The Score (19 page)

“Vine can’t hide it forever. Sympathy plays a factor, also.”

“The judge will be impartial beyond even what a jury would be, Ivan.”

“Perhaps,” his friend mused. “But I do believe you might find this particular judge will be partial to us, Anton.”

The implication there was not hidden, by any means. Anton wasn’t entirely sure what he should say, or ask. Before he could gather his thoughts, Ivan continued.

“After all, a jury would get to hear you be slandered over and over. So does the judge, but he’s looking at the facts. And what is it they have, exactly? A DNA match that’s only thirty-five percent, from the father’s side; not nearly close enough to be a sure thing, given your biological grandfather could have had a dozen more male children we don’t know about before Nicoli wacked him. No weapon or ballistics for Sonny’s murder. A shell casing was found in the burnt out restaurant where the Belovs were found, but no gunshot wound was ever located on the bodies. Yet, they’re still calling it a murder. You may have been seen near the area that night, but so were a lot of other people. Those things mean nothing. They add up to absolutely nothing. If anything, they create plausible, reasonable doubt.”

“Witness testimony,” Anton pointed out. “Natalie will say I told her what I did, which outweighs the rest.”

“If the witness shows,” Ivan replied, unfazed. “They cannot use her testimony without her presence. You have a right to confront your accuser.”

“Are you saying you’ve found her?”

That would be incredibly good for Anton, but especially bad for Natalie.

“I’m saying we’re watching and we have some time before they’ll call her to the stand. There might be a lead on that, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

Ivan shrugged, but didn’t look up from his papers. “Something came from Jersey. Thank your new friend Adrik. He’s got a lot to lose with you in prison, so …”

Anton licked his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets with a heavy sigh. This was the most information he had safely been able to pull from Ivan, but he wondered how much more he could get. There had to be more, considering everything. They weren’t ones to leave holes where something might slip through. Not anymore, not after all of this had happened.

“What about the judge?”

Ivan’s confident mask finally cracked in the form of a fleeting frown.

“Will I not like this?” Anton asked when his friend stayed silent.

“I think, if you really need to know, you should ask Vine,” Ivan finally said.

Well, that didn’t bode well, either.

“Are you telling me my wife is involved in whatever schemes—”

Ivan held up a single hand. “I’m telling you not to ask her unless you’re willing to understand what she did for you.”

***

“Papa!”

Viviana felt tears spring to her eyes as Anton turned on his heel at the sound of his son’s voice with a choked gasp. The decision to bring Demyan to the courthouse was one she wrestled with, to the point where she had little to no sleep the night before. No one expected or knew she was bringing him, as it ended up being a last minute thing that morning. One that made her especially late, and put her front and center for the media outside.

The sounds of their cameras shutters clicking down repeatedly as Viviana and Sasha attempted to shield Demyan from the photographs was still haunting her memory. The tiny fists of her son had grabbed so tightly to the strands of her hair hanging loose around her neck. He stayed clinging to her shoulder, his favorite blanket tossed over his head, so confused and scared of the people, their questions, and the flashes of light.

Viviana had continued to wave the reporters off, saying nothing.

They weren’t important. Let them have their pictures. They didn’t matter.

Demyan dropped from his mother’s arms to the floor and his sneaker-clad feet barely made it two steps before Anton was meeting him. Shaking and laughing at the same time, Demyan was wrapped in his father’s embrace. Anton buried his face into the boy’s neck and held tight, lifting him off the floor at the same time Demyan’s legs wrapped around his father’s middle.

“Oh, Demyan … My little boy …” Anton’s whispers were hushed, turning relieved and pained at the same time. With one hand, he smoothed down the dark hair at the back of Demyan’s head. Standing in the middle of the room, as if no one else was there watching, Anton rocked his son, gentle murmurs of Russian mixing in with his English. “I miss you so much. So, so much, Demyan. Papa is so sorry.”

Viviana forced the tears blurring up her vision to stop. It wouldn’t be long before Demyan needed to leave. They didn’t have a great deal of time and she drew the line at having him inside the courtroom. Sasha already agreed to skip the first day of proceedings to take the child back home.

Sasha came to stand at Viviana’s side, expelling a shaky breath. “I’ve not seen him in so long …”

Viviana nodded her understanding to her mother-in-law’s unspoken words. Neither had she, really. Rikers didn’t only scare her for her son’s sake, but for her own, as well. Not once had she worked up the nerve to make the trip with Ivan, never mind going it alone. Anton hadn’t asked her to come, so she felt he must have understood what she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say.

“Go on,” Viviana urged Sasha, willing the quake in her tone to leave. “Say hello, and spend some time with him before you leave.”

After all, Viviana would have all day with Anton. Hours to watch him, though they wouldn’t be able to speak during the proceedings. There would be short breaks for an occasional recess, and a longer one for lunch. She would have her time, but Demyan and Sasha wouldn’t.

Sasha didn’t need any more encouragement to greet her only child. Their embrace, much like Anton’s had been with Demyan, was just as heart-wrenching to witness. Only quiet murmurs passed between mother and son, the same apology falling from Anton repeatedly. The guilt he must have felt over the war his family faced was beginning to show. Viviana hadn’t expected that and it hurt.

“God, Ma,” Anton started to say, his jaw tightening. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

The guard standing just outside the doorway caught Viviana’s gaze. With a nod, the man reached in and grasped the doorknob, closing the door soundlessly and offering the family a bit more privacy. Because there were no windows in the room, and only the one entrance, he didn’t need to be inside, but he couldn’t leave his post.

Either way, she was grateful for his actions.

Anton let Demyan down to the floor. Instead of exploring the room like he usually would, the child stayed at his father’s side, his hands clasped into Anton’s pant legs. It almost seemed he thought if he let Anton go, he might disappear.

Viviana ached a little more.

Had she made the right choice bringing him?

Would it scar Demyan further when he left his father behind?

“This was unexpected,” Ivan said quietly beside Viviana.

“He’s going to have a hard day,” Viviana explained.

“Demyan?”

“No, Anton.” Viviana offered an apologetic smile. “I didn’t want him going back there frustrated, or worse, angry because of today. It might be good for Demyan to see him, but Anton needed it, too. Maybe he’ll take that back instead of the trial.”

“Papa,” Demyan said, tugging on his father’s pants.

Anton was down on one knee instantly, answering Demyan with full attention. Their son attempted to explain he had to leave Rocco at home, though he wanted him to come. The soft smile playing on the edges of Anton’s lips mixed in with the happiness shining behind wet eyes told Viviana all she needed to know.

She made the right choice. The rest didn’t matter.

Chapter Sixteen

“Bye, bye, Papa!”

Anton hid his sadness with a wave, hoping those wouldn’t turn into famous last words for him and his son.

“Not bye, Demyan, just I’ll see you soon,” Anton said.

Demyan, holding tight to his grandmother’s hand, gave a fierce nod.

The door wasn’t closed but two seconds before Anton crossed the distance between him and his wife. That ten feet of space had been teasing him ever since Viviana walked into the room. She’d mostly kept her distance, giving Sasha and Demyan their space and time.

Now, he just fucking wanted her.

The moment Anton’s palm came touched Viviana’s reaching hand, heat siphoned up his arm, snaking over his skin and straight into his veins. Air sucked through his teeth, like the hissing sting of heartache beating through the organ in his chest. Their fingers laced as Anton drew his wife into his arms, taking in the sweetened scent of her floral perfume that always soaked into his lungs like the best drug.

Closer was better. The beats of her heart thumped against his chest. The lingering pain of letting his son go slowly started to subside. There, with Viviana’s face hidden against his neck, Anton felt the first of his tears begin to fall.

“Vine,” he said, her name alone in his mouth sounding a hell of a lot like a prayer. “Thank you, baby.”

“No, no. He needed that, so I brought him along. He’ll probably be so confused tonight, but I just—”

Anton shushed low, tugging Viviana’s warmth in closer. Wordlessly, she tilted her head up enough to press silken lips to the underside of his jaw, her fingers dancing along the front of his suit jacket. The action caused a shiver to crawl from the base of his spine up to his shoulders, while a familiar pressure built in his groin. Tingles sneaked over his skin. Want and need warred a battle through his insides.

“Jesus,” Anton half wheezed. Surprised would be an understatement. They hadn’t touched in so long, and it only took the most innocent of grazes for his entire body to react like it had. “Baby, baby …”

Again, Viviana kissed his jaw softly, fisting his jacket. Ghosting her mouth along his cheek, she stood on the toes of her heels to meet his burning gaze long enough for Anton to see the love and devotion staring back in her eyes.

As badly as he needed to see that, it was just as much overwhelming.

The wetness on his cheeks betrayed the tears he’d tried to cover up. Always so strong, Anton didn’t want his wife to see him weak. Pride played no part here, though. With Viviana, there was no hiding.

“It’s going to be okay,” Viviana said, quiet and firm. “It is, Anton.”

Dumbly, Anton could only nod. “Okay.”

Ivan’s previous words earlier that morning were still on the forefront of his mind. Anton wasn’t ready to ask Viviana how she knew this fucked up situation would, or could, work out for them. Or worse yet, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to accept whatever role she may have played.

Viviana didn’t give Anton time to consider his thoughts further, because in the next moment, her lips were pressing to his with an almost bruising force. Sweet like honey, and bitter from the anxiety still edging at the corners of his mind, the feel of her mouth on his overtook everything else. Nothing mattered but the nip of her teeth to his lip. A heady groan tumbled from his chest into the room as his fingers weaved into her hair. Soft, sleek waves that smelled like home, and love, and
her
. Heat flooded his veins while blood flooded his cock.

Before Anton realized what happened, his back was hitting a wall with a thump.

A throat cleared behind them, embarrassed and surprised.

Anton swallowed back the building lust, cringing as he remembered the last presence who hadn’t actually left the room when the others had. Viviana, on the other hand, hid her mortified pinked cheeks against his hands cradling her face.

“Ivan,” Anton said under his breath.

“Yeah, I’m going to pretend like my eyes don’t need a serious bleach cleaning,” the lawyer replied dully.

It wasn’t the first time Ivan had seen or heard something between the two, but he hadn’t ever been so close. The one thing Viviana and Anton never lacked was passion. Obviously it still burned as bright as it ever did. Being apart only fueled that need.

Over his wife’s shoulder, Anton met Ivan’s knowing gaze. With a tick of his chin to the side, he asked, “Could you …?”

Ivan frowned. “Maybe, man, but no guarantee.”

Jesus, Anton didn’t care. It wasn’t like he needed a great deal of time to do … What in the hell was he planning on doing? Didn’t matter, he realized. Anything with Viviana was perfect, even just holding her, but he needed to do it alone.

“
Try
,” Anton growled.

“Anton!”

Viviana’s admonishment only earned her a smirk from the lawyer across the room.

“It’s all good, Vine,” Ivan said. “I should go … grab something from my car.”

“That’s what, twenty minutes?” Anton asked.

“Just about.”

Good enough
, Anton thought. “And the guard?”

Ivan shrugged. “That’s the maybe. This is your space in the courthouse for the duration of the trial while you’re in this building. You can’t escape without going right past him. Someone needs to be in this room with you at all times.”

“Someone is,” Viviana said pointedly.

“Exactly,” Ivan responded with a wink to Anton.

Without another word, Ivan made his move to leave the room. Anton followed his lawyer’s steps with a watchful eye, not missing Ivan’s hand slipping up to flick the lock on the doorknob before the door clicked shut behind him.

Anton sighed when after the man was gone, no knock immediately came for the door to be reopened. “That’s better.”

“About Demyan.” Viviana had his full attention again with just their son’s name. “You were right. I was wrong to keep him from you, no matter my intentions.”

Anton sniffed away the remaining tears still lurking along his lashes. “Nah, baby. I understood, really. But I was going out of my mind thinking he needed me, and I wasn’t there.”

“He never forgets about you, Anton,” Viviana said, reaching up to brush away the wetness under his eyes. “Talks about you every single day. He’s got your picture in his room, and he watches all those videos of you and him on my phone over and over. He’s got his papa, all the time. Whenever he wants you, you’re there. I promise, you’re the first thing I talk to him about in the morning and the last thing he hears before bed.”

“But it’s not
me
, Vine.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she agreed. “I know, but until this over, it’s the best we can do for him.”

“And what about us?” Anton asked.

“We haven’t been doing well, huh?”

“Not going on like we have. Pretending, whatever you want to call it.” In all truth, it fucking sucked. She needed to know that. “If you’re pissed off at me for all of this, I need to know. I want to, Vine. Just talk to me about something more than your day. Tell me if our kid is being a brat. Cry, I don’t care. But don’t pretend for my sake, if that’s what it is, not anymore.”

“Okay.”

Anton raised a brow. “Just okay?”

“Yeah, Anton. Just okay.”

A brief, uncomfortable silence passed before Anton asked, “Are you ready for this day?”

“No, I’m terrified,” she confessed sadly. “That fear doesn’t rule me. It can’t. I need you home, especially now.”

Yeah, that Anton knew. With the pregnancy, Viviana must be facing more stress than normal. And thinking of which, she still hadn’t told him about it. Anton wasn’t about to let her go one more minute dealing with that alone.

“Vine, I know about … Well, I just know.”

In his embrace, she practically turned to ice. Color drained from her pretty face, pink lips popping open in shock. That wasn’t exactly the reaction Anton was expecting.

“You
know
?” Viviana asked, the air in her voice disappearing. At his confused nod, she added, “And you’re … okay with it?”

Anton’s confusion only rose further, as did the ache in his heart. The choice to have another child had been shared equally between them, but he knew those feelings might have changed for Viviana after everything they had dealt with, and were still handling.

“Do you not want to have the baby? I mean, it’s not the greatest time and the last pregnancy didn’t end well—”

“The baby,” Viviana interrupted. “You’re talking about the baby.”

“Is there something else?”

“No,” she rushed to say. “No, of course not. That was really the last thing on my mind today is all.”

Anton laughed, relief sweeping his senses. “The last thing? You’re
pregnant
. You must be sick half of the time, tired the other half, and sick and tired of keeping it a secret, aren’t you?”

Viviana hummed a sound that had his insides waking up all over again. “I am.”

“Pregnant.” Needing to feel more of her skin against his, Anton slipped his hands up under the white blouse she wore, laying both his palms flat to her smooth stomach. Electricity danced along the edges of his fingers as he swept them over her flesh. “With my baby.”

“Yes, Anton. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. There was so much going on, and I was scared of losing this one, too. I had an early ultrasound at nine weeks to check for the heartbeat. They could see it. That helped. I’m thirteen weeks along now, so we’ve passed the first trimester. That helped a hell of a lot more.”

“No way, baby. No apologies. I’m so fucking excited, you don’t even know.”

The smile Viviana graced him with was the most honest and open thing he’d seen in so long. Again, Anton found his lips caught in hers while his hands stayed pressed to her midsection. Their second kiss was much slower than the first. Tantalizing and promising. So hopeful and loving. He took his time exploring her mouth with gentle flicks of his tongue, needing to taste and savor the beauty of his wife.

“I’ve missed you, Vine. I love you.”

“Always,” she echoed.

What happened then between them was as fast as it was rough. Anton removed his hands from Viviana’s body just long enough to bend down and grasp the backs of her thighs. She seemed to expect his move, finding purchase on his shoulders to hold her steady as he walked her backwards. At the long, sturdy table that was certainly not meant to be used in the way Anton planned to use it, he sat his wife down at the very edge.

Viviana’s thighs opened further under gentle urging. Born from a want that had been building from the moment Anton knew his wife was in the same room as he, the desire swirling in his gut grew.

It was the first time Anton took a serious inventory of her outfit choice for the day, as he’d been so focused on just her that he hadn’t noticed at all before. The royal blue skirt she wore was tight to her body, falling just above her knees. The blouse kept her covered, but with the pop of three buttons under his hand, her olive toned skin was exposed to his mouth.

Anton nipped a gentle path along the hollow of Viviana’s neck, and down to her collarbones. The sweetest gasps rolled from her lips in perfect tune with the shifts of her hips that rocked into his groin. Frantic and rushed, he was all too aware of just how much time they didn’t have. That anyone might knock on the door. That the guard might hear the sounds he created just by touching his stunning wife. It was only urged on further, needier, by her hands skimming between the opened front of his suit’s jacket, sneaking beneath to try and flick open the buttons on his dress shirt.

The buttons didn’t slip through the loops as fast as she wanted them to. Viviana’s frustration showed when she tugged roughly on the tail of his shirt to pop open the buttons quicker.

“Careful,” Anton warned.

“I need to feel you,” Viviana said, her voice airless but full.

Viviana drove her opened palm from Anton’s navel, up over the railroad path of his abdomen, to the spot on his chest where his heart lay beating beneath. It was mixture of the softest touch with the strongest pressure. A sensation he hadn’t been expecting to feel at all. It damn near brought him to his knees.

All over again, Anton’s body was reacting to his wife’s close proximity. Not just the obvious, no, but the things she couldn’t see. Like the way his pulse picked up, beating fast and hard straight down to the shaft of his hard cock. Or, how his lungs seemed to ache with every expansion, but it hurt so fucking good. The heat of her skin pressed to his, tapping straight in to his blood and bones.

God, this girl owned him.

Just like she always had.

So, when her fingers curled against his chest, her fingernails digging in to claw down, Anton could only sigh. He felt everything, and it reached everywhere. Viviana always did know how to get him moving faster, after all.

The skirt she wore was bunched up over her hips, exposing simple, black cotton beneath. Anton wasted no time reaching in between the creamy, smooth contours of Viviana’s thighs to lay his palm flat at the seam of her core. With his fingers hooking under the side of her panties, he slipped in one digit between the fleshy, soft folds of her sex, giving no notice of his intrusion.