Page 76 of The Arrangement

“Man, come on,” Ivan hissed, arms circling his waist to pull him back.

“You’re dead,” Anton repeated in English, swinging out with another hit that landed hard on the man who was just being pulled away. “Get that piece of shit out of my fucking territory before I paint the walls with his brain matter!”

Anton slammed Ivan off of him, sliding off the table and fixing the arm of his jacket. When he realized there were blood stains on the cuff, he cussed and tugged the damned thing off. Tossing the offensive item at Rory, Anton turned to walk away. Sergei was still laying prone on the floor with the men who had escorted him in attempting to bring him out of the semi-unconscious state.

“I said get him out! Make sure that he wakes up in the parking lot of a hospital in his territory so he gets the goddamn point. His daughter will be right on her way to meet him, too. And get rid of that jacket, Rory.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

One issue down, one more to go. Anton’s previous buzz was all but gone. He was just plain and simple pissed off, now. People on the floor separated without looking the Russian boss in the eyes. It wasn’t the first time something bad had gone down in the club and it wouldn’t be the last. With a predator’s gaze and a smooth, fast stride, he found the back entrance to the club with Ivan close on his heels.

“Shit, you just caused a big issue, Anton.”

“You heard what he called her.”

“I know … I know.”

“Yeah, you fucking know. And if that was Eva, you’d have cut out his tongue.”

Ivan huffed. “Not the point.”

Anton turned fast, his hands coming up to slam into Ivan’s chest hard. “Then what is the point, huh? I let him call her that because her mother made a mistake—one she probably paid a dozen times over for—and then everybody else assumes it’s okay for them to label her with that title, too?”

“No—”

“He said it like the fact that Nicoli is her father didn’t even make a difference! Never mind that she’s got more Russian in her blood than his own daughter, or that she’s going to be my wife … a Pakhan’s wife, no, only because her mother birthed her. That’s why he called her that. No fucking way, Ivan. Not on my watch. Not in my territory. Not about her.”

When Anton turned around to continue his trek to find Tatiana, he came face to face with his beautiful Viviana. His heart stopped just like his feet. Panic, grief, remorse, and fear roared through his veins. Pain throbbed from his dislocated finger but it didn’t even register to the ache that suddenly took residence in his heart and soul.

That’s not how she should have found out. That was the last way he ever wanted to tell her. Viviana deserved so much better than it to be blurted out in his anger with his back turned and blood on his collar.

Anton damned near stumbled when he jerked forward. “Baby …”

“I want to go home.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Home,” she repeated quietly.

Anton nodded, but he knew there was still something he had to deal with. “Just give me five minutes, okay?”

Viviana blinked, but there was water in her gaze.

Not here, he wanted to tell her. Please don’t do this here.

She could yell and scream at him anywhere but not at the club with all those people watching. A breakdown she deserved if she wanted to have one, and he’d take every punishment she had to give, but not right then.

Anton didn’t have to worry. Only a single silvery tear escaped the corner of those familiar brown eyes before her hand swiped it away. She walked past him just as fast and he watched to make sure she was finding one of her bulls.

Even still, his heart cracked.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I … I just …”

Ivan swallowed audibly behind him. “Anton, breathe.”

Hadn’t he been? “What did I do?”

“It’s—”