Page 33 of The Arrangement

Cici’s glare turned to ice. “Maybe I should call Daddy and—”

“Cici, look what I found!”

The voice of Lucille Carducci helped to ebb Viviana’s panic, but only for a second. Surely her aunt wouldn’t do a thing to hurt her, but Cici was another matter altogether. Especially if the way her cousin’s eyes narrowed in her direction was any indication. When Viviana’s aunt stepped around the corner, the white bag in her hand dropped to the floor. Surprise wrote lines across Lucille’s soft features.

“Viviana. Oh my God, honey, you need to—”

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Anton’s deep tenor had Viviana turning sharp on her heel to meet his stare.

“We need to go,” she breathed. “Right now.”

He nodded, but the action was wrought with tension and anger. Anton stared over her shoulder, his gaze blazing as he took in the two people behind her in the aisle. There was no doubt in her mind he was thinking the same thing she was about the situation.

“Sure, baby. Are you …?”

“I’m okay, but please, let’s just go.”

“Vine, listen to me—”

Anton’s short bark of laughter had Viviana flinching. “Lucille, right? Sonny’s wife. Tell your husband if we happen to meet up with anyone associated with him like this again, he won’t like the result. Understood?”

“Anton, please,” Viviana whispered.

“Is that understood?” he repeated through clenched teeth.

“Yes, we understand.”

“Good. Be sure your husband does as well.”

• • •

Anton tossed a black gift bag with gold trim across the table. It skidded past Viviana’s head and she barely glanced up over the bridal magazine she was knee deep into reading. Sasha had brought her about ten of them that morning, swearing if Viviana and her son didn’t pick a date soon, she would be picking one for them.

It wasn’t that Viviana didn’t want to, but more she couldn’t figure out which would be best for Anton. When they spoke about it together, he also couldn’t seem to come up with a suitable date that really worked.

“What’s that?” she asked, nodding at the bag.

Ivan slid into the kitchen with a wave at her before sticking his head inside the fridge. Anton didn’t seem to care much, instead shrugging and reaching over to grab a carrot stick off the plate Clarissa had brought for dinner.

“Something I thought you might like.”

Viviana cocked a brow. There had been about fifty different things that continued showing up at the safe house that Anton said she might like, and she did, sure. The credit cards and laptop she had were only a few. And really, that served her purpose just fine. If she needed something, she bought it, typed in the address Anton wanted her to use, and he’d bring it home whenever it arrived.

The graze of his thumb over the apple of her cheek drew her attention up to him again. “Find something you liked in there?”

“Not really.” The answering frown she responded with had her shrugging. “We need to settle on a date then maybe picking out all this nonsense can feel more … fun.”

“Planning weddings aren’t fun,” Ivan muttered, still poking around in the fridge. “It’s fucking torture. My wife spent two years planning ours and between her father and mine, it cost them close to half a mil for twelve hours of hell. Who spends that much money on a wedding? A nice foreign car, sure. A house, absolutely. A wedding, no.”

Viviana suppressed a shudder. “I don’t want do that, Anton.”

“Hmm, do what?”

Apparently, his hand still curving her cheek had all but distracted him. It wasn’t long before those fingers came to dance along the strap of her tank top before trying to dip lower beneath her shirt. She batted his fingers away with a pointed glance at Ivan, who was still trying to find something to chow down on.

It hadn’t taken Viviana long to learn that Anton was an insatiable man. From his businesses, to the things he enjoyed, to getting her into the bedroom, his attention focused and his drive began. At that moment, she was thinking his focus had turned to her and sex again. Especially since it was a little after dinner and his day was all but done.