Most, but not all.
“Anton,” I greet, answering the call and tucking my phone against my ear. Blowing out a puff of cigar smoke, I ignore the sound of my son Armani and his best friend Colton goofing off around the fire nearby. They’re running around and drinking straight from a shared bottle of rum, which I’m sure they’ll come to regret in the morning.
“Dante,” the Russian grunts in return. “We need to talk.”
“Do we?” I ask casually. “About what?”
“You know what about.” I can hear an edge to his tone, but it sounds more tired than angry.
“I can guess,” I agree, setting my cigar down on the rest beside my seat. “But I can’t presume to know how you’d like to discuss it. Are you calling to tell me to keep my son away from your daughter, or calling to talk terms of communication for them?”
Anton mutters under his breath before answering. “Anya wants to be his friend. I haven’t decided if I’m going to approve her request.”
If he’s anything like me, his daughter’s wishes will outweigh his concern quite quickly. Saying no to your only daughter is almost impossible.
“Hmmm,” I hum, prompting him to continue.
“Dmitri speaks highly of your Matteo,” he says, tone measured and short. He must have already called his son, or texted him for an opinion at least. “Says that he’s very active in the twins’ lives. That he’s good.”
“He is,” I agree, nodding to myself. “He’s close with Jade, and has been since we found her.”
Silence cracks over the line.
“You’re hesitant,” I note bluntly. “Why?”
“Would you not be?” he challenges, voice rough. “Did you not feel the same hesitance with my son?”
“Your son got my daughter pregnant,” I remind him, no longer feeling angry when I remember how Dmitri came into our lives. “I’d say that situation was a bit different. And even so, I’ve come to accept him. If he had no father of his own, I’d now consider him one of my sons.”
“Which took time.”
I can’t disagree. “Indeed, it did. But Matteo offered your daughter friendship, did he not?”
“Friendship can grow,” Anton points out, sounding disturbed. “I do not trust that all he wishes for is to be her friend. Anya is a beautiful girl, and he is young.”
Young, as in promiscuous. Many made men at Matteo’s age are.
“His young phase ended about as quickly as it started, if that’s what you’re wondering. He doesn’t go out, and he doesn’t date.”
Huffing like he doesn’t believe me, he asks, “Drugs?”
“Cannabis, occasionally. Usually gummies to help himself sleep.”
“Drinking?”
“Hardly. He rarely drank before, but since Jade, even less.”
“Is he violent?”
I almost laugh. “Not unless he needs to be. He’s more of a keeping busy with the kids to burn off steam kind of man than getting in the ring to fight it out kind of man. Sometimes he likes to nap more than he likes to train.”
Another pause. “Is he seeing someone?”
My eyebrows hike up. “I thought we were discussing friendship.”
“We are,” he grunts. “Which is why I would be more open to the idea if he had a girlfriend or a fiancée.”
Solid idea, but unfortunately for Anton, inapplicable.
