy.

“Okay, so obviously something did happen,” Anton said coldly. “Your bulls won’t have anything to say because they were on the other side of the library out of earshot. I can send them around Brooklyn just as fast to find and question every single person who I know you were with until I do find out what happened. They will find out, Vine, and I don’t care how they extract the information so long as I get it.”

A lump formed in her throat, stopping the bubbling sob catching painfully in her chest. “But—”

“What?” her husband interrupted, canting his head to the side. “Did you think I wouldn’t know who was in your study group? I absolutely fucking do. You’re my
wife
—I wouldn’t risk putting you in a situation with people I can’t trust. Now, what happened?”

An aching rhythm kick started Viviana’s heart. Something akin to embarrassment and anger swelled inside her stomach. This was exactly why she didn’t want to tell him what had happened in her study group; his overprotectiveness would immediately send him into worry mode, not to mention prickle at his fury.

“No, Anton.” Turning sharply, Viviana leveled him with a glare. “Shit happens, okay? If it was something for you to be worried about, I would tell you. That’s not what this is.”

“Viviana, do not make me—”

Viviana was out of their Mercedes-Benz M-Class before Anton could finish his sentence. It was a fight she didn’t want to have with him. When she was acting like the normal woman she was, not the Russian mob boss’s wife she sometimes needed to be, he didn’t get to pull his Bratva cards and throw threats.

Threats she knew he would follow through with, unfortunately.

Viviana knew Anton had a lot going on behind the scenes that he wasn’t informing her about. She understood he was grieving for his sick father, that he was frightened about the changes in his life, like being a new husband and a soon to be new father. In the midst of all that, he was keeping it to himself, dealing with it how he saw fit. Viviana didn’t think it was the best way for him to go about it, but she knew he would come to her when he was ready.

Well, this wasn’t any different. It was something Viviana needed to deal with alone.

Leaving Anton stunned, she let the slam of their SUV’s door say what she wouldn’t. The sound of his fists hitting the steering wheel and a Russian curse answered her back. Viviana didn’t turn around. She kept walking until she disappeared behind the front door.

A hot bath called to Viviana. In a dazed state, and with the heaviest heart, she moved silently through their home until she found herself in the master bath. Closing the door, she found it was exactly what she needed. To shut out the world and its judgment so she could pretend they didn’t live a life no one else could possibly understand.

Sinking most of her body below hot water, Viviana finally let her tears fall. They rushed heavy and hot down her cheeks, undisturbed by her hands that itched to wipe the wetness away and hide proof of her fears and weaknesses.

When Vanessa had brought up the topic of organized crime in New York, something that certainly wasn’t on their study group’s agenda, Viviana knew she was in trouble. Most of the people who Viviana studied with knew who she was, or at least, they knew of her family. Most even knew her husband, despite the fact that she didn’t wear her wedding and engagement rings during her classes or study group. The obvious extravagance of the pieces would cause distraction.

When the girl pointed out her earlier studies had been law, Viviana had closed her books and laptop, ready to leave the library and find her bulls. What she didn’t want or need was to fight with someone whose opinions could only be based on the things they heard or read.

Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well. The four other students had been much too shocked to step in and stop Vanessa’s
verbal attack. Sure, Viviana was able to deflect enough, stood her ground and kept her mouth shut when she needed to. Viviana refused to let the girl see even an ounce of the anger, awkwardness, or pain she caused by her spiteful words.

But when Vanessa’s words had turned from Viviana’s dead family to her current life, she had taken all she could. Vanessa had spewed on about Viviana’s husband and unborn child, about how privileged they lived in their beautiful home, with an abundance of wealth that was smeared with the dishonor of greed and death.

No one had the right to judge Viviana. Certainly not Vanessa or anyone else.

For once, Viviana didn’t want to be who she needed to be. She only wanted to act like what she was feeling. And she was feeling absolutely horrible—heartbroken and ashamed.

Maybe she should have expected it. Anton and Viviana weren’t low profile in New York. People knew who she was, and Viviana should have had her guard up. It just hadn’t been an issue before today.

An hour passed Viviana by in silence, other than the quiet noise of her hiccupping sobs. Long after the water had turned cool and most of the steam in the bathroom disappeared, she finally felt calm enough to get out of the tub.

The softest knock on the bathroom door stopped her. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” At least Anton sounded calmer.

Sighing, Viviana knew it was useless to refuse him. Whether she liked it or not, she needed to talk to him and have him closer. “Sure.”

Less than a second later, her husband’s presence in the bathroom soothed away a little of the sadness and remaining anxiety Viviana felt. Without a word, Anton crossed the bathroom and
sticking a hand in the water, he unplugged the tub’s drain before resting his arms to smooth porcelain. Reaching out, she traced the tribal tattoos on his arm that led down to his elbow. Anton’s eyes fluttered closed, his lashes fanning over his cheeks at her silent apology.

Viviana pulled herself up, deciding to give him a verbal one as well. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied. “But I wish you would have told me what happened. You left your purse in the car, your phone was in it. Your friend—George—he called to apologize for inviting Vanessa to the study group and to say she wouldn’t be returning. When I asked, he explained some. It was enough for me to figure out the rest.”

“I handled it.”

“I know you did,” Anton said, finally turning to look at her. Instead of the anger she expected to see, his blue gaze only held sadness and a sympathetic understanding. “You’re the twenty-five-year-old wife of a mob boss, Vine. You’re allowed to stick up for yourself when some
suka
hurts you, no matter how she’s doing it. Did you think I was going to be pissed off because you told her to shove her opinion up her ass, or what?”

Reaching out with one hand, Viviana uncurled Anton’s fingers that had tightened to the edge of the tub in a death grip. She rolled her thumb along his knuckles. Anton sighed and rested his head to her arm. Slowly, he intertwined their fingers and they stayed silent for a moment longer before Viviana felt okay with speaking again.

“I was okay with her cutting out at Roman with all her alleged comments. I let that shit roll right off me,” she said angrily. “I wasn’t fucking pleased about it, considering she wasn’t the one who listened to her father be murdered. She wasn’t the daughter who sat beside her mother the next day, watching news broadcasts, knowing exactly who pulled the trigger and knowing there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. I handled all of that, Anton.”

“But?” he pressed gently.

“It got worse.” Viviana shook her head, rubbing her free hand over her stomach absently to soothe the sudden flurry of activity from the baby inside. “She asked where my rings were. How did my husband feel about me not wearing them? Did I know where you were tonight?

“There’s no pretending we’re innocent, okay? Like this house we live in is paid by money
Nicoli got free and clear, or that my son is somehow going to escape the expectations of a mafia child.”

“We talked about this, baby,” he said calmly.

Viviana nodded jerkily, not wanting to go into all that again with him. The first time was more than enough emotionally. “I know what you do, Anton. I watch the goddamn news. I’ve been reading about your family ever since I was old enough to have private access to the internet. I am not a stupid woman, and locking myself into a marriage with a man I didn’t know a thing about wasn’t okay with me. So yeah, I know. Alleged this and supposed that, I really don’t care. What I do care about is when shit starts to turn personal.

“She didn’t just attack me on a level where I could shove her opinions off. She came at me as a woman, too. She cut out at the
life
I live—my husband and baby. She might as well have called me a paid whore.
How fucking proud you are
, she said.
Why was I even there
, she asked. I don’t need to go to university; did I even have to get accepted in or did my husband just pay my way?”

“Vine—”

“It was horrible,” she cried lowly.

The water had all drained from the tub and Viviana shivered from the cold air surrounding her. Anton grabbed one of the large towels from the rack and wrapped her shaking frame with it. He lifted her up out of the bath like she hadn’t put on a good thirty extra pounds of weight.
Cradled in his quiet, strong embrace, she barely noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks again.

In their bedroom, Anton placed her to the bottom of the bed. Then, he
unwrapped the towel, drying the ends of her hair and wiping away the wetness on her face. Tugging over the Afghan throw that rested at the edge of their bed, he draped it around her shoulders before his warm hands framed her face.

“Thank you for defending me, Vine. But you know you don’t need to, nor do I deserve it half of the time. I probably earned whatever she had to say and more.”

“How did you—”

Anton shrugged as he bent down to one knee. “George. Like I said, he explained some.”

“You can’t do anything.” Viviana pleaded with her watery gaze for him to understand. “Just leave it.”

“I think,” Anton said with a wry smile, “that my wife handled it fine from her end. When business turned personal, she stopped gritting her teeth and used her mouth like she should.”

“So you won’t—”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” he interjected grimly.

“Anton,
please
.”

Suddenly, Viviana found herself pushed back to the bed, the Afghan throw opened to expose her pebbling flesh. Anton crawled between her legs with a predator’s grace and an intense stare that seemed to be soaking up every inch of her body that he could see. Viviana exhaled shakily. His hands under her arms lifted her further onto the bed, his mouth coming down to kiss, suck, and nip at her sensitive skin.

“Jesus.” She gasped when his teeth found her taut nipple, biting down sharper than she expected him to. “Anton, wait, we need to talk—”

“No talking.”

His answer was so simple and sure. The word melted away whatever else it was she wanted to say before Viviana relaxed into the bed, her body calming under his skillful hands.

“You’re wrinkly.” Anton shook his head and kissed the tips of her fingers where water had puckered her skin, warming them instantly.
“And cold.” His lips trailed a hot path down the side of her rounded midsection, his grip loosening from her wrists only to find her thighs and spread them opened further. The closer he came to her throbbing sex, the more her nerves grew. “Shh, stop shaking, baby. Let me in.”

Viviana hadn’t realized she’d been unknowingly trying to close her legs on him. Propping herself up on her elbows, she bit the corner of her lip. Something about being pregnant had made her slightly uncomfortable with oral sex. She purposely diverted Anton’s attention every damned time he made his way down there.

Now, though, she was aching to see and feel him like that. To see his mouth love her into oblivion. To know he was tasting her pussy when she was so full of the life he had given her. To feel him owning her body beautifully.