Page 16 of The Arrangement

Viviana couldn’t figure out if she was willing enough to let him do it. It didn’t help that she wasn’t all too sure if she knew this man anymore. Was he the same one she wanted all those years ago? Had his feelings remained the same nearly a decade later … was that even possible? Could someone want another that much?

What was even more frightening was that with his blue eyes watching, and his hand connected with hers, waiting, Anton still felt like hers.

Just like he always had.

• • •

The light humming of a sweet melody woke Viviana. Wrapped in blankets and curled on her side, she felt no confusion or sickness as shades were opened and morning light filtered in across the floor of the bedroom. The figure singing low under her breath moved to the next window and drew the shades there as well. With her blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and clothed in jeans and a T-shirt, it took Viviana a few seconds to register who the person was.

“Sasha.”

Anton’s mother turned, her surprise lighting up a pretty face with familiar blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you, Vine,” she murmured quietly. Then, waving off to her side, she added, “He likes the light in the morning, is all. It’s safer given the time of day. I’ll close them if you—”

“No,” Viviana interrupted, sitting up in the bed.

In her new position, she could see the sleeping figure on the small couch against the far wall. Wearing only a pair of cotton pants, Anton slept soundly with his back facing the bed and his arm acting as a pillow. She relaxed at the sight, slightly satisfied at the thought of him being close while she slept. Sasha cleared her throat, embarrassing Viviana at having been caught staring.

“I’m sorry. It’s just … been a while, so it’s surreal.” Her rambling only made Anton’s mother hide a smile by looking back to the windows. “Never mind me. Leave the curtains open if he likes it like that.”

Sasha shrugged, moving quietly to sit on the edge of the bed. “He’ll probably sleep through most of the morning, anyway. The last week and a half has been difficult. You being here puts him more at ease.”

Viviana doubted that, considering Anton’s gun was still firmly seated in his sleeping hand. With the drug induced haze cleared from her mind, she could finally appreciate the ink work on his broad, muscled back that spiraled down to his elbows. The piece took nothing away from the stars on his shoulders, instead weaving around them. It took her a moment to discern between the marking’s loopy pathways and thorny edges just what the tribal pattern was.

Vines.

Vines that covered and entwined with his skin; protecting and touching, dancing across dips and curves as they fell over the sides of his arms and traveled right back up again.

Her heart stopped, she was sure it did.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Sasha asked quietly, her voice barely breaking a murmur. Viviana noticed then that her gaze had followed, too. “He could have went for something a little less…showy…I suppose, but his clothing covers it well enough. I wasn’t pleased when he had it done at first, but like a million other things he’s done since I birthed him, I wasn’t given a choice or the chance to voice an opinion. Anton was always stubborn like that.”

Funny, he wasn’t giving Viviana much of one, either. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

Sasha turned, fingering the silver threads on the comforter. “It’s not my place to step in or speak against the choices they make, Vine, you know that. If your mother were here, she would say the same. And I wish she were, as this conversation would not need to happen. I can explain things to the best of my understanding so long as it doesn’t endanger my family, the organization, or you. Ask me what you wish, and I will make an effort to ease your mind.”

Questioning Sasha on the things Viviana had been told the night before would be useless. Asking about Anton’s grandfather, her father Roman, or their dealings would likely get her nowhere, also. It didn’t matter that nearly ten years ago she was willing to make the choice without fully understanding the weight of her actions because now she did. Anton could preach about safety, family, and the past all he wanted, but it still wouldn’t make the situation better.

“Wanting something doesn’t make it good for you,” Viviana replied, trying desperately to sound indifferent. It came out anything but. “I have to wonder if he understands that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• • •

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