Page 43 of The Arrangement

“Me,” Anton interrupted sharply, ignoring the wince his father responded with. “It will damn well make her reconsider me, Dad.”

Once more, wetness slipped down his cheeks, betraying him. Anton didn’t cry. He just didn’t. Fuck, his chest hurt like nothing else at just the thought of what could happen if Viviana knew the truth that had been hidden from her for years. It damn near killed him when he found out, but it didn’t make a difference to the things he already felt for her.

“He was clear on his instructions,” Anton muttered, wiping at his face and hiding it from view. “Nicoli didn’t want her to know for her own safety and because she already loved Roman. If she figured it out, that was different. Don’t tell me she wouldn’t stop and think for a moment if that was the only reason why I wanted her married to me; she absolutely would.”

“You’re not giving her enough credit.”

“I love her. I won’t have her believe my desire to marry her is based on whose blood runs through her veins and past mistakes. I won’t fucking do it, and you better not, either.”

Daniil’s chest rattled and Anton immediately felt guilty for pulling the boss rank on his father. This was the time when he should have been nothing more than a worried, saddened son.

That didn’t matter though, because switches got flipped.

They just did.

He would always be Boss first, and Anton second.

• • •

Golden whiskey swirled in the glass as Anton placed the tumbler back down to his desk. After his mother refused to come home and midnight began to approach, he’d found Viviana sleeping with her head on the shoulder of one of her bulls before he took his love home.

They didn’t say a thing on the drive. He white knuckled the steering wheel while pretty brown eyes watched him, all wary and concerned. At his insistence, she showered and readied for bed, but Anton hadn’t joined her when she slipped under their sheets well over an hour before.

The time on his cell phone blinked 2 A.M. The device crashed into the wall seconds later, glass from the screen splintering to the floor. Too much time and too many things on his mind led Anton to the worst place possible.

One glass of whiskey followed two, then three. Three quarters of the bottle was downed and the heavy buzz had settled around his heart and senses. When his fists cracked into the oak of his desk, teeth clenching, the quiet whine of Rocco outside of the office told him he wasn’t quite so alone anymore.

“Fuck,” Anton hissed, watching red bloom so painfully sweet across his knuckles.

Then, the softest knock had him sighing. Despite his rules about the office, Viviana opened the door and slipped in without his permission. Crossing the floor in silence, he found her hands curving up under the suit jacket he still wore. Her mouth trailed gently over his shoulder before her lips pressed to the side of his throat. He swallowed thickly.

“What is it?” Viviana asked. “I’ve been listening to you for the last hour and a half.”

“Nothing. Go back to bed.”

“Are you coming, too?”

Anton scowled at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze. “Not right now.”

“Are you coming at all?”

That stopped his breath up short. “Excuse me?”

“You’d always be there with me in the morning, that’s what you said. But you’re just about ready to drink yourself to sleep in here by the looks of it, and I’ll wake up alone. What’s wrong, Anton? It’s more than just your dad, right?”

“I said it was—”

“Stop lying to me!”

The hurt in her tone rang so clear to him, but his anger had risen, too. Anger for lying, anger for hiding, and anger for not being strong enough to tell her the truth because of his own selfish fears.

“What do you want me to say? You don’t know what it’s like to hide this shit from you. I acted like a shitty son to my father earlier when all he wanted to do was help me! To help us!”

At the widening of her eyes, Anton realized what he had blurted out in his drunkenness. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. I’m just … tired, Vine. Really.”

“Bullshit. I thought you were upset over Daniil, but clearly it’s something else, too. This isn’t the first time you’ve hid something from me. Do you think by omitting it, it’s not a lie?”