Outtakes Vol 1 – The Russian Guns (Filthy Marcellos #1) Read Online Bethany Kris

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
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A little pain was worth the pleasure, as the saying went.

“Morning, baby.”

Viviana glanced in the direction of her husband’s dark tenor. Anton sat in the leather chair she used to read in nothing but boxer-briefs with a coffee in his hands. That explained the euphoric-like smell, anyway.

“What time is it?”

“Nine.”

Viviana sat up straight, shocked. “What? I have work—”

“Not today. I called and let the girls know you won’t be in to supervise. They can handle the bookstore without you.”

“The kids?” They should have been up and about by now.

“Went to my mother’s with Clarissa. There’s no need for us to interrupt their day while we take some time for us to be selfish.”

Viviana swallowed the rising emotions bubbling up as she stared at her smirking husband. “What about you?”

“I have better business to attend to at home with my wife for the next ... few hours, at least.”

“At least?” she asked.

“Mmm. But beyond today, I’m taking a week off.”

“Anton, you don’t have to take time off. I know you have a lot of work to do with the new clubs.”

“Sure, but I have people who can handle it. I should learn to trust my employees and let go of some of my control.” Anton nodded toward the connecting bathroom where the door was open. “Get up. There’s a hot bath and coffee waiting for you. And when you’re done, I want you back in bed with me, on top of me, loving me like you do. Sound good, baby?”

Viviana couldn’t help but grin. “Sounds perfect.”

Guns - Part Two

Foreword: Guns (Part Two) takes place about six years after the final chapter in The Score (Not the Epilogue, but the final chapter). It is simply a snapshot look into what would have been an inevitable situation.

“Ma ... Ma ... Ma ... Ma.”

Every call of Viviana’s name was punctuated by a tiny fist pulling on her jeans. Viviana glanced down at her nearly two-year-old daughter, willing away her irritation to offer the toddler a smile. Whoever said the bad behavior started at aged two should have been shot before the words ever came out of their mouth.

Clearly that person had never met a child as stubborn and strong-willed as Anton Avdonin’s daughter. Ana was hell on two feet from the moment she learned to talk. And when she learned to walk? Sweet Jesus, she didn’t stop moving, making noise, and causing trouble.

God knew Viviana loved her daughter ... she did ... but that didn’t mean she had to like her all the damn time. Especially when she was wanting her father and purposely acting out to get what she desired. Anton made no qualms about spoiling Ana. She was his little Russian princess with her black curls and big brown eyes. She liked her pretty dresses already with their sparkles and wavy skirts. At her young age, she was already mastering a walk with swagger and the bat of long eyelashes.

Anton was her daddy, and he couldn’t say no. That was all there was to it. Losing battle.

“Ana Christina, I’m only going to tell you one—”

“Ma! Wants Daddy, now!”

“So do I, kid,” Viviana muttered, staring up at the ceiling of their Vermont lodge.

“Ana,” Sasha called from her spot on the couch where she was reading a book. “Where’s your clicky shoes Papa bought you?”

At the very mention of the strappy sandals with the centimetre lift to the heel that clacked when she walked, Ana perked. Viviana barely held back her snort of amusement. The girl was such a typical girly girl already, Viviana had no doubts of what her teenage years would be like.

Drama queen to the extreme.

Anton did this. Viviana would swear by it when it came back to bite him on his ass.

“Go get them, Grandmamma will put them on you, and we’ll take a walk to find Daddy, okay?”

Ana was gone in search of her shoes without another word.

“It’s going to take her a while,” Sasha informed, never glancing up from her book. “I hid them on top on the washer after she tried to throw them at Demyan. She’s probably forgotten I did that by now.”

Viviana breathed a sigh of relief, but guilt flooded her at the same time. “I adore that child.”

“So do I, but occasionally, we all need a break. Even her father.”

Which was exactly why he’d taken Rocco and Demyan out for a walk earlier around the lake and had yet to return. After an hour-long tantrum that nearly broke the windows, Viviana told him to take their son and dog for a rest away from the noise.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“You know I love you, Vine. You’re a good mother.”

“Tell me it gets better.”

Sasha laughed, tossing the book to the coffee table. “Does it? I wouldn’t know. At her age, Anton was already following his father every day even though he’d only been walking for a few short months. Was he stubborn? Sure, but not overly difficult. Certainly not Ana difficult. Mostly he refused to speak English and he rarely spoke to others outside of our immediate family. But he loved Daniil ... my God, how he loved his father.”



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