Chapter Twenty-One

“You didn’t tell him, did you?”

Ivan, resting back in the comfortable leather chair in Viviana’s private hospital room, shook his head and grinned like a fool. “No.”

“But he asked?”

“Yep. You do know he’s going to kill me when he finds out I knew before him, right?”

Viviana sighed, resting back into the pillows meant to help ease the pain in her back. Holy hell was she sore … and tired. She was also terribly worried and had little to no memory of the last forty-eight hours.

Maybe the memories would come back slowly, the doctor said. And maybe they wouldn’t.

Viviana wished they wouldn’t. She didn’t want to remember any of it, but she swore she could hear Anton yelling her name. Or maybe that was just her muddled brain creating the recollection. She also wished that little drip of morphine she had finally accepted to take when it was offered for the fifth time would actually do something.

Not long after the sweet nurse and quiet mannered doctor woke her up, one of the first things out of their mouths was the fact that she was pregnant. Not very far along, and from what they understood, everything seemed okay. The mandatory blood work that was done on all new patients had shown that her hGC level was at twenty-eight mlU/cc.

A definite positive for pregnancy.

They then proceeded to calmly explain the accident, her injuries, and what happened after. It didn’t matter how soft they kept their voices, or how quick they were to say it most likely wouldn’t affect the pregnancy, Viviana still cried herself into an anxiety worthy mess. She couldn’t figure out when it had happened and she’d been so worried that maybe—oh God, just maybe—it had been before she was back in New York.

That all disappeared when she was able to remember her last menstrual cycle, and the doctor guaranteed her conception date would have been between the last fourteen to eighteen days, given the level of hormones doubled with every passing day and hers was still showing a low enough number to be an early pregnancy.

It might have gone better if she’d woken up to Anton in her room with the nurse and doctor instead of Ivan.

“He’ll get over it,” she finally replied, wincing on the last word when her fluid IV jostled.

“The doctor said all you need to do was ask and the nurse will up the dosage. It’s safe.”

“I’m fine.”

“Said no one who survived a blast from a crappy bomb ever,” Ivan joked.

“How old are you?”

Ivan gave her a cheeky smile. “Old enough to ignore your dirty looks when I say it. It is safe, Vine. Just ask.”

Didn’t matter to her. Studies this and studies that. Viviana heard enough of it from the nurse when they were changing her bandages. It was bad enough the time she got pregnant was likely right around the point she drank half a night away and smoked up. Of course, the doctor had rushed to assure her those little slips probably hadn’t done any damage, either.

Oh God, he’d taken her so good that night, too.

Soft and slow.

Tender and sweet.

Like loving her was the easiest goddamn thing for him to do.

And he did it so fucking well.

Coming deep and hard enough that she’d felt his release. Holding her body connected with his as she gasped her way through an orgasm. Wrapping her tight in blankets and limbs before his fingers splayed wide open above the spot where her heart thundered like a drum.

Yeah.

Viviana couldn’t remember a bit about the past forty-eight hours, but she remembered that night two weeks before like nothing else. She had to wonder if … somehow … that had been the one to do it.

Turning to look at Ivan out of the corner of her sore eye, she asked, “Where is he?”

The older man sighed. “Please stop asking.”

“But—”

“Stop.”

Viviana scowled, the action causing pain to ricochet from the cut above her brow to the side of her face. Tears fell without her permission, air sucking into her lungs like a cat’s hiss.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Ivan muttered.

Not thirty seconds later, the nurse was in. Pain medication was doubled. Viviana slept.

• • •

“So, the police were here again,” Ivan informed. “Left an hour ago.”

Viviana had only been awake for a short time. Just long enough for the nurse on duty to come in and wake her up to ask if she was feeling well enough to eat. Another dosage of antibiotics in her IV drip later and the woman was gone just as quickly as she came. Viviana couldn’t swallow pills, so liquid form it was.

“And?”

Ivan shrugged as he handed over a plastic cup with a bendy straw. “Same as this morning, sweetheart. You don’t have any recollection of the actual event or the hours leading up to it, it’s been verified by the doctor, so what can they do. They’ve gotten more than enough statements from the bulls and the medics that arrived on the scene. I imagine they’ll want to speak with you in a week or so when you’re feeling up to it.”

“And?” Viviana pressed again.

“And nothing. There’s no set rules for this. You say what you know.”

There wasn’t very much for her to tell, then. The apple juice felt like heaven sliding down her raw esophagus. Never let it be said that an impact, no matter how little, didn’t affect someone everywhere it could possibly reach. Because it damn well did.

“What about …” She trailed off, forcing the pain in her throat to subside before she could speak again. “Anton. Surely they want to speak—”

Ivan’s gaze traveled to the door of her room that was only opened a crack. “As far as they know, they’ve been missing him on and off all day. He’s come and gone. There isn’t a sign-in sheet for your room, the security cameras are horribly placed and could have missed him easily. You’ve slept most of the day now, and otherwise you’ve been medicated, so you couldn’t possibly be a reliable witness to his presence.”

“Has he?”

Ivan wouldn’t answer.

“Has he called again?”

“No.”

Viviana swallowed the emotions rising up. Crying only served to hurt. Everything made her hurt, really. Unfortunately, holding it back caused painful sobs to catch in her throat.

Then something else pricked at the back of her mind.

Like a memory trying to form. One she couldn’t bring up but knew was there.

A simple glance down at her wrist had the memory bubbling up. Suddenly, she was almost feeling Rocco’s jaw clamping down on her bones as sharp canine teeth tore into skin.

“Oh, Rocco …”

Ivan made a noise that fell somewhere between pain and concern. “Viviana?”

“Is he gone?”

“Rocco?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, taking slow measured movements to turn on the bed.

“No, he’s alive, but hurt awfully bad. The vet said he was doing all right, given everything. It’s certainly not going to be easy, and I think … Well, Anton is seriously considering having him put down.”

Anguished was an understatement.

Instead, it was more like a knife had stabbed into her heart. It had been vaguely explained of Rocco’s involvement of getting her out of the way of the blast, and taking a great deal of the shrapnel and damage himself. Even so, Viviana hadn’t really remembered, let alone felt what that meant to her until now.

Yours, Anton had once said. Like me, he’s waited a long time to have you with him.

“But-but … he can’t. Ivan, he just can’t do that.”

“Vine, listen to me and think. Rocco isn’t going to be the same animal. He’s going to need specialized care for the next long while …”

“I don’t care! I’m his. He’s mine. Anton can’t do that!”

“He’s going to be in a lot of agony. I know you care a great deal for him—”

“Stop trying to convince me otherwise,” Viviana snapped, surprised at her own vehemence. She didn’t even care if she sounded like a brat, not when it came to poor Rocco. “Call him. Call him and tell him I said no, Ivan.”

“But—”

“Do it.”

His hands flew up, a signal of surrender. The trembling in Viviana’s body barely began to subside at the sight. She was quiet as he picked up his cell phone and waved it between them with a soft expression.

“Okay. I’ll try to call him, but there’s no saying he’ll answer right now.”

The black darkness outside the windows caught her eye.

Where was he?

“Then leave a fucking message.”

• • •

The ear buds from her iPod blocked out all noise. Slow, throaty tones that reminded her of a forties Americana type music hummed from the tiny speakers in her ears. Viviana didn’t notice the time passing by after Ivan had left the room. The emotional, deep blues soaked her right to the core, reminding Viviana what it felt like to be ten-years-old and watching her mother in the mirror as she readied for a party.

Christina Carducci had once had the raspy hum of a smoker when she sang, but she never actually smoked. The low notes crawled from her lungs with the same ease and expertise as the higher ones, but she never took lessons. It was one thing Viviana wished she had taken from her mother … that ability to sing … but she couldn’t carry a note to save her life.

Blues aren’t about the sound of a voice, her mother once explained. They’re about feeling the emotions and the words where it hurts and making it echo from the heart and soul.

So, when Rory had peeked into her room a little while ago with a bag in hand, Viviana had all but clawed through it to see if her iPod was there. Thank God it was. That and comfortable ass pajamas. Hospital gowns were not only indecent, but useless and itchy.

It had sucked for her to see Rory with a gash on his cheek and a large bruise up along his hairline, but he was quick to comfort that he’d fared even better than Anton. For a bit, Viviana felt better … but the sentiment didn’t last long when she realized exactly what he said. No one had mentioned the injuries Anton suffered, and that only sent her worry right back up to spiking levels.

The bull didn’t stay either, not after he handed over the bag and an unopened bottle of her favorite vitamin water, with the promise he’d be waiting to open up the next car Anton brought her home.

Damn, the Bentley was probably dust.

Or … tin scraps.

With the iPod in her ears, she didn’t realize someone was in her room until someone gently touched her blanket-covered ankle. It didn’t matter how lightly they approached, Viviana still shrieked like a banshee, tugging roughly on the IV in her arm as she flinched away from the intruder.

Her lungs ached as she tried to catch her breath and forget the pain.

No, it didn’t work a bit.

Two men stood at the end of her bed. Tall, with faces shadowed by the dim lighting in the room, they almost looked menacing. Well dressed in similar black suits, ties properly tied, and badges on display in opened hands, Viviana swallowed her fear and felt a whole different emotion rise.

“Agents Todd and Danover from—”

Federal agents.

“Yeah, I know who you are. Get out of my room,” she rasped. “I haven’t a thing to say to either of you. I don’t remember what happened, so we have nothing to talk about.”

“Now, now, Viviana.” Agent Todd on the right raised his brow in a chiding manner. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“We’re not here for what happened today,” Danover said quietly. “The police have their own investigation and it isn’t considered our issue, yet. And even if it ever is, it won’t be our team dealing with it.”

“Then what?”

Her shaking fingers reached up to move the strands of tangled hair out of her eyes. Only twice had she been approached by federal agents in the past, and both times she had managed to get out of their vicinity quickly. This was a whole different ballgame, given she was all but forced to stay in bed for the next little while, and her lawyer was nowhere in sight.

Before either man spoke again, Viviana muttered, “Ivan wouldn’t have let you in my room.”

“No, but a badge does wonders for a young nurse,” Todd replied just as quick. “Can’t you speak without Anton’s dogs attached to your ass?”

Ouch. That hurt a little more than he understood.

“Okay, now you can get the fuck out.”

“No, I don’t think we can. June sixth, two thousand and ten. Where were you around ten o’clock that night?”

It could have been so easy for Viviana to just up and say she couldn’t remember the date. That was, after all, three years ago. It would also be the biggest damned lie she ever uttered in her life. It wasn’t like she could ever forget the night before her father’s body had been found in the bay with a bullet hole in the back of his skull.

“You’re just coming around here to ask me this, now?”

Deflection was one tactic to use at least until Ivan returned. That was her piss poor plan, anyway.

“Seems like as good a time as ever,” Danover answered, shrugging. “No uncle keeping you locked away. No crossing country borders for school. You certainly have nothing to hide, right? Just us, a room, and you. So, why not?”

Nothing to hide, sure. They had no idea. Speaking about family business—Cosa Nostra business—was a very bad thing. Especially if it was to federal agents. For Viviana, her silence had nothing to do with honor for her father’s family, but the safety of her own self. Death was the only punishment acceptable when someone started talking to officials.

“Where were you that night?” Todd repeated.

Viviana swallowed again. “My Aunt Lucy’s.”

“Lucille Carducci, you mean.”

“Yeah. Was there all night. Woke up to a news broadcast about Roman, and my mother called crying when she found out over the goddamn radio on her drive home. Now, if that’s all you—”

“It isn’t.” Todd tossed a stack of white papers on the bed, but Viviana didn’t make a move to look at what it was. “Phone records between your father’s office phone and your cell phone shows you were on the phone with him from nine-fifty that night until five after ten. Care to share what that call was about?”

No, she certainly didn’t care to fucking share.

“How many times do I have to ask you to get out before you get the hint and go?”

“Where’s Mr. Avdonin?” Danover asked. “We’ve stayed around watching and he’s been MIA for a great length of time. Seems like people hear of him coming and going, but no one has actually seen him for themselves. That strikes me as odd, what about you, Stan?”

Agent Todd nodded with a severe expression. “Certainly. Wouldn’t be like a mob boss to leave his pretty fiancée all alone like he has, unless he has some important business to attend to. Something he isn’t worried about coming back on her because he’s going to take care of that all by himself. On the streets, right, Viviana? Men like him, they don’t deal with waiting for police to handle a little nonsense like a bomb. After all, no one can handle a situation quite like an Avdonin could. They have something of a flair when making a particular point clear. Would you like to hear some of his?”

Viviana flinched inwardly. Shit.

“I was arguing with him about wanting to leave my aunt’s. The phone call, I mean,” she was quick to say, hoping it’d keep them away from the topic of Anton. “I needed some clothes and was going to pick them up, but he wanted me to stay there for the night. We’d already been there three weeks. I was getting sick and fucking tired of it. I was young … stupid. Didn’t really understand the severity of what he must have been handling, or trying to.”

“Because of the arrangement between the Avdonin family and yours,” Todd said, expression not changing in the slightest.

“If you know, why ask?”

The man smiled a grim line. “You know why. We’d like it confirmed.”

“I assume that was why,” she bit out.

“Your father was killed—”

Viviana snorted indelicately. “My father died of a heart attack. My dad was killed. If you want the facts from me, you might as well get your end right.”

Both men’s brows flew up to their hairlines.

“What?”

“I am the biological daughter of Nicoli Avdonin. Roman Carducci, however, was the one to raise me. See the difference?”

“That’s … very interesting,” Todd muttered, eyeing his partner.

“And odd,” the other man echoed, “given who she’s about to marry.”

“Not really,” Viviana butted in, feeling indignant and pissed. “Anton’s grandfather was killed when his father was a young boy, which anyone with access to the internet would know. I think that’s enough on that, though, so if we could finish this up, that’d be great.”

“Yes, fine. Again, the phone call. Given the coroner’s report, it’s likely your father—dad—was killed that evening. Water mucked up the exact time of death a bit, but they narrowed it down to late evening hours to very early morning. Several reports from neighbors stated your uncle wasn’t seen around his home that night. The car trailing him earlier in the evening lost him. I’m sure you’re aware we’re looking at him, especially since right after Roman’s death, he slipped right into the Cosa Nostra throne like he was born for it.”

Viviana forced the rising bile down. “Are you asking if Roman mentioned something to me? Because if so, he didn’t.”

“No,” Agent Danover replied, “we’re wondering if you heard anything. See the difference?”

“Shit, Vine, sorry that took me so long. The nurse from this morning just came back on shift and had your engagement ring packed away in a safe spot. Figured you’d want it clean …”

Ivan’s voice trailed off as he pushed the room door all the way open. The disgusted scowl that covered his features as he exhaled harshly at the sight that met his eyes only caused Viviana’s nervousness to intensify. She understood all too well how it looked for her to be alone with federal agents.

The lawyer was fast to surprise her.

“Might I remind you both that given my client’s current medical state, any and all questions you ask, along with the answers she may give, are irrelevant and inadmissible for any public record.” His finger pointed to the beeping machines when he added, “She’s medicated. Dealing with immense trauma and stress. Liable to be considered under duress, which her doctor will be quick to point out first, should you take anything said farther than this room. Not only that, but she’s in a much more delicate state than either of you possibly understand, not that it’s any of your business to be properly informed. Under no circumstances is this an appropriate time for you to be accosting her with questions.”

“Relax. We’re not here for Anton,” Danover said, not even bothering to turn around.

“And I don’t care,” Ivan barked.

“Miss Carducci … the call, that’s all we want to know.”

Viviana hid the shaking of her hands under thick blankets.

“There’s nothing to tell. Roman made his point clear. I hung up the phone.”

The stare-off that commenced between the two agents and Viviana lasted longer than she was comfortable with. Neither of them were budging and clearly she wasn’t either. If they knew she was lying, they didn’t call her on it.

“Your fiancé …”

Ivan huffed under his breath. “Get out.”

Todd lifted a single shoulder as he asked, “Do you really know the man you’re marrying?”

“Probably better than you,” she retorted hotly. “If you want to throw out some Freudian worthy bullshit about how I must have daddy issues because I’m marrying a man just like Roman, then you can go to hell. Yes, Agent Todd, I’m very aware of whom I lie down beside every night. And I wouldn’t ask for anyone different.”

“He’s a dangerous man, Viviana.”

Viviana shrugged. If they thought that bothered her, she had a news flash coming.

“Funny, the last thing Anton ever makes me feel is unsafe.”

When the agents were gone and the door was closed, Ivan leaned against it and sighed with an exhausted noise. While Viviana was relieved they were gone, she was also waiting for the backlash from her lawyer.

“I’m sorry, Ivan.”

“Don’t be,” he muttered. “We figured they’d be around.”

“We?”

“Anton and me. Chatted about it for a little while. Nothing you say really affects him in regards to Roman, but if you don’t want to talk, you’re not required to. I wasn’t about to let the bastards bully you into it.”

“I’m hiding knowledge of a crime. That’s punishable by law.”

“You didn’t hang up the phone, did you?”

“No,” she whispered. “Dad had this new conference phone. Didn’t matter how many times we told him he needed to hit the end call button after he hung the receiver up, he never remembered. Sonny was there, but he didn’t know Dad had been on the phone with me …”

“Sonny, what the fuck are you doing? You don’t realize—”

“All you had to do was kill the bitch, Roman. That was it,” Sonny spat.

“And the baby, too, right? Because let’s not forget her. You gonna fucking kill me, now? Your own brother? Blood never mattered in this life. But unlike you, I followed that creed. Come on then … do it.”

“Turn around.”

“No,” Roman said.

Viviana blinked out of the memory, hearing the snap of the handgun’s chamber being loaded in the background of her mind. She’d never forget that sound. And that’s all it was … just a fucking sound.

That sound brought death. Always.

“Viviana?”

“He shot him in the back of the head, Ivan.”

Ivan licked his lips and stared at her sadly. “To dishonor.”

“No …” she said, shaking her head, “because Sonny couldn’t look him in the eyes.”