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)
“Wow,” Koldan mouthed.
Okay, so maybe Anton still had some issues with letting Ana go.
“Here’s the thing,” Anton continued, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “She’s mine. I got her to drink from a bottle when no one else could, I taught her to walk, her first word was Daddy, and shit ... she came from me, so that makes her mine. I am not the kind of man who gives up anything easily. The problem with you is that I didn’t even see you coming until you were right there and taking her. I don’t like that much, either.”
“This conversation has taken an entirely different turn,” Koldan said, seeming confused.
“No, it’s just been a long time coming. Thank you for managing to get ahold of her before I could kill you, that’s all I’ve got to say.”
Koldan’s jaw fell slack. “Uh.”
“No, really. I knew you were there and clearly you liked her. I’m not blind, but I chose to see the face value of it and not dig deeper. Because if I had noticed, your father would have taken you back to Jersey in a body bag. I tend to jump guns like that. But it’s good you’re able to hide your attachments from others—you’re going to need that in the future. Trust me.”
“Uh, thank you?”
“That’s a start,” Anton muttered heavily. “Listen, she’s a lot like her mother on the outside. She kind of talks like Vine, looks a hell of a lot like her, and she’s saw enough over the years to know where her place is or isn’t. In ten years when you start really stepping into your father’s shoes, you can thank Viviana for Ana’s composure and attitude when she stands at your side. She might not have wanted to be a mob wife, but she didn’t know any damn different, either.”
Anton grinned, pointing at his chest in the form of a gun. “But in here ... in here Ana’s all me. She’s the perfect mix of her mother and father and the best damn thing I ever accomplished next to staying alive. I raised a Queen, kid.”
“I know.”
“So you damn well better give her a fucking kingdom.”
Shortly after Koldan had left the club, Anton picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number. The Jersey boss picked up on the second ring. “Ello, Vasin speaking.”
“Boss,” Anton said, almost snidely.
It had been a long running joke for the two men about who was really the boss between them. Anton’s territory was bigger, but Adrik’s Bratva was slightly larger. There was no competition, really, but for as long as they worked together, the joke would stay.
“Evening, Anton. To what do I owe the pleasure of your fucking crazy tonight?”
“Your kid,” Anton said simply.
Adrik grew silent before saying, “Holy shit, he did it.”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“He caught me on a good day,” Anton mumbled. “Lucky bastard, I might add.”
Adrik laughed. “How badly did you scare him?”
“Bad enough. I fucking hate your kid. I’m still considering killing him.”
Anton wasn’t even joking.
“No, you won’t.”
“I might. Come to me when it’s Sofia, and then we’ll really talk.”
“That’s not going to happen for a while.”
Anton’s point exactly. Adrik lived in delusions where his daughter was concerned. He needed to get a handle on that girl or she was going to run him into a grave before he ever knew what was happening.
“Speaking of Sofia,” Adrik said, growing quieter. “Demyan was—”
“Don’t want to know,” Anton interrupted. “At all.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. Demyan made it clear I was to stay out of his personal business unless he invited me the fuck in. Vera and the Bratva are the only places he lets me have any say or control over him and that’s because he doesn’t get a goddamn choice. I will not push my son further away than he already is. You can’t possibly understand what it’s like for Viviana and me with him, now.
“He is not the man we raised together—he is a shell of that person. All I have left is what he allows me to see and I won’t risk losing it because I’m curious about who he’s sharing his bed with, or what the fuck ever he’s doing with Sofia,” Anton said sharply. “So long as he’s not messing with your streets or men, or causing some kind of trouble, leave me out of it.”
“Will do,” Adrik said quietly.
“I hate your son,” Anton added after a moment, figuring he should get that out again.
“Yeah, but he loves your daughter, so ...”
“Go eat your gun, you bastard.”
Anton hung up the phone.
Later in the evening, Anton was back at his home with his wife. Anton rested across the couch, playing pat-a-cake with his two-year-old granddaughter. Despite her features near matching her deceased mother’s, Anton could see a lot of his children in her, too.
Once their twentieth—at least—game was finished, Vera giggled before rolling off her grandpapa to the floor and scampering over to climb on Viviana’s lap.