Free The Score by Bethany-Kris

keep him from noticing for a little while.”
    “That Papa, the one person besides his mother who is his absolute everything in this world, isn’t waiting for him every morning like he had every other day of his life?” Ivan asked sarcastically.
    A lump lodged painfully in Anton’s throat. “We’ll make it work, like I said. My son … It doesn’t matter, Ivan, he’s my boy. She wouldn’t keep him from me, because he’s all of me and she knows it. Even if whatever this is between her and I right now keeps up like it is, then we’ll figure something else out for him.”
    “You’re taking this well,” Ivan said frankly. “As good as can be expected for you, I guess.”
    “I’m breaking apart inside,” Anton admitted. “That woman is my whole life and has been since I was eighteen. I’ve never loved anybody like I love her. I’ve broken every damn rule for her and would again in a heartbeat. I’m supposed to just accept that I stepped out on her because I drank too much liquor? Like fuck. Something doesn’t feel right here.”
    Ivan hummed noncommittally. “If all else fails, you could pull rank, Anton. She’s your wife and he’s your son. Divorce isn’t an acceptable route if you don’t want it to be. I know you’ve always been a little cleaner cut than others is our business, especially where Viviana is concerned, but you’re more than capable of playing dirty if you need to.”
    “Jesus. That’s …”
    “It was just a suggestion. An option you can use if you want. I’m not saying I would, but I’m not you, either.”
    “Even if … It doesn’t matter how much I love her, I still couldn’t do that.” Anton felt his molars practically crack beneath his jaw as he grinded his teeth. The thought of forcing a reconciliation on his wife just because he said so didn’t quite feel right for him. “This isn’t twenty or thirty years ago, Ivan. She has choices. I won’t take them from her because I fucked up. She’s not a piece of property.”
    “Others wouldn’t feel that way.”
    Anton scowled, the action causing his aching head to pound harder. “They’re not me.”
    “What about Natalie, have you tried talking to her?” Ivan asked.
    “Absolutely not,” Anton growled, glaring at his friend. “The last thing I need is to be near that woman again, Ivan.”
    “She’ll be in the club tonight working.”
    Anton flinched, disgust filling him to the brim. This whole situation was horrible, and he felt dirty with ten grimy fingers pointing straight at his guilty chest.
    “Well, aside from firing her, there’s not much I can—”
    Anton didn’t get to finish his sentence. A loud bang and shouted orders rang out in the downstairs of the club. The tinkling sounds of canisters popping along the empty floor echoed up to their spot. There was no denying what was happening downstairs.
    “Fuck,” Ivan muttered.
    Instantly, Anton was off his office chair, ignoring the gun he knew was in the desk, and the information of a shipment, never mind the laptop he should have tried to somehow destroy. No, instead, the only thing he could think of was the little boy on the floor with wide blue eyes and terrified, reaching for his father.
    “Papa?” Demyan cried.
    “Shhh, little man,” Anton whispered.
    In his arms, he held his son tighter and turned his back to the door of the office. It seemed like only milliseconds, but his mind was running a million miles a minute. Anton couldn’t begin to understand why the officials would be raiding his club. His guys certainly hadn’t been given any indication and they’d all been pretty quiet.
    Demyan’s shaking increased as the shouts down below became louder. “It’s okay, Demyan, it’s okay. Papa’s here.”
    The sounds of a dozen or more pairs of boots pounding up the metal staircase ratcheted up Anton’s nerves to a breaking point.
    “Anton …” Ivan started to say. “Anton, give me your son!”
    The hardest thing Anton ever had to do,