Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Matteo
Anton tosses a frosty green bag of peas across the kitchen counter, a dull slap sounding as they land right in front of me. He doesn’t say a word, but he sighs and puts his hands on the counter, using his connection to it to lean forward as he exhales.
“Sure you don’t want to get a swing in too?” I ask, pressing the bag of frozen vegetables to my face. The bite of cold feels sharp, but good against the pain in my jaw. “I won’t tell her if you do.”
Anton narrows his dark eyes at me, more assessing than aggressive. “I would have broken into your little mansion and beat your face in three nights ago if I thought you needed to be hit for kissing my daughter.”
“Heard about that, did you?” I ask with a wince.
I was sure he must have. He had guards and staff all around his house that night, and I knew a security camera could have caught us on tape. But when he didn’t confront me that night, or even the next day, I assumed he either didn’t know, or was in denial that he did know.
He grunts. “I know everything that happens in my house.”
I nod, shifting the frozen bag on my jawline. “So the fact that someone has been around us every day since it happened, not a coincidence, yeah?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Well, that answers that.
“So, if I’m understanding this right…You don’t want to punch me for kissing her, but you also don’t want us to be alone to kiss again?”
“I don’t know what I want,” Anton replies with a groan.
“I allowed you into her life because you seemed to make her happy. You said you were going to be friends, and now I have to deal with the consequences of not realizing how fucking stupid it was to believe that the two of you could ever stay just friends. The way she looks at you, the way you look at her…this was always going to happen.”
I won’t pretend that I think he’s wrong.
Trying to discern where his head is at, I ask, “And that makes you angry?”
“It makes me something,” he grumbles. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to demand you marry her, or demand you disappear because I can’t bear the thought of my little girl even being old enough to be married and in love.”
“You sound like my dad talking about Jade,” I muse, trying to bite back a chuckle.
Anton doesn’t share my amusement. “Believe me, Dante and I have had words. He’s far too pleased about this for my liking.”
I sober from the humor and almost freeze. “You talked to him about me and Anya?” I haven’t even done that yet. Knowing my father, he would meddle. And I wanted my time with Anya to be my own, at least for a little while.
“He says we’re even now,” Anton says with a grimace. “His daughter and my son, my daughter and his son. He has very little sympathy for me.”
“Well, he warmed up to Dmitri pretty quickly, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t.”
Sighing, I drop the bag of peas to the counter and sit up straighter. This conversation can’t be had while I’m icing my face like a wounded animal. He needs to see me for the man that I am. The man who’s going to love, honor, cherish, and protect his daughter for the rest of my life.
“I love your daughter, Sir,” I begin, switching to Russian.
If he’s surprised to hear his language coming out of my mouth, he doesn’t show it.
“I want to marry her, but not before she’s ready to have me as her husband.
You could try to demand me to go away, but I’m afraid you may need to kill me to achieve that goal. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
Anton tilts his head at me. “What makes you think I won’t kill you?”
Switching back to English, I shake my head.
“You wouldn’t do that to her. I know dating is a foreign concept in our world of arranged marriages and betrothal contracts, but Anya is my girlfriend.
And she’ll stay my girlfriend until she indicates she wants otherwise.
Whether that means dumping my ass because she’s so incredible that she could do better, or that she’s ready to take the next step and be my wife instead. ”
Anton rolls his head, cracking his neck and his fingers turn white from gripping the countertop harder. “Have you touched my daughter?”
I swallow, understanding the implication of his question. “I thought you said you know everything that happens in your house.”
“The two of you haven’t always been just in my house,” he points out, voice thick with tension.
“We haven’t done more than kiss,” I say carefully. “We’ve hugged and held hands, but the kissing is new.”
He exhales but the tension in his body remains rigid. “I don’t want you in her bedroom if you’re going to be kissing, and I don’t want to see it, either.”
“Respectfully, Sir, Anya should be allowed to bring me into her room if she wants to. It’s her comfort space, and she’s almost nineteen. If you restrict her too much, she’ll only get upset.”
Anton glares, but I press on, “I don’t feel comfortable talking to you about the possibility of future intimacy when Anya and I haven’t had that conversation yet. But I’ll tell you this, if she wants to have sex, I’m not going to tell her no—”
He cuts into my sentence with a hard scoff.
I ignore it. “Not simply because I’m a hormone-riddled man who’s deeply attracted to her.
But because she deserves to have a say in what happens to her body.
She deserves to know what it’s like when you want someone, and they want you in return.
Anya should be able to give freely rather than be taken from.
I don’t see how you could argue with that, no matter how much I’m sure it disturbs you to think of your daughter as the woman that she is now. ”
His blank, narrow stare is unnerving.
“Do you want to hit me now?”
“I’m debating it.”
When he doesn’t launch himself over the counter to tackle me, I take it as a sign that I’m safe from further violence. At least for today.
“You know, this all has really thrown a bit of a wrench into my plans for the day,” I tell him with a sigh. “I can’t tell if you’re going to be more upset with me after you see the surprise I have for Anya, or if it will help my case and make you like me even more.”
“What have you don—”
Before he can get the question out, one of his men interrupts. He entered the kitchen so quietly, neither of us heard him.
“Pakhan, there’s a delivery at the gate.”
I couldn’t have planned the timing better if I tried.
“I didn’t order anything.”
Hoping up from my seat, I clap the messenger guard on the shoulder. “That’s for me, Daniil. I’ll go get it so we don’t have to let anyone in.”
I see the both of them look at each other with surprise and confusion, but I don’t stick around to be asked questions. On my way out, I hear one being asked, though.
“He knows your name?”
“He asked,” Daniil replies simply.
I did ask.
Dad has always said that it’s good to know the men surrounding you. Even if you only know their names and a few details. After all, would you want to protect some asshole with your life if he’s never even bothered to ask your name? Or even speak to you?
I wouldn’t.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
I stop walking immediately, hearing Anya’s voice. She’s just come in from the backyard, and she looks like she might cry.
“Of course not, meraviglia,” I say quickly, making a beeline to her. “I have a surprise for you that just showed up at the gate. I’m going to bring it right in and show you, okay? Give me two minutes?”
“Okay,” she agrees, seeming relieved.
“Be right back.” I press a kiss to her cheek and rush to the front door.
When I retrieve Anya’s gift, there’s a few boxes of things to go with it that guards outside help me bring into the front entryway of the house.
I take the time to ask them both what their names are and commit their faces to memory.
I’ll make it a point to get to know them better in the future, but right now, Anya is the only thing I can focus on.
I find her in the small sitting room off the entryway, chewing on her lip while she waits for me. Her eyes go wide, seeing the large black carrier as I walk in to join her. She suspects what I have hidden for her, and even though she doesn’t voice it, I know her imagination isn’t wrong.
I set the flexible fabric crate down on the couch and open the zipper carefully. I hear my girl inhale softly as she gets a first look at what’s inside.
“This is Winter,” I say, carefully taking the little ball of white fluff out of her carrier. The small creature immediately buries her face in the crook of my arm, her whiskers almost tickling me as she hides.
“Oh my God,” Anya gasps, hands flying up and over her mouth.
She steps closer and I continue introducing her to her gift.
“Winter is six years old, and her owner just passed away. She’s a little sad and shy right now, of course.
But she needs a loving home, and I know you’ve been wanting a cat of your own.
I didn’t want to surprise you with a pet because I’ve heard that’s a bad idea.
So I signed up for us to foster her for a month.
If you don’t want to adopt her by the end of the month then—”
“I want to adopt her right now,” she declares, opening her arms and closing the space between us. “I need to hold her this second. Oh my goshhh, she’s so beautiful.”
Just like you.
I carefully pass the shy cat into her arms and Anya coos down at her, sitting down to hold her with more support so she can pet her as well.
“She has blue eyes, and long soft fur. It made me think of us. My blue eyes, your pretty blonde hair. But you know, more silver than golden.”
“I love her already,” Anya tells me tearfully. “She’s so soft and light.”
“Yeah,” I agree, smiling. “She looks a little chunky but it’s all fur. I was surprised when I first picked her up too.”
“I think I’m going to cry.” Anya sniffles, leaning down to kiss Winter on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Matteo, I think you may have signed up to marry a crazy cat lady. I already want her to have a friend.”
I laugh, sitting down next to her and putting my arm around her shoulders.
“I think we should let her settle in first. We can have her stay in your bedroom so she gets used to your scent and then introduce her to more of the house since it’s so big.
I got you everything she needs. So much stuff that she could probably have her own room, if you wanted to give her one. ”
“We’re going to spoil her,” Anya says decidedly.
“We are,” I confirm, smiling as Winter looks up from Anya’s arms. Her tiny pink nose twitches as she scans the room, sniffing and observing her surroundings.
“Oh, God,” my girl breathes out, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m going to end up with like eight cats, aren’t I? You won’t leave me if I get too many cats, will you?”
I drop a kiss into her hairline and shake my head. “I grew up with eight brothers, baby. I can handle eight cats.”
She giggles tearfully. “Why is she so precious? I have to show her to everyone. Do you think she’ll get scared?”
“If she does, she’ll just hide in your arms.”
“So, this is the surprise, then?” Anton’s voice rumbles softly as he finds us.
Anya lights up, looking toward her father. “Papochka, isn’t she so perfect?”
“She looks like my suits are never going to be free of tiny white hairs again,” he mumbles but softens, seeing how happy his daughter is. “You should introduce her to Nadya and Irina. I’m sure they’d love to see her before they leave.”
“Winter,” Anya informs him, standing up slowly. “Her name is Winter.”
She walks past him, shuffling so that she doesn’t move too quickly and scare her new beloved pet.
Anton looks at me, and not for the first time, I can’t tell what he’s feeling. He could be pissed off that I brought an animal into his house without asking. Or he could be surprised that I did something to make his daughter so happy. But either way, he blinks and says nothing.
“So…want to help me build a cat tower?”