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)
“I thought you were busy.”
“Oh, is that why you were letting him toy with guns, because you didn’t think I would catch you?”
“No,” Anton said, cocking a brow. “You’re angry with me.”
“You’re goddamn right I am! This ...” Viviana waved stupidly at the weapons on the ground. “This shit is not okay with me. God, Anton, he’s not even six, yet.”
“I was his age.”
“I don’t care!”
“I realize that,” Anton said calmly, heaving a breath. “Believe me, I can see how little you care for this right now.”
Why was he so fucking blasé about it all?
A thought passed through Viviana’s head, fast and destructive. She remembered a conversation years ago. One that happened long before Demyan was a part of their lives. Anton wouldn’t hide it when it began to happen, he’d said. It was reality for him if they had ever had a son, and therefore, a reality for Viviana, too.
It still hurt.
“Oh my God, you’re grooming him already,” Viviana hissed. “He’s just a little boy!”
“Is that what you think?” Anton asked softly. “That I’m letting him explore these guns to desensitize him from the violence they bring?”
Viviana forced herself to breathe, willing a calmer state, but failing all the same. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think, and it fucking disgusts me. I can’t believe you.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I don’t have to groom Demyan at all. He’s already doing it to himself. On weekends, he wants to come with me. At home, he’s under my feet twenty-four-seven. He’s too curious. He’s always interested. And especially when I discourage it. I can’t even have a conversation in Russian anymore to keep him from understanding because he speaks it just as well as I do. At six, that’s quite a feat when he was an English-first taught child.”
Viviana blinked, willing away the tears threatening to form. “Don’t tell me you’re discouraging anything when I find you sneaking around doing things like this.”
“Sneaking like this, Vine?” Anton smirked, shaking his head. “Christ, baby. You don’t even understand and regardless of what I say, you’re still going to hate me for it.”
“Try me.”
“Okay. Last weekend when Ivan was at the club to pick up some papers for me, I caught Demyan showing Gia the handgun in my desk. It was loaded, but the safety was on. Just a little slip of his finger, and it would have come off. What would you prefer, Vine? That I teach him to understand these weapons, what they are capable of, how to treat them with respect and diligence, or let him learn through his own ignorance and mistakes?”
“He wouldn’t be curious at all if it wasn’t so open around him.”
“This is who I am, and you’ve always known it. So he’s almost six, and soon he’ll be seven, and in a blink he’s going to be a teenager. The older he gets, the less influence and control we have. What do you want me to do? When is the right time for me to start this process? Tell me,” Anton demanded harshly.
Viviana sucked in a hard gulp of air. He was right. She still hated him for it, although that was a strong word. “It’s not fair. He’s my baby.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not, Anton. You don’t get it. He’s my baby—don’t take him from me yet.”
“But he’s mine, too.”
*
Viviana stroked her fingers through her son’s hair as he rested into her arm and listened to the music through the earbuds in his ears. In the upstairs room of the lodge, with the rest of the world shut out by the closed door, she could pretend for a little while that time was frozen. That her son wasn’t getting older by the day, and he would always be this perfect, innocent, happy boy.
This tiny part of her who was so much more like his father than he really knew.
She tugged an earbud out of his ear gently, smiling when Demyan glowered up at her. The one thing he didn’t like more than anything was someone messing with his music. “What’d you and Gia do today?”
Demyan shrugged. “Explored the trails.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Gia’s always fun, Ma.”
Trouble was more like it.
Viviana grinned, hiding it by pressing a kiss to the top of his head. There were a million things she wanted to tell Demyan, stuff she wanted to ask, and opinions swirling on the tip of her tongue. She held them all back.
Because she just couldn’t.
“I love you, huh?” Viviana whispered.
“Love you, too, Ma.”
A quick two knuckle rap sounded on the bedroom door. Viviana sighed, recognizing it immediately. She’d barely spoken to her husband at all after their earlier fight and she was not in the mood to go another round.
“Come in, Anton.”
Anton opened the door a foot or so and poked his head in. “Demyan, say goodnight to Ma and go brush your teeth before bed.”