Page 20 of The Arrangement

Close enough to read the labeled rooms and spaces on the panel, Viviana saw just how big the ground level of the house really was. With a bedroom, bathroom, and hallway at the back of the house, there was a front entrance with another hallway that led to the stairwell and front entrance to the kitchen. A three level house with a basement and attic meant the home was huge, and she’d only managed to see just a few parts of it.

She wanted to look out the window, gauge where exactly in Brooklyn they were, but Viviana had a feeling she probably shouldn’t. “This is too big to be a normal house,” she realized.

Anton agreed silently, lifting one shoulder in acknowledgement. “Was an apartment building, but I had it renovated a couple years back to join the separated spaces and put the safety measures in. I wanted the possibility that I wouldn’t have to send you out of state somewhere to keep you safe—that we could be together instead of separated.”

“How much did it cost?”

“Enough. Five million, though it was closer to seven once I was done with everything.”

“And it is safe, right, despite the location?”

Anton looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Of course it is, Vine! It’s not attached to my name. The feds haven’t realized this is where I’m staying after I do three car switches before coming home, and your uncle’s idiots haven’t managed to follow me here, yet. We’ll have another week or two at least before someone figures it out, I’m sure.”

“And then what?” she asked. “I imagine your clubs keep you out late, not to mention whatever else. Just … will it be safe then?”

He crossed the floor before she had time to blink, his large hand grasping tight to the curve in her waist while the other lifted up her chin. “I’ll be home every night, or at the least, I will be there for you to wake up to, always. I decided a long time ago that there weren’t a great deal of things more important to me than this right here. If I can’t be home, for whatever reason, I’ll let you know myself. No phone calls from anyone else, only me. A man at both entrances, I told you that last night. Someone capable will always be here. You must know how to shoot a gun, so Ivan will show you where the weapons are located in every room. I thought you were going to trust me?”

“I am,” she insisted. “It’s—”

A low cough interrupted them both. “Mr. Avdonin, Ivan called a half hour ago to say he’ll be a little late getting to the club.”

Anton didn’t turn around, keeping Viviana’s vision blocked. “Where is Rocco?”

“At the back entrance on the mat,” she answered.

“Send him in to meet Viviana, please.”

“Sure.”

A low whistle sounded, followed by two words spoke sharply in Russian. Anton stepped to the side as the sounds of Rocco’s nails hitting the tiled floor echoed down the hallway. It was only then that Viviana finally got a good look at Clarissa, and her older age was surprising. She assumed the woman would be younger, but the lines on her smiling face and the grey in her hair said differently. Keeping her eyes drawn to the floor and avoiding direct contact, her hands were clasped to her front. The maid all but melted into the wall, seemingly wanting to be out of sight.

A jogging Rocco entered the kitchen without hesitating to pass Clarissa by. She didn’t reach out to touch him, and he didn’t stop to acknowledge her presence, either. With a quick snap of two fingers, Anton spoke a low command and rose a palm to the air. Rocco sat, head cocked to the side and big brown eyes looking up, waiting.

He was gorgeous with his short coat, the tan, brown, and black markings brushed and cleaned. With high pointed ears, his body sitting with a disciplined straightness, and a tail that lay flat and unmoving to the floor, he looked commanding. Not at all like a carefree, spoiled house pet, but instead, an animal always on the watch and wait for his next command.

Anton’s finger cut through the air; Rocco stood and moved closer at the silent command, coming to sit at his feet. With one hand, he pet the dog’s head between his ears, lightly, speaking softly in Russian. Viviana looked up to see Clarissa had vanished from her spot against the wall, the panel across the room beeping to say she’d entered the back bedroom.

“Go on,” Anton said with a wave. “Pet him; say hello.”

The animal watched her warily as she bent down. With her knees to the floor, her face was level to his chest. A massive beast with muscles that wrapped his every surface, she could see how he would be frightening to some. But he wasn’t to her. Viviana thought he was just simply beautiful.

“Ciao,” she whispered, her hand out to pet Rocco. When her palm met the spot between his ears, the dog pushed back against the hand instantly. Warmth spread through her insides at the action. “You’re an awfully pretty boy.”

“Pretty.” Anton scoffed under his breath. “He’s a brute, just look at him.” Viviana grinned, sticking out a tongue playfully in response. Amusement spread across Anton’s strong features as she scratched the backs of Rocco’s ears. “He likes it when you rub the tips.”

She did just that, hearing the quiet thumps of the dog’s tail hitting the floor behind him. “Hmm, but he is pretty.”

Anton bent down and rubbed under the dog’s muzzle. “He’s yours, so he can be whatever you want him to be, I guess.” With one word in Russian, Anton lifted the dog’s muzzle and murmured, “Viviana, Rocco.” He repeated the word again, thumb rubbing at the animal’s mouth softly. “Good boy.”

The tail stopped thumping on the floor. Rocco’s large head pushed a little harder against the palm of her hand. “What did you just say?”

Anton smiled, making her skin tingle and lungs expand heavily. With her heart hammering, she watched him reach out and stroke her cheek with two fingers. Viviana couldn’t help herself when she turned her face into his touch, wanting the heat of his palm against her skin.

Something drummed deep in her blood, rushing fast and hard. Her instinct, maybe, recognizing how easy wanting Anton really was for her, just like it always had been. A term like “soul mate” seemed to fit, especially since she seemed to want him closer, needing the feeling of home nearer. From the very start, that’s how he’d always made her feel, scarily so.

“Tvoyo—yours,” Anton explained, his fingers still stroking, and his voice thick with emotions that underlined his words. “Like me, he’s waited a long time to have you with him.”

Chapter Six