The Life, Book Two
The mafia life is a dangerous one revolving around honor, duty, and greed—a troublesome thing like love isn’t meant to play a part, but no one follows the rules.
Surrounded by men waiting for the Russian mob boss to show weakness, Anton Avdonin should have known showering affection so openly on his new bride wasn’t a good idea. Of course, that didn’t stop him. When Anton’s wife begins attracting unwanted attention from an unknown source, he’s determined to find out just who is playing the risky game and put a stop to it by whatever means necessary.
From a Cosa Nostra princess to a Bratva queen, Viviana “Vine” Avdonin was made for the life. Pregnant, safe, and loved, she’s more than happy to move on from the history that haunts her to start out fresh. Then again, someone else has other plans. Old rivals from the past and bad blood from the present have mixed in the worst way, threatening to take away the things Viviana loves the very most. No matter what, she can’t let that happen.
Both Viviana and Anton know there’s only one way this can all end and it’s up to them to do it. But, who is behind the veiled threats and personal attacks, and how far are they willing to go to get what they want? When the truth finally surfaces, the consequences will be devastating and no one could have seen it coming.
In a life where everybody plays for keeps and no one fights fair, one mistake might cost them everything.
Surrounded by men waiting for the Russian mob boss to show weakness, Anton Avdonin should have known showering affection so openly on his new bride wasn’t a good idea. Of course, that didn’t stop him. When Anton’s wife begins attracting unwanted attention from an unknown source, he’s determined to find out just who is playing the risky game and put a stop to it by whatever means necessary.
From a Cosa Nostra princess to a Bratva queen, Viviana “Vine” Avdonin was made for the life. Pregnant, safe, and loved, she’s more than happy to move on from the history that haunts her to start out fresh. Then again, someone else has other plans. Old rivals from the past and bad blood from the present have mixed in the worst way, threatening to take away the things Viviana loves the very most. No matter what, she can’t let that happen.
Both Viviana and Anton know there’s only one way this can all end and it’s up to them to do it. But, who is behind the veiled threats and personal attacks, and how far are they willing to go to get what they want? When the truth finally surfaces, the consequences will be devastating and no one could have seen it coming.
In a life where everybody plays for keeps and no one fights fair, one mistake might cost them everything.
PURCHASE THE PAPERBACK:
Sequel to The Arrangement
A contemporary erotic romance with organized crime and suspense elements
* * *
Reviews: "This book is filled with everything that made me fall in love with this couple to begin with." 5 Stars - Crystal, Random Musesomy Blog
"The depth of passion and love that this pair has for each other is overwhelming and Bethany-Kris expresses it beautifully through-out the entire story. She keeps you riveted. I love these characters, I love this series." 5 Stars - Zarah, Sweet N Sassy Book A Holics
"All in all, this couple dazzles me with their strength and faith in each other, and I am delighted to be able to read a book where family and loyalty are such prevalent themes throughout." 5 Stars - Tierra, Goodreads Reviewer
A contemporary erotic romance with organized crime and suspense elements
* * *
Reviews: "This book is filled with everything that made me fall in love with this couple to begin with." 5 Stars - Crystal, Random Musesomy Blog
"The depth of passion and love that this pair has for each other is overwhelming and Bethany-Kris expresses it beautifully through-out the entire story. She keeps you riveted. I love these characters, I love this series." 5 Stars - Zarah, Sweet N Sassy Book A Holics
"All in all, this couple dazzles me with their strength and faith in each other, and I am delighted to be able to read a book where family and loyalty are such prevalent themes throughout." 5 Stars - Tierra, Goodreads Reviewer
Read Chapter One
“I’ve narrowed it down to three, Mr. Avdonin.”
Anton glanced up from the case displaying watches at the jeweler’svoice. Richard, his usual jeweler, sent him to this particular place of business for the piece he was looking for.
After all, pearls were a speciality for some. For others, they were only a fancy.
“And?” Anton asked.
The jeweler produced three black velvet cases from under the counter. The first held a two stranded, white pearl design. A bit too simplistic for what Anton desired. He waved off the necklace, his gaze travelling to the second. Larger pearls with a pink sheen rested on a white gold strand of thin chain, each globe separated by a good inch of space. It was intended to hang low on the chest of the person wearing it.
“This is a bit long,” Anton said.
“It’s meant to draw attention to the clothes being worn, and not so much the pearls.”
“I want to show off the woman, not her clothes.”
“Ah, point taken.” With a faint smirk, the jeweler waved at the third. “This may be more to your liking, then.”
Anton went back to surveying the final piece with little interest. Much like the first one, it was a simple white design, only instead of two strands, there were four. Even with the simplicity of it, the jewelry still screamed flashy. It wasn’t long enough to be called a necklace, in his opinion, as it looked short enough to be more of a choker.
Anton wasn’t trying to brand his wife with a collar.
“No. None of these.”
The jeweler seemed struck speechless. “None?”
“They’re not to my wife’s tastes or style. She wears the jewelry, not the other way around.” With a sigh, Anton asked, “What about grey pearls?”
“Grey?”
Anton shrugged. “Why not? If you have them, I’d like to see them.”
“I do, but they’re very …”
“Expensive? I don’t care, show me.”
Money was the least of his concerns. People usually assumed the more expensive the jewelry, the flashier it was. That wasn’t always the case. Sometimes the most costly pieces came in modest designs. It was about the quality, not the quantity.
As Anton said, his wife wore the jewelry, the jewelry didn’t wear her. Viviana Avdonin didn’t need accessories to class her up, she did that all on her own.
The jeweler wasn’t gone but five seconds before a feminine form saddled up beside Anton at the counter. Slender fingers reached down to caress the rows of pearls left resting in their precious velvet. Each digit was adorned with rings that glittered off the lighting in the shop.
One of those rings in particular, Anton recognized.
The hackles on the back of his neck raised in his disgust and anger. “Tatiana.”
“Anton.” Tatiana purred his name, leaning on the counter with one arm. The low cut dress she wore showcased her cleavage, opening further as she stretched over the counter to snag the third case of pearls, dragging them towards her. “Funny meeting you here.”
Anton beat back his scowl. “Yes, funny.”
Tatiana Belov was the devil in a pretty package. Slender, tall, and curvaceous in all the places that mattered, she didn’t lack male attention. Her blue eyes stung like steel, her blonde hair perfectly managed in waves, and an attitude that said she’d take all or nothing. Less than two years before, after Anton rejected her, she’d attempted to burn his club to the ground. Less than one year ago, the vile woman cornered his soon-to-be wife and verbally attacked her.
Being an old lover of his, Tatiana was due her jealousies. Anton didn’t deny her that, but he had thought he made it clear as to his lack of interest or desire to have her again. Especially now that he and Viviana were married.
“What are you doing here, Tatiana?”
“Visiting a friend,” she said vaguely. “These are beautiful.”
Anton rolled his eyes. She would think they were something, if the jewelry she wore was any indication. Beyond that, Anton knew Tatiana enjoyed the expensive things that came along with living in the mafia lifestyle. Clothes that were on the runway only weeks ago, gems the size of large marbles, and vehicles that were drool-worthy … No, the girl didn’t lack in her tastes.
Unfortunately, her father indulged her far too much. Spoiled, beautiful, and rich, Tatiana was every man’s worst nightmare. She wasn’t wife material, she spread her legs to get what she wanted, and her mean streak couldn’t be contained. Anton didn’t trust her in the least.
Speaking of which … “I have a sit down with your father later today. Is that why you’re here?”
“Do you?” Tatiana at least had the decency to look surprised. “I didn’t know. Should I call—”
“Cut the shit,” Anton interrupted coldly. “What do you want, Tati?”
“Nothing. I told you, I’m visiting a friend.”
The way she cooed the word twisted something in Anton’s gut. Instincts or nerves, whatever someone wanted to call it, he had it in the gallons. When they acted up, Anton tended to take notice.
“I told you the last time we met up that you were not to come back here, Tati.”
Tatiana tapped her manicured nail to the glass counter. “No, you told me to stay out of your territory. I’ve not been in Brighton Beach since. You don’t own Brooklyn as a whole, Anton.”
Fuck, he hated that was true.
“Why do I doubt this is just a random meeting?”
“Well, it is,” Tatiana said, unbothered. “I noticed your car outside when I was leaving a shop across the street and came to say hello. Surely we can be friends, can’t we?”
No, Anton thought.
Before he could respond, the jeweler was making his way towards them from the back of the shop. Only one case rested in his hands. The man didn’t even acknowledge the girl now standing at his counter, as he seemed wholly focused on the velvet he held so carefully.
“Mr. Avdonin, these may be just what you’re looking for. Three strands, grey pearls ranging from small to large going from the top of the strand to the bottom with a diamond studded clasp at the back. They stay in my vault, as they were purchased for a specific customer who changed his mind last minute. They are much too expensive to be out here with the others. I only bring them out on request. Please do not touch unless wearing gloves.”
Anton liked this man. He was straightforward and blunt. There was something to be said for those qualities.
“The price?” Anton asked.
The pearls were laid to the glass in their case, and Anton knew instantly they were the ones.
“Eight,” the jeweler answered.
“Thousand?” Tatiana asked.
The man across the counter snorted, causing Anton to smirk. “No, my dear. Eight-hundred thousand. Imported, specially designed, and meant for the proper woman.”
With those words, the jeweler tossed Tatiana a baleful look. She was not the kind of woman he would expect to see toting pearls of these calibre. She couldn’t hold the weight of them, so to speak.
“These will fit Viviana just fine, don’t you think, Tatiana?” Anton asked, stating her name for the benefit of the jeweler.
Tatiana didn’t bother to hide her glower. “Perfect, I’m sure.”
Satisfied, Anton turned back to the counter. “My wife will be pleased, thank you. Ready them for me.”
Again, the man seemed thunderstruck. “Just like that?”
“I like them. I think it’s an appropriate gift for my wife for the birth of our child. Why not?”
At the word birth, Tatiana took an entire step back. The expression she sported could only be described as slapped. “Pregnant?”
“Mmhmm,” Anton hummed, turning on his heel to face her. “Very pregnant, actually. We’re having a little boy.”
Tatiana swallowed a gulp of nothing. “Congratulations are in order, then.”
Were they? The last thing this female seemed like she wanted to do was congratulate him or Viviana. Even so, Anton sincerely hoped whatever fancy Tatiana might have previously held for him disappeared with the knowledge that his wife was carrying his child, and he had no interest in her, now.
“I should go,” Tatiana said softy, her brow furrowing. “My friend …”
Anton waved her off. “Sure. I do have a meeting to get to, after all.”
“Tell Viviana I said hello, Anton.”
Absolutely not.
*
“Vine?”
When Anton’s wife didn’t immediately answer his yell, he knew where he’d find her.
Wife.
Goddamn, he loved calling her that.
Anton quickly made his way to the back of the house. Passing the maid’s room, he noticed Clarissa wasn’t in her usual spot reading. The house didn’t smell like food, either. That was the most unusual.
Viviana attended school three days a week, but they didn’t miss an evening meal together. While Clarissa did most of the cooking in their home, his wife nearly always had her hands in the pot when it came to supper.
“Viviana?” Anton called out her name again when he came up to the sliding glass doors. The main door was opened, but the screen was shut tight. “You out there, baby?”
Sure enough, as he pushed open the door he found everyone lounging in the backyard. Clarissa, perched up on one of the benches, had a book in her hands. Rocco slept on his plush pillow. Viviana, the one Anton searched for first, was out in the middle of the backyard soaking up sunshine on a blanket.
Anton grinned at the sight. It was unusually warm for late April. A muggy heat was sweeping New York. Viviana, nearly seven months pregnant, couldn’t stand the weather half of the time and then the other half she downright loved it. He couldn’t keep up with his pregnant wife’s moods. Not that he complained. There was no way in hell Anton would ever be able to understand the changes her body was going through for his child.
But he adored every fucking minute of it.
“Hey, baby.”
Viviana’s head turned to the side at his quiet greeting, her dark hair spilling to green grass as she smiled. “Hey.”
The cellphone in his pocket buzzed with a gentle tune. Anton ignored it. Like hell was he about to take calls for the Bratva. Give him an hour with his wife. That was all he asked of his guys. Unfortunately, his job as a mafia boss never really ended. There was always some issue or opinion needing immediate attention. When the phone buzzed with its call again, Anton slipped his hand inside his slacks and silenced the offending device.
Nothing on earth was more important than the brown-eyed beauty resting on the lawn with her hand perched at the top of her rounded stomach. Viviana was life to Anton. She breathed it into him every moment of the day. Somehow, she managed to remind him that despite his occupation, he could still be him.
“How did the sit down go?” Viviana asked.
She attempted to prop herself up, struggling in the cutest way. Anton quickly crossed the porch and then the back lawn to help her. Standing upright, she offered him a sheepish smile.
Anton wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his lips to her forehead. “It didn’t happen.”
“No?”
“Nope,” he replied with a shrug. “Clearly Sergei still hasn’t forgiven me for breaking his face, not that I give a fuck.”
Sergei Belov was a man, much like Anton, who ran his Bratva in his territory of New Jersey. Seven or so months earlier, the two men ended up in a disagreement of sorts when the Jersey boss slandered Viviana and Anton retaliated physically. It was only recently that they had attempted making peace again. Unfortunately, Sergei’s tactic of setting up the sit down and then not following through was as good as a shunning to Anton. It was, for all purposes, a signed death warrant.
“What’s going to happen now?” Viviana asked.
Anton decided to evade the question. He wasn’t entirely sure how he wanted to handle the situation with Sergei. And he certainly didn’t want to bring up Tatiana’s unexpected, unwanted presence and concern his wife.
“How was your day?”
“Long.” Viviana frowned unhappily. “The air conditioner in the lecture hall was broken all morning. I managed to forget where the bathroom was in the third wing and nearly peed myself. Your son thinks my bladder is his personal soccer ball.”
“He doesn’t mean it.”
Seemingly at the sound of his father’s voice, the baby boy pressed some appendage against the heel of Anton’s palm. By rolling his thumb over the spot, the baby finally relaxed inside his mother’s womb. Viviana huffed a breath of relief. Every time he kicked or stretched that hard, she swore the child was trying to put her into early labor.
“Yeah, Papa’s home, little man,” Anton said, smiling.
“Still going with Papa, huh?”
“It’s what I called my father, and what he called Nicoli. Call me whatever you want to him, but he’s going to know me as Papa, Vine. Mark my words.”
Viviana’s beautiful face lit up with bliss. “I bet if he’d have been a girl, it would have been Daddy all the way.”
Maybe. There was something about his first child being a boy that had him twisted into a million and one little knots. Especially when one of his guys asked how the little prince was doing and Anton realized for the first time, they weren’t asking about him. Oh, he’d been beyond ecstatic to find out they were having a boy. There weren’t enough words for him to use to explain his excitement. Pride and love were the closest, though.
“Ouch!” Viviana made a miserable noise, her hand coming to press under her lower rib. Anton moved his hand accordingly. “Damn it, that one hurt.”
“He doesn’t mean it,” he repeated, practically cooing the words. “He’s just strong and impatient, like me.”
“I know.” Viviana’s hand found his as the baby kicked again. “But he still has a couple of more months to go, so he can simmer Papa’s attitude right down.”
If only some of Anton’s men could see him now. They probably wouldn’t know what to think. Anton was known for being a hard-ass, cutthroat boss. One with a mighty fucking temper and little patience for nonsense. His behavior with Viviana was the complete opposite.
With Viviana’s hand pressing to Anton’s chest, she leaned closer into his embrace.
“Missed you today. No problems, right?”
Viviana shook her head. “Nope.”
“Good.”
“Did you see Daniil this morning?” she asked.
Anton flinched inwardly, fighting off the immediate rush of sadness that flushed his veins like poison. “Yeah, but he didn’t talk much. Slept through most of my visit.”
His father’s sickness had progressed to its very final stages. At the most, the doctors gave him a couple of short months, which was better than what they had predicted before. Daniil was a fighter, and he wasn’t about to miss his first grandchild’s birth. Even if Daniil wouldn’t admit it, Anton knew that was what his father was waiting for.
“And Sasha?”
“Tired.”
Viviana didn’t seem to have a reply, so he settled for holding her close as the warm April evening descended down. The gentle stillness settling between the couple had Anton sighing. This was his happiest time, the moments he waited and worked for every damned day. Between feds that tailed him and guys that constantly called, the only thing on his mind was his wife.
Seemingly sensing Anton’s lingering sadness, Viviana fisted his shirt and pulled him down to meet her for a kiss. Her front pressed to his as their mouths connected with a slow building passion. Anton relished in the way her fingers curled tighter, the taste and heat of her parting lips that moved in sync with his. Allowing his hands to wander, he trailed his grip up her sides, feeling his wife shiver under his touch.
Slowly, Anton pulled away, letting her gentle pecks dot down to the line of his jaw. “Did you want to go out for supper?”
“Nope.” Viviana smiled. “I was craving pizza something awful, so we ordered in. It should be here anytime.”
Ah, well that explained the lack of food when he arrived home.
“Craving, huh? Nothing weird, I hope.”
Anton was only half teasing. After the soup mess the week before, well, Viviana could have ordered something nasty to be put on the pizza. Of course, that was nothing compared to the vanilla ice-cream and ketchup topping concoction she had him making a month ago.
While it all led to funny situations, it was also disgusting.
He was more than happy to appease her strange desires, though.
“Pepperoni and cheese,” Viviana said, bringing him from his musings.
“That sounds good.” Actually, it sounded great. Anton barely ate a thing all day and his insides were now trying to feed on themselves. “So—”
A slight movement over Viviana’s shoulder caught his eye. Just beyond the stone fence that surrounded their backyard, an unmarked, grey car sat on the back road. The window was rolled down. Anton could see the lens of the camera sticking out the window. There was no doubt in his mind it was a federal car, and his anger swelled at the sight.
What in the hell gave them the right to be taking pictures of him and his wife in their backyard? It wasn’t like Anton was in the middle of a business meeting or brandishing a gun for the neighbourhood to see. Being the head of his family, a family that dealt heavily in the world of organized crime, it wasn’t unusual for the feds to be around. That didn’t mean he liked it.
Instinctively, Anton’s hand covered Viviana’s stomach, wanting to somehow shield his pregnant wife from the photographs. He knew it was useless, but he still bared his teeth and openly glared at the camera.
Fuck them.
He hadn’t been doing anything to warrant the feds following him, never mind picture taking. If they wanted to play that game anywhere else, Anton didn’t care, but not as his house. Usually there was always a car parked near their home. Some idiots attempting to catch a bit of Russian mob action, but this was different.
It even felt different to Anton.
After Tatiana’s appearance earlier in the day, and her father blowing Anton off later, the boss was two seconds away from losing his patience.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Viviana’s worried voice resounded above the rushing rage pulsing blood in Anton’s ears. He hid the anger on his face with a tender smile. The deflection didn’t work. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; Viviana knew him better than anyone. His wife was already trying to turn around to look in the direction of where his gaze had travelled. Anton diverted her attention with another kiss.
“Come on, let’s go inside and get Rocco out of this heat,” he murmured, his hand finding the small of her back.
The dog in question perked up at his name. With a low bark, it was all the animal offered. Anton assumed he must have been given his pain medication for the day. The German shepherd hadn’t even gotten up to greet his master like he usually did. The meds always made the pup sleepy and weak.
“But—”
“No buts,” Anton interrupted, glancing back at the car with its camera still trained on them. He didn’t want whoever that was taking more pictures of them than they already had. God knew how long they’d been out there as it was before he returned home. “In the house, Vine.”
“Okay.”
Following his lead, Viviana chancing a glance behind them. Sure enough, her gaze narrowed and a slight pink reddened her cheeks.
“Anton, why are they photographing us?”
“I don’t know,” he said gruffly.
“Has that been happening a lot?” she asked as they started up the steps.
The Bratva boss sighed heavily. Bending down, he gathered the dog in his arms, being mindful of the sensitive areas that hurt Rocco when they were touched. He didn’t know what to say to Viviana, honestly. Yes, they’d been following him a little more recently, but no one understood why.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But don’t worry about it, baby.”
Her brown eyes met his as her bottom lip disappeared under her white teeth. “How can I not?”
How, indeed.
It was the ways and rules of their life, and no one played fair.
*
Anton rested between Viviana’s legs, his hands acting as a pillow on her stomach while he watched her read. The textbook in her hands barely received any attention at all. Whenever her husband was around, her mind wandered more than usual.
Tonight was no exception.
“Quit watching me,” she whined behind the book.
“I can’t.” Anton offered nothing else as an explanation. Shifting his form a little, he moved up Viviana’s rounded midsection. Pushing her maternity tank away from her flesh, he kissed and spoke in a language she still hadn’t bothered to learn. Finally, his words turned to English again. “For God’s sake, would you pick a name for this boy of mine already?”
The textbook was tossed to the sheets, forgotten. “Is that what you’re muttering about down there? That he doesn’t have a name yet?”
Anton shrugged his broad shoulders. “No.”
“What do you say, then?”
“Things.”
Viviana knew her lover wasn’t one to be shy, so his change indemeanor had her curiosity perking. With another movement, Anton allowed her to sit up.
“Did you get anything out of that lecture this morning?” Anton asked.
Viviana didn’t miss the deflection tactic for a second. “No, it was a waste of my time as usual. Did something happen that I didn’t hear about on the news? Are you in trouble?”
Anton’s eyes widened at her brazen question. “I’d tell you if there were.”
“Would you? There are feds photographing me behind our home. At least I assume it’s federal. Erik and Ivan are missing lately. If something is about to go down, I would appreciate getting a heads up about it. What’s going on?”
“I really don’t know,” Anton said almost gently. The heated blue of his gaze bore into hers with an openness that told Viviana he was telling the truth the best he could. She knew sometimes Anton held things back from her, not because he wanted to, but because he knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. “I swear to God if I did, I would tell you.”
Nodding, Viviana reached for her textbook and whispered, “Okay.”
“The moment we hear anything, you’ll know. I wouldn’t keep it from you if it was something terribly important or imminent.”
“We?”
“Erik is doing his job, so is Ivan. We are all working on figuring it out. Maybe the guys haven’t been around because we’re trying not to bring any more attention here than what’s already been around, Vine. I know it’s tough, but …”
Viviana didn’t tune him out, but she didn’t need to hear the same speech again, either. There was a certain level of faith she had to put into her husband. If he thought she had to worry, Viviana had to find trust that he would let her know. Because of his boss status in his crime family, the feds were always trying to take down the king pin before hacking away at the rest. Why only harm the outer shell when you can take out the jugular and go straight for the kill?
“You’re going to be here, right? You say you don’t know what’s going on, and I’ll take that for what it’s worth as your word because it’s you, Anton. But I need to know you’re going to be here for this.”
“What?” Anton turned back to her, his eyes sharp and his mouth set down into a frown. “For what, baby?”
“Him,” Viviana said, pointing to her stomach. The baby always fell asleep whenever she was resting in their bed. She hoped he was as good about sleeping outside of the womb as he was inside. “I can’t do all of this by myself.”
Anton blinked back at her, emotions crossing his handsome features one after another, never settling down on one thing. He appeared torn, saddened, confused, and hurt all at once. Viviana didn’t purposely set out of make him feel that way. Rarely did she bring up the prospects of his profession and their life, but she still knew there were things that had to be said.
“I just can’t, Anton. We’ve only got a couple of months left before he’s here.”
When he didn’t give her a response, Viviana sighed and opened her textbook again. Minutes passed by as she read. Silence covered the bedroom but for the rhythmic sounds of the couple’s breathing. Fully engrossed in the study of biology, she nearly missed Anton’s deep voice that turned uncharacteristically soft.
“I tell him his mother is pretty damned amazing. That she’s beautiful and intelligent, but stubborn as hell.” Viviana’s breath caught as Anton’s thumbs rolled around her navel, and he continued speaking. “I tell him there’s a whole world of people just waiting to see his face, but no one more eager for his arrival than you and me. I say that I hope he’s nothing like me in a lot of ways, but just the same in so many others. I tell him hopes and fears … I have lots of those, Viviana.”
The textbook dropped from her hands, resting to her chest. Viviana listened to her husband hum a sweet tune and trace loopy pathways over her exposed midsection with his fingers. To her, there was nothing better than seeing Anton at an honorably vulnerable place.
When doors closed, she still got him just the way she liked.
“But most of all …” Anton said with a tender smile, “I tell him that I love him.”
Viviana cleared her throat, forcing back the emotions and tears threatening to rise. “It has to be Russian? The name, I mean.” Anton nodded silently. “I picked up a few books, but nothing caught my eye. It’s just lists. Nothing seems to fit.”
“I thought you’d go right for the namesake,” he replied, chuckling.
“Anton did cross my mind for a second, but more for the middle.” Viviana scrunched up her nose. “Is that what you want?”
“No. He has to have his own to make his way. You understand?”
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe Daniil?” Viviana suggested the name as she reached down to brush away the black wisps of his hair that had fallen over the eyes she wanted to see. “Your mom would really appreciate that.”
“Again, making his own way,” Anton said, lifting his shoulder dismissively.
“Does the meaning of the name have to be terribly important?”
Another graze of his hand over the unblemished plains of her stomach had Viviana’s body turning into a puddle of want and desire. Starting in on her final months of the pregnancy had dimmed her sexual appetite, and she worried her lack of desire would send Anton off running to find it elsewhere. That didn’t happen. Anton seemed to find the things to say or do to have her need for him flaring up with a power she simply couldn’t ignore. Like now.
“Not if you don’t want it to be,” he said, laying a kiss below her breast. It wasn’t long before he had her shirt pulled up and tossed away, the textbook pushed to the bed sheets. “It just … has to sound strong—feel important. He has to be able to own it.”
“Alexei means defender.”
“That’s nice. You’re getting warmer.”
A few random names that had managed to stick out in Viviana’s memory were on the tip of her tongue. “Vadim?”
Anton made a face. “No.”
“Marat?”
“No, Viviana,” Anton mumbled, kissing the swell of her tender breast. Then, he leaned up and said, “It reminds me of something like Igor. I don’t want to give him a name that doesn’t fit in being said in English. There had to be one name you really liked.”
Viviana pursed her lips, considering the many baby name books she’d read since finding out their baby was a boy. There had been one name, but she wasn’t sure if it would fit well for a Russian Bratva child. Especially for theirs, considering the Avdonins seemed to really prefer their names to be wholly Russian and well suited to the child.
“Well, how about Demyan?” Viviana was thoroughly enjoying the view of Anton tugging off his shirt. Her husband froze, the action making her nerves grow. “I mean, I know it’s the equivalent of Damien in a way, but it still has that Russian ring and style. It’s strong and fits in. I kind of liked that one. But if you don’t, then that’s okay.”
“Demyan.” Anton tilted his head, his fingers drumming a tantalizing beat to her side. “And what about for the rest?”
“I think the middle names should reflect the footsteps he’s following, because you can say he’s making his own way all you want, but he’s still an Avdonin. Your middle name is Daniil, and I really wanted your given name somewhere in there. So if we add in Daniil, it’s almost a repeat of yours, anyway. You don’t want that. So, Anton Nicoli for the middle, then.”
“Say it for me, all of it. I want to hear it from you first.”
“Demyan Anton Nicoli Avdonin,” Viviana said, smiling nervously. Names were so important, especially for this boy she carried. After all, it would be his first title, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, so much was already expected for Anton’s son. “What do you think?”
The flash of his movement as he leaned down over her, his face coming to stop just a millimeter from hers, was a flurry in her vision. The brilliant grin overtaking his features washed every worry she had down the drain. When his hands weaved into her hair, his thumbs sweeping along her neck, Viviana sighed into his touch. Instantly, she was relaxed again
“You like?” Viviana asked, breathless.
“Love,” Anton said fiercely. “It’s fucking perfect.”
Copyright © 2014 by Bethany-Kris. All rights reserved.
Anton glanced up from the case displaying watches at the jeweler’svoice. Richard, his usual jeweler, sent him to this particular place of business for the piece he was looking for.
After all, pearls were a speciality for some. For others, they were only a fancy.
“And?” Anton asked.
The jeweler produced three black velvet cases from under the counter. The first held a two stranded, white pearl design. A bit too simplistic for what Anton desired. He waved off the necklace, his gaze travelling to the second. Larger pearls with a pink sheen rested on a white gold strand of thin chain, each globe separated by a good inch of space. It was intended to hang low on the chest of the person wearing it.
“This is a bit long,” Anton said.
“It’s meant to draw attention to the clothes being worn, and not so much the pearls.”
“I want to show off the woman, not her clothes.”
“Ah, point taken.” With a faint smirk, the jeweler waved at the third. “This may be more to your liking, then.”
Anton went back to surveying the final piece with little interest. Much like the first one, it was a simple white design, only instead of two strands, there were four. Even with the simplicity of it, the jewelry still screamed flashy. It wasn’t long enough to be called a necklace, in his opinion, as it looked short enough to be more of a choker.
Anton wasn’t trying to brand his wife with a collar.
“No. None of these.”
The jeweler seemed struck speechless. “None?”
“They’re not to my wife’s tastes or style. She wears the jewelry, not the other way around.” With a sigh, Anton asked, “What about grey pearls?”
“Grey?”
Anton shrugged. “Why not? If you have them, I’d like to see them.”
“I do, but they’re very …”
“Expensive? I don’t care, show me.”
Money was the least of his concerns. People usually assumed the more expensive the jewelry, the flashier it was. That wasn’t always the case. Sometimes the most costly pieces came in modest designs. It was about the quality, not the quantity.
As Anton said, his wife wore the jewelry, the jewelry didn’t wear her. Viviana Avdonin didn’t need accessories to class her up, she did that all on her own.
The jeweler wasn’t gone but five seconds before a feminine form saddled up beside Anton at the counter. Slender fingers reached down to caress the rows of pearls left resting in their precious velvet. Each digit was adorned with rings that glittered off the lighting in the shop.
One of those rings in particular, Anton recognized.
The hackles on the back of his neck raised in his disgust and anger. “Tatiana.”
“Anton.” Tatiana purred his name, leaning on the counter with one arm. The low cut dress she wore showcased her cleavage, opening further as she stretched over the counter to snag the third case of pearls, dragging them towards her. “Funny meeting you here.”
Anton beat back his scowl. “Yes, funny.”
Tatiana Belov was the devil in a pretty package. Slender, tall, and curvaceous in all the places that mattered, she didn’t lack male attention. Her blue eyes stung like steel, her blonde hair perfectly managed in waves, and an attitude that said she’d take all or nothing. Less than two years before, after Anton rejected her, she’d attempted to burn his club to the ground. Less than one year ago, the vile woman cornered his soon-to-be wife and verbally attacked her.
Being an old lover of his, Tatiana was due her jealousies. Anton didn’t deny her that, but he had thought he made it clear as to his lack of interest or desire to have her again. Especially now that he and Viviana were married.
“What are you doing here, Tatiana?”
“Visiting a friend,” she said vaguely. “These are beautiful.”
Anton rolled his eyes. She would think they were something, if the jewelry she wore was any indication. Beyond that, Anton knew Tatiana enjoyed the expensive things that came along with living in the mafia lifestyle. Clothes that were on the runway only weeks ago, gems the size of large marbles, and vehicles that were drool-worthy … No, the girl didn’t lack in her tastes.
Unfortunately, her father indulged her far too much. Spoiled, beautiful, and rich, Tatiana was every man’s worst nightmare. She wasn’t wife material, she spread her legs to get what she wanted, and her mean streak couldn’t be contained. Anton didn’t trust her in the least.
Speaking of which … “I have a sit down with your father later today. Is that why you’re here?”
“Do you?” Tatiana at least had the decency to look surprised. “I didn’t know. Should I call—”
“Cut the shit,” Anton interrupted coldly. “What do you want, Tati?”
“Nothing. I told you, I’m visiting a friend.”
The way she cooed the word twisted something in Anton’s gut. Instincts or nerves, whatever someone wanted to call it, he had it in the gallons. When they acted up, Anton tended to take notice.
“I told you the last time we met up that you were not to come back here, Tati.”
Tatiana tapped her manicured nail to the glass counter. “No, you told me to stay out of your territory. I’ve not been in Brighton Beach since. You don’t own Brooklyn as a whole, Anton.”
Fuck, he hated that was true.
“Why do I doubt this is just a random meeting?”
“Well, it is,” Tatiana said, unbothered. “I noticed your car outside when I was leaving a shop across the street and came to say hello. Surely we can be friends, can’t we?”
No, Anton thought.
Before he could respond, the jeweler was making his way towards them from the back of the shop. Only one case rested in his hands. The man didn’t even acknowledge the girl now standing at his counter, as he seemed wholly focused on the velvet he held so carefully.
“Mr. Avdonin, these may be just what you’re looking for. Three strands, grey pearls ranging from small to large going from the top of the strand to the bottom with a diamond studded clasp at the back. They stay in my vault, as they were purchased for a specific customer who changed his mind last minute. They are much too expensive to be out here with the others. I only bring them out on request. Please do not touch unless wearing gloves.”
Anton liked this man. He was straightforward and blunt. There was something to be said for those qualities.
“The price?” Anton asked.
The pearls were laid to the glass in their case, and Anton knew instantly they were the ones.
“Eight,” the jeweler answered.
“Thousand?” Tatiana asked.
The man across the counter snorted, causing Anton to smirk. “No, my dear. Eight-hundred thousand. Imported, specially designed, and meant for the proper woman.”
With those words, the jeweler tossed Tatiana a baleful look. She was not the kind of woman he would expect to see toting pearls of these calibre. She couldn’t hold the weight of them, so to speak.
“These will fit Viviana just fine, don’t you think, Tatiana?” Anton asked, stating her name for the benefit of the jeweler.
Tatiana didn’t bother to hide her glower. “Perfect, I’m sure.”
Satisfied, Anton turned back to the counter. “My wife will be pleased, thank you. Ready them for me.”
Again, the man seemed thunderstruck. “Just like that?”
“I like them. I think it’s an appropriate gift for my wife for the birth of our child. Why not?”
At the word birth, Tatiana took an entire step back. The expression she sported could only be described as slapped. “Pregnant?”
“Mmhmm,” Anton hummed, turning on his heel to face her. “Very pregnant, actually. We’re having a little boy.”
Tatiana swallowed a gulp of nothing. “Congratulations are in order, then.”
Were they? The last thing this female seemed like she wanted to do was congratulate him or Viviana. Even so, Anton sincerely hoped whatever fancy Tatiana might have previously held for him disappeared with the knowledge that his wife was carrying his child, and he had no interest in her, now.
“I should go,” Tatiana said softy, her brow furrowing. “My friend …”
Anton waved her off. “Sure. I do have a meeting to get to, after all.”
“Tell Viviana I said hello, Anton.”
Absolutely not.
*
“Vine?”
When Anton’s wife didn’t immediately answer his yell, he knew where he’d find her.
Wife.
Goddamn, he loved calling her that.
Anton quickly made his way to the back of the house. Passing the maid’s room, he noticed Clarissa wasn’t in her usual spot reading. The house didn’t smell like food, either. That was the most unusual.
Viviana attended school three days a week, but they didn’t miss an evening meal together. While Clarissa did most of the cooking in their home, his wife nearly always had her hands in the pot when it came to supper.
“Viviana?” Anton called out her name again when he came up to the sliding glass doors. The main door was opened, but the screen was shut tight. “You out there, baby?”
Sure enough, as he pushed open the door he found everyone lounging in the backyard. Clarissa, perched up on one of the benches, had a book in her hands. Rocco slept on his plush pillow. Viviana, the one Anton searched for first, was out in the middle of the backyard soaking up sunshine on a blanket.
Anton grinned at the sight. It was unusually warm for late April. A muggy heat was sweeping New York. Viviana, nearly seven months pregnant, couldn’t stand the weather half of the time and then the other half she downright loved it. He couldn’t keep up with his pregnant wife’s moods. Not that he complained. There was no way in hell Anton would ever be able to understand the changes her body was going through for his child.
But he adored every fucking minute of it.
“Hey, baby.”
Viviana’s head turned to the side at his quiet greeting, her dark hair spilling to green grass as she smiled. “Hey.”
The cellphone in his pocket buzzed with a gentle tune. Anton ignored it. Like hell was he about to take calls for the Bratva. Give him an hour with his wife. That was all he asked of his guys. Unfortunately, his job as a mafia boss never really ended. There was always some issue or opinion needing immediate attention. When the phone buzzed with its call again, Anton slipped his hand inside his slacks and silenced the offending device.
Nothing on earth was more important than the brown-eyed beauty resting on the lawn with her hand perched at the top of her rounded stomach. Viviana was life to Anton. She breathed it into him every moment of the day. Somehow, she managed to remind him that despite his occupation, he could still be him.
“How did the sit down go?” Viviana asked.
She attempted to prop herself up, struggling in the cutest way. Anton quickly crossed the porch and then the back lawn to help her. Standing upright, she offered him a sheepish smile.
Anton wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his lips to her forehead. “It didn’t happen.”
“No?”
“Nope,” he replied with a shrug. “Clearly Sergei still hasn’t forgiven me for breaking his face, not that I give a fuck.”
Sergei Belov was a man, much like Anton, who ran his Bratva in his territory of New Jersey. Seven or so months earlier, the two men ended up in a disagreement of sorts when the Jersey boss slandered Viviana and Anton retaliated physically. It was only recently that they had attempted making peace again. Unfortunately, Sergei’s tactic of setting up the sit down and then not following through was as good as a shunning to Anton. It was, for all purposes, a signed death warrant.
“What’s going to happen now?” Viviana asked.
Anton decided to evade the question. He wasn’t entirely sure how he wanted to handle the situation with Sergei. And he certainly didn’t want to bring up Tatiana’s unexpected, unwanted presence and concern his wife.
“How was your day?”
“Long.” Viviana frowned unhappily. “The air conditioner in the lecture hall was broken all morning. I managed to forget where the bathroom was in the third wing and nearly peed myself. Your son thinks my bladder is his personal soccer ball.”
“He doesn’t mean it.”
Seemingly at the sound of his father’s voice, the baby boy pressed some appendage against the heel of Anton’s palm. By rolling his thumb over the spot, the baby finally relaxed inside his mother’s womb. Viviana huffed a breath of relief. Every time he kicked or stretched that hard, she swore the child was trying to put her into early labor.
“Yeah, Papa’s home, little man,” Anton said, smiling.
“Still going with Papa, huh?”
“It’s what I called my father, and what he called Nicoli. Call me whatever you want to him, but he’s going to know me as Papa, Vine. Mark my words.”
Viviana’s beautiful face lit up with bliss. “I bet if he’d have been a girl, it would have been Daddy all the way.”
Maybe. There was something about his first child being a boy that had him twisted into a million and one little knots. Especially when one of his guys asked how the little prince was doing and Anton realized for the first time, they weren’t asking about him. Oh, he’d been beyond ecstatic to find out they were having a boy. There weren’t enough words for him to use to explain his excitement. Pride and love were the closest, though.
“Ouch!” Viviana made a miserable noise, her hand coming to press under her lower rib. Anton moved his hand accordingly. “Damn it, that one hurt.”
“He doesn’t mean it,” he repeated, practically cooing the words. “He’s just strong and impatient, like me.”
“I know.” Viviana’s hand found his as the baby kicked again. “But he still has a couple of more months to go, so he can simmer Papa’s attitude right down.”
If only some of Anton’s men could see him now. They probably wouldn’t know what to think. Anton was known for being a hard-ass, cutthroat boss. One with a mighty fucking temper and little patience for nonsense. His behavior with Viviana was the complete opposite.
With Viviana’s hand pressing to Anton’s chest, she leaned closer into his embrace.
“Missed you today. No problems, right?”
Viviana shook her head. “Nope.”
“Good.”
“Did you see Daniil this morning?” she asked.
Anton flinched inwardly, fighting off the immediate rush of sadness that flushed his veins like poison. “Yeah, but he didn’t talk much. Slept through most of my visit.”
His father’s sickness had progressed to its very final stages. At the most, the doctors gave him a couple of short months, which was better than what they had predicted before. Daniil was a fighter, and he wasn’t about to miss his first grandchild’s birth. Even if Daniil wouldn’t admit it, Anton knew that was what his father was waiting for.
“And Sasha?”
“Tired.”
Viviana didn’t seem to have a reply, so he settled for holding her close as the warm April evening descended down. The gentle stillness settling between the couple had Anton sighing. This was his happiest time, the moments he waited and worked for every damned day. Between feds that tailed him and guys that constantly called, the only thing on his mind was his wife.
Seemingly sensing Anton’s lingering sadness, Viviana fisted his shirt and pulled him down to meet her for a kiss. Her front pressed to his as their mouths connected with a slow building passion. Anton relished in the way her fingers curled tighter, the taste and heat of her parting lips that moved in sync with his. Allowing his hands to wander, he trailed his grip up her sides, feeling his wife shiver under his touch.
Slowly, Anton pulled away, letting her gentle pecks dot down to the line of his jaw. “Did you want to go out for supper?”
“Nope.” Viviana smiled. “I was craving pizza something awful, so we ordered in. It should be here anytime.”
Ah, well that explained the lack of food when he arrived home.
“Craving, huh? Nothing weird, I hope.”
Anton was only half teasing. After the soup mess the week before, well, Viviana could have ordered something nasty to be put on the pizza. Of course, that was nothing compared to the vanilla ice-cream and ketchup topping concoction she had him making a month ago.
While it all led to funny situations, it was also disgusting.
He was more than happy to appease her strange desires, though.
“Pepperoni and cheese,” Viviana said, bringing him from his musings.
“That sounds good.” Actually, it sounded great. Anton barely ate a thing all day and his insides were now trying to feed on themselves. “So—”
A slight movement over Viviana’s shoulder caught his eye. Just beyond the stone fence that surrounded their backyard, an unmarked, grey car sat on the back road. The window was rolled down. Anton could see the lens of the camera sticking out the window. There was no doubt in his mind it was a federal car, and his anger swelled at the sight.
What in the hell gave them the right to be taking pictures of him and his wife in their backyard? It wasn’t like Anton was in the middle of a business meeting or brandishing a gun for the neighbourhood to see. Being the head of his family, a family that dealt heavily in the world of organized crime, it wasn’t unusual for the feds to be around. That didn’t mean he liked it.
Instinctively, Anton’s hand covered Viviana’s stomach, wanting to somehow shield his pregnant wife from the photographs. He knew it was useless, but he still bared his teeth and openly glared at the camera.
Fuck them.
He hadn’t been doing anything to warrant the feds following him, never mind picture taking. If they wanted to play that game anywhere else, Anton didn’t care, but not as his house. Usually there was always a car parked near their home. Some idiots attempting to catch a bit of Russian mob action, but this was different.
It even felt different to Anton.
After Tatiana’s appearance earlier in the day, and her father blowing Anton off later, the boss was two seconds away from losing his patience.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Viviana’s worried voice resounded above the rushing rage pulsing blood in Anton’s ears. He hid the anger on his face with a tender smile. The deflection didn’t work. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; Viviana knew him better than anyone. His wife was already trying to turn around to look in the direction of where his gaze had travelled. Anton diverted her attention with another kiss.
“Come on, let’s go inside and get Rocco out of this heat,” he murmured, his hand finding the small of her back.
The dog in question perked up at his name. With a low bark, it was all the animal offered. Anton assumed he must have been given his pain medication for the day. The German shepherd hadn’t even gotten up to greet his master like he usually did. The meds always made the pup sleepy and weak.
“But—”
“No buts,” Anton interrupted, glancing back at the car with its camera still trained on them. He didn’t want whoever that was taking more pictures of them than they already had. God knew how long they’d been out there as it was before he returned home. “In the house, Vine.”
“Okay.”
Following his lead, Viviana chancing a glance behind them. Sure enough, her gaze narrowed and a slight pink reddened her cheeks.
“Anton, why are they photographing us?”
“I don’t know,” he said gruffly.
“Has that been happening a lot?” she asked as they started up the steps.
The Bratva boss sighed heavily. Bending down, he gathered the dog in his arms, being mindful of the sensitive areas that hurt Rocco when they were touched. He didn’t know what to say to Viviana, honestly. Yes, they’d been following him a little more recently, but no one understood why.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But don’t worry about it, baby.”
Her brown eyes met his as her bottom lip disappeared under her white teeth. “How can I not?”
How, indeed.
It was the ways and rules of their life, and no one played fair.
*
Anton rested between Viviana’s legs, his hands acting as a pillow on her stomach while he watched her read. The textbook in her hands barely received any attention at all. Whenever her husband was around, her mind wandered more than usual.
Tonight was no exception.
“Quit watching me,” she whined behind the book.
“I can’t.” Anton offered nothing else as an explanation. Shifting his form a little, he moved up Viviana’s rounded midsection. Pushing her maternity tank away from her flesh, he kissed and spoke in a language she still hadn’t bothered to learn. Finally, his words turned to English again. “For God’s sake, would you pick a name for this boy of mine already?”
The textbook was tossed to the sheets, forgotten. “Is that what you’re muttering about down there? That he doesn’t have a name yet?”
Anton shrugged his broad shoulders. “No.”
“What do you say, then?”
“Things.”
Viviana knew her lover wasn’t one to be shy, so his change indemeanor had her curiosity perking. With another movement, Anton allowed her to sit up.
“Did you get anything out of that lecture this morning?” Anton asked.
Viviana didn’t miss the deflection tactic for a second. “No, it was a waste of my time as usual. Did something happen that I didn’t hear about on the news? Are you in trouble?”
Anton’s eyes widened at her brazen question. “I’d tell you if there were.”
“Would you? There are feds photographing me behind our home. At least I assume it’s federal. Erik and Ivan are missing lately. If something is about to go down, I would appreciate getting a heads up about it. What’s going on?”
“I really don’t know,” Anton said almost gently. The heated blue of his gaze bore into hers with an openness that told Viviana he was telling the truth the best he could. She knew sometimes Anton held things back from her, not because he wanted to, but because he knew she wouldn’t want to hear it. “I swear to God if I did, I would tell you.”
Nodding, Viviana reached for her textbook and whispered, “Okay.”
“The moment we hear anything, you’ll know. I wouldn’t keep it from you if it was something terribly important or imminent.”
“We?”
“Erik is doing his job, so is Ivan. We are all working on figuring it out. Maybe the guys haven’t been around because we’re trying not to bring any more attention here than what’s already been around, Vine. I know it’s tough, but …”
Viviana didn’t tune him out, but she didn’t need to hear the same speech again, either. There was a certain level of faith she had to put into her husband. If he thought she had to worry, Viviana had to find trust that he would let her know. Because of his boss status in his crime family, the feds were always trying to take down the king pin before hacking away at the rest. Why only harm the outer shell when you can take out the jugular and go straight for the kill?
“You’re going to be here, right? You say you don’t know what’s going on, and I’ll take that for what it’s worth as your word because it’s you, Anton. But I need to know you’re going to be here for this.”
“What?” Anton turned back to her, his eyes sharp and his mouth set down into a frown. “For what, baby?”
“Him,” Viviana said, pointing to her stomach. The baby always fell asleep whenever she was resting in their bed. She hoped he was as good about sleeping outside of the womb as he was inside. “I can’t do all of this by myself.”
Anton blinked back at her, emotions crossing his handsome features one after another, never settling down on one thing. He appeared torn, saddened, confused, and hurt all at once. Viviana didn’t purposely set out of make him feel that way. Rarely did she bring up the prospects of his profession and their life, but she still knew there were things that had to be said.
“I just can’t, Anton. We’ve only got a couple of months left before he’s here.”
When he didn’t give her a response, Viviana sighed and opened her textbook again. Minutes passed by as she read. Silence covered the bedroom but for the rhythmic sounds of the couple’s breathing. Fully engrossed in the study of biology, she nearly missed Anton’s deep voice that turned uncharacteristically soft.
“I tell him his mother is pretty damned amazing. That she’s beautiful and intelligent, but stubborn as hell.” Viviana’s breath caught as Anton’s thumbs rolled around her navel, and he continued speaking. “I tell him there’s a whole world of people just waiting to see his face, but no one more eager for his arrival than you and me. I say that I hope he’s nothing like me in a lot of ways, but just the same in so many others. I tell him hopes and fears … I have lots of those, Viviana.”
The textbook dropped from her hands, resting to her chest. Viviana listened to her husband hum a sweet tune and trace loopy pathways over her exposed midsection with his fingers. To her, there was nothing better than seeing Anton at an honorably vulnerable place.
When doors closed, she still got him just the way she liked.
“But most of all …” Anton said with a tender smile, “I tell him that I love him.”
Viviana cleared her throat, forcing back the emotions and tears threatening to rise. “It has to be Russian? The name, I mean.” Anton nodded silently. “I picked up a few books, but nothing caught my eye. It’s just lists. Nothing seems to fit.”
“I thought you’d go right for the namesake,” he replied, chuckling.
“Anton did cross my mind for a second, but more for the middle.” Viviana scrunched up her nose. “Is that what you want?”
“No. He has to have his own to make his way. You understand?”
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe Daniil?” Viviana suggested the name as she reached down to brush away the black wisps of his hair that had fallen over the eyes she wanted to see. “Your mom would really appreciate that.”
“Again, making his own way,” Anton said, lifting his shoulder dismissively.
“Does the meaning of the name have to be terribly important?”
Another graze of his hand over the unblemished plains of her stomach had Viviana’s body turning into a puddle of want and desire. Starting in on her final months of the pregnancy had dimmed her sexual appetite, and she worried her lack of desire would send Anton off running to find it elsewhere. That didn’t happen. Anton seemed to find the things to say or do to have her need for him flaring up with a power she simply couldn’t ignore. Like now.
“Not if you don’t want it to be,” he said, laying a kiss below her breast. It wasn’t long before he had her shirt pulled up and tossed away, the textbook pushed to the bed sheets. “It just … has to sound strong—feel important. He has to be able to own it.”
“Alexei means defender.”
“That’s nice. You’re getting warmer.”
A few random names that had managed to stick out in Viviana’s memory were on the tip of her tongue. “Vadim?”
Anton made a face. “No.”
“Marat?”
“No, Viviana,” Anton mumbled, kissing the swell of her tender breast. Then, he leaned up and said, “It reminds me of something like Igor. I don’t want to give him a name that doesn’t fit in being said in English. There had to be one name you really liked.”
Viviana pursed her lips, considering the many baby name books she’d read since finding out their baby was a boy. There had been one name, but she wasn’t sure if it would fit well for a Russian Bratva child. Especially for theirs, considering the Avdonins seemed to really prefer their names to be wholly Russian and well suited to the child.
“Well, how about Demyan?” Viviana was thoroughly enjoying the view of Anton tugging off his shirt. Her husband froze, the action making her nerves grow. “I mean, I know it’s the equivalent of Damien in a way, but it still has that Russian ring and style. It’s strong and fits in. I kind of liked that one. But if you don’t, then that’s okay.”
“Demyan.” Anton tilted his head, his fingers drumming a tantalizing beat to her side. “And what about for the rest?”
“I think the middle names should reflect the footsteps he’s following, because you can say he’s making his own way all you want, but he’s still an Avdonin. Your middle name is Daniil, and I really wanted your given name somewhere in there. So if we add in Daniil, it’s almost a repeat of yours, anyway. You don’t want that. So, Anton Nicoli for the middle, then.”
“Say it for me, all of it. I want to hear it from you first.”
“Demyan Anton Nicoli Avdonin,” Viviana said, smiling nervously. Names were so important, especially for this boy she carried. After all, it would be his first title, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, so much was already expected for Anton’s son. “What do you think?”
The flash of his movement as he leaned down over her, his face coming to stop just a millimeter from hers, was a flurry in her vision. The brilliant grin overtaking his features washed every worry she had down the drain. When his hands weaved into her hair, his thumbs sweeping along her neck, Viviana sighed into his touch. Instantly, she was relaxed again
“You like?” Viviana asked, breathless.
“Love,” Anton said fiercely. “It’s fucking perfect.”
Copyright © 2014 by Bethany-Kris. All rights reserved.
