Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“Yes, but—”
“Why can’t I go out with Anton?” she demanded again.
Roman sighed, shooting his daughter a look. “If you interrupt me one more time, Viviana—”
“It’s okay for me to marry him, but I can’t go out with him? Because you do realize that means someday I’ll have to sleep in the same bed as him, too, right?”
Silence swept down the table. The dinner had been awkward enough as it was and this only intensified that feeling tenfold. Why his grandfather thought it would be a good idea to spend a week with people who couldn’t even have a conversation with them at a dinner table, Anton didn’t know.
And there weren’t any goddamn pickles on the table.
Russians needed pickles.
Anton figured he pissed quite a few people off today, no need to add more to his pile.
“It’s all right, I get it,” Anton said, standing from the table. He tossed the napkin he’d been holding to his plate. “I’m done, so I’m going out to the beach.”
Anton left the table and the kitchen before anyone said another word. Outside, he found a lounger to rest in before pulling out a pack of cigarettes he picked up earlier and lit one up. By the time his cigarette was half gone, he wasn’t the only one outside.
Tony Carducci rested into a lounger beside Anton’s. “I like the sand and all, but I like New York a whole lot better.”
“I get that,” Anton murmured.
“Cut them some slack, man.”
Anton eyed the guy. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
Same as him, then. “Huh. Are you in with your family?”
“No and I don’t want to be, either.”
“Why?”
Tony shrugged. “Not my style.”
“But your father—”
“Is just my dad,” Tony interjected, unfazed. “I don’t care who he is to anyone else, just to me.”
Anton finished his cigarette and tossed it into a tin can. “They must think I’m going to ruin that girl, or something.”
Tony laughed loud and hard. “Christ, Vine? You couldn’t ruin her if you tried. She’s so fucking stubborn it’s sickening. If she wants something, she’s going to get it. I wouldn’t worry about it, man, give her five minutes.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s about all it’ll take for her to get them to leave her alone so she can do whatever the hell she wants. Vine looks innocent enough, sure.”
“She seems it.”
Tony made a face. “She is, I guess. I shouldn’t have said it like that. My sister is kind of innocent ... a lot. But she knows what she wants, too.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nah, I suppose you wouldn’t. You didn’t grow up in our house.”
“You talk a lot but you don’t really get down to business, do you?” Anton asked.
“Hey, you need to work a little for it, Anton.”
Anton chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure. Just ... don’t abuse it. Ever. You’ve had the power over her for a long time, even if you didn’t know it.”
Yeah, now Anton was really confused. His expression must have shown it.
“See, you’ve got a reputation and don’t think the rest of us don’t know about it,” Tony said quietly, watching the shoreline. “Why the fuck do you think my parents agreed to this trip, anyway? You needed a cool down period. Apparently your bullshit was getting out of hand. Vine doesn’t care about what anyone says or thinks, especially about you. All she’s ever known was that you were supposed to be hers, so that’s what she’s wanted.”
It didn’t take Anton long to catch up to speed.
He spend most of his life hating a girl he didn’t know at all.
It took him a blink to want to know her.
A second to fall for her.
But she always wanted him.
“So yeah,” Tony added, giving Anton another look. “Don’t abuse that.”
*
“Favorite color?” Anton asked, rolling to his side in the sand.
“Blue,” Viviana answered immediately. “Yours?”
Brown, now.
“I thought you wanted to have fun?”
Anton leaned up enough to see down the beach. Fire crackled in the middle of the party, different colors shooting up from the burning logs. The people were still loud, drinking, and he wasn’t sure where Viviana’s brother had disappeared to but for the fact the girl had legs for days.
“I am having fun,” Viviana whispered, poking him in the stomach lightly.
Anton sunk back down to his back into the sand, using his arms as a pillow. “I’m not always fun.”
“When aren’t you fun?” she asked.
“When I’m working.”
Viviana arched an eyebrow high, looking like she didn’t believe him for a minute. Reaching over, she touched the edges of the black roses on his pec. “You get these for joining, right?”
“In the Bratva, yes.”
“Huh.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No,” she said. “Do you have stars, too?”
Anton blinked up at the dark sky, surprised she knew anything about that. “Not yet.”
“But you will.”
“Someday.”
Maybe then they’d quit calling him the little prince. Anton doubted it.
Viviana sighed. “Italians don’t do tattoos for initiations.”