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)
“We didn’t even have to take you to her,” Nicoli said, chuckling. “You found her in that restaurant all by yourself, like a fucking rope was tied around your middle and yanking you to her. She had this pink chiffon dress on and her hair was done with a bow. At first, you talked Russian to her.”
Anton’s brow furrowed. “At first? Didn’t I talk Russian to everybody?”
Nicoli scoffed. “Wouldn’t talk anything else, but we knew you understood English well enough. Your mother was starting to think maybe you had some form of Autism with some signs being there and everything.
“Anyway, at first you talked to her in Russian and the rest of us were stunned because you didn’t talk to anyone unless it was the people living in your house. But there you were, chattering away to this little Italian girl with her hair in a bow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, my boy. Then when you figured out she couldn’t talk it back and she didn’t understand a word you were saying, you just waved, said hello and your name, and smiled. Christina introduced her to you because she was only two and couldn’t talk well.”
“What happened then?”
“Everybody thinks you couldn’t get her name right, so you called her Vine instead.”
“Wh—”
“She pointed at her chest,” Nicoli said, pointing at his own. “Right over the spot where her little heart beat and repeated it, Anton. And you just lit right up like you found home or something. I had never seen you so happy and I haven’t since.”
“Everybody thought I called her Vine?” Anton asked, confused and wanting that explained.
“Your Russian accent was thick when you first started conversing in English.”
Anton’s gaze searched the shore, landing on black hair and flailing arms as the guy tossed the girl into the water again. “I don’t understand.”
“When you would say your M’s, they came out as V’s and did for quite a while.”
“Mine,” he murmured.
“That’s what you said. Everybody took it as Vine, like a play on her name or something, I knew better but kept quiet. From what I understand, they’ve told her she got it from her brother. I’m not sure why, but don’t go back on what they’ve told her, Anton. They are her parents.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Also, green is an ugly color. Cover it up before she makes her way over here.”
Anton blinked, confused again. “Huh?”
“Jealousy, you don’t wear it well. That boy she’s running around with is her brother. His name is Tony.”
Anton stood, unsure and stunned, as his grandfather went back inside the house and closed the patio doors. It took Anon an entire thirty seconds to realize Viviana and her brother were making their way up the shore again, laughing but not fighting this time.
Tony stayed back a few paces as Viviana walked toward Anton, a smile growing the close she came. When she stood five feet from him, brown eyes met his and he was gone. Like the fucking earth opened up and swallowed him whole.
“Hey, it’s Anton, right?” Viviana asked.
“Yeah, and you’re Viviana.”
“Well, everybody calls me Vine.”
Anton smirked, catching her gaze with his own. “I’m not everybody.”
“I hope not.”
*
“There’s a beach party later,” Tony informed the table. “Pretty girls, little clothes, and—”
“Tony,” Roman barked at the head of the table. “Not right now, son.”
Anton didn’t bother to hide his laughter even when several pairs of eyes turned on him.
“So, that’s where I’ll be,” Tony finished like his father hadn’t said a thing.
“Oh, me, too,” Viviana said.
Tony groaned. “Vine, no. I don’t want to be chasing after my little sister when I could be trying to find a girl to—”
“Tony!”
“Jesus, pull that stick out of your ass, Dad.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Anton said, three seats down from Viviana.
He had a feeling, despite how innocent she looked, Viviana could find trouble if she wanted. That awful hot feeling burned in his gut when he thought of her at a beach party where alcohol would likely be pouring and he wouldn’t be there.
No. Fucking. Way.
“Yes, see, he’ll come with me. Please, Tony?”
Nicoli’s fork, filled with food and making its way to his mouth, stopped midair. “Anton ...”
“What?”
Nicoli’s eyes flashed with something Anton recognized—a warning. “I don’t think ...”
“Somebody needs to keep an eye on her,” Anton repeated. “She’s only fucking sixteen.”
“Anton!” Sasha chastised across from him.
Anton shrugged. “Whatever. Let her go out alone, then.”
“Why can’t he come with me?” Viviana asked.
Because I might corrupt you, Anton thought dryly.
Really, he didn’t think they understood the situation very goddamn well. He wasn’t going to do a thing bad to her. Two hours ago, on the other hand, she had irrevocably changed him.
They were way too late.
She already corrupted him and she hadn’t done a damn thing.
“Vine, you don’t know the island,” Roman tried to explain.
“But you let me wander around New York City whenever the hell I want,” Viviana argued. “This place is way smaller than New York, and I’d have someone with me you know.”