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it. Boris was one of Anton’s more brutal guys when it came to handling some of the violent aspects of their business.
    “Maybe,” Anton agreed quietly. “A little over a week ago I noticed a car behind my house. The driver was taking pictures.”
    “And?”
    “And I assumed it was FBI.”
    “But?”
    Anton shrugged as he took another bite of his meal, purposely wanting to keep his appearance as unbothered by the situation he was talking about. Frankly, he was horribly worried about it. The more time Anton had let pass by for him to consider the unknown photographer, the more unsettled it made him.
    “Why would the feds be taking pictures of Viviana in our backyard while she was doing nothing more than sitting out in the sun?” Anton asked rhetorically. “I thought maybe they were attempting to catch me doing something, but I’d just arrived home. They would have been following me from the other side, not waiting out back.”
    Boris leaned forward. “Whoever it was had been taking pictures before you even returned home, then.”
    “Yeah, that’s my thought. If it were the feds, we’d know. Someone is always blabbing about something concerning us. One of our insiders would have heard. There’s been nothing from the federal side. That tells me it’s not FBI.”
    Anton hated to even consider what that might mean for his wife. Who would be following her and why? Not to mention wanting pictures of her in situations that would show her without obvious protection. The bulls who kept a close watch while she was away from their home were instructed to close more of the gap Anton asked them to keep. He still hadn’t brought up the possible threat to Viviana.
    Unfortunately, Tatiana Belov raised a whole bunch of other questions. Anton despised the fact that she might be the answer to all the other ones, as well. Worse still was the fact there wasn’t any proof. That was what Anton needed, now.
    “And you believe this is Sergei?” Boris pursed his lips in contemplation. “That’d be an awfully stupid move if you found out. From his end, I mean.”
    “I know,” Anton replied. “I don’t want to risk thinking it is just the feds doing their usual nonsense if it isn’t. This isn’t exactly their deal, anyway. They’d be more adept to taking her picture when she was with me and we were in contact with someone connected to the Bratva. Not at home being happy and innocent. Not like that.”
    “Maybe you should get her out of state. Have you talked to Ivan or Erik about this, Boss?”
    “I want to know everything before I do anything.”
    Making hurried decisions that could lead to messy situations later wasn’t exactly Anton’s forte. Finishing up the last bit of his parmesan risotto, Anton flicked his hand up as the waitress passed by his table to signal he was ready for the bill. Anton wanted to catch up with Boris about his trip to Vegas and what had come of it business-wise, but he promised to pick up Viviana from her study group.
    “You have a good contact with a tracer. Is he worth his price, or what?”
    “She,” Boris corrected, his gaze meeting Anton’s. “And yes, I’d say so. She’s done great work for me. Who do you want checked up on?”
    “Tatiana.”
    Instantly, Boris was sitting ramrod straight in his seat. “Oh, hell. That’s a problem you don’t need. Were you messing around with the Jersey girl again?”
    Anton nearly choked on his tongue. “What the fuck?”
    “I’m just saying, Boss. We all know how pregnant women can be sometimes. Well, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary—”
    “For me it would,” the boss interrupted coolly. Rage washed through his insides fast and hard, raising his pulse to a racing speed. “I don’t fuck around on my wife.”
    The older man seemed struck speechless. Why was it that everyone seemed to find it hard to believe that Anton was faithful to his wife?
    “Ever?”
    “ Never ,” Anton hissed.
    “Well, why in the hell do you think