Page 15 of Cruel Existence

I didn’t know why his answer made my heart beat faster. It didn’t help that he was sexy as hell. Tall. Cocky and confident. I didn’t know whether Luka was as bad and ruthless as the players I always met in my father’s world. Was he hardened and soulless? Did he spit out good people to make a deal? Would he spit me out when he was done? Was I willing to take that chance with what time I had left? I couldn’t quite seem to admit to him that my fate wasn’t my own.

“It’s getting late.” My champagne glass was empty. Another round would be too much. I already felt light-headed at the engagement party.

“Giving up your freedom already?” he taunted.

The words clawed at me.

“I don’t think you can offer my freedom. It was fun for one night. Thank you for introducing me to your hideout.” I tried to smile, but the reality was suffocating. I was no different than Katya. Did he see it? Feel it? I wanted to own my destiny. I wanted to control my fate. My life. My love. I didn’t have that kind of power; neither did his sister. But he did.

I looked away before my voice cracked.

“Amara?”

“Hmm?” My eyes drifted toward him again.

“I could drive you home, or I could take you one more place,” he offered. “It’s your decision, but I think we both know Ciro will be hell-bent on keeping an even closer eye on you after tonight. This might be your last night out for a while.”

“It almost sounds as if you hope I’m locked in the tower.” I peered at Luka.

“Hell, no. I just want you to consider that if you’re going to go rogue, you might want to take full advantage of it.”

My father was lying in his room, trying to recover from bronchitis. He was taking enough medication to sleep for a week. He didn’t know I hadn’t returned from the Petrov-Novikov engagement party. Ciro wouldn’t want him to know he lost me.

I pinched my lips together. “Let me guess. You want to take me back to your place. Show me the spectacular view of New Orleans from your over-the-top penthouse.”

He clicked his tongue. “No, not at all. But you paint a nice picture.” His eyebrows waggled, and my cheeks turned crimson. “I could change the plan I had in mind. Yours sounds better.”

Shit. He was intimidating. A smartass. A playboy.

“Let’s stick to plan A.”

He chuckled. “If you insist.”

“Is it as quaint as this place?” I tested. I had already fallen in love with the French bar.

“Even better.” He grinned.

“All right. If I’m going to face the firing squad over breakfast, I should at least have a good story to tell.” I plucked my beaded clutch in my hand.

“Always my motto.” His lips lowered close to my ear. “Carpe noctem.”

I tilted my eyes toward him slightly. “Seize the night.”

“What else?”

He guided me out of the bar with his hand pressed to my back. It seared as if he wanted to tattoo remnants of the night on my skin. But there weren’t needles. Just protective brushes of his fingertips. I thought I knew exactly what motto he would have chosen to ink along my body.

Six

LUKA

The windows were down. I looked over as Amara lifted the clasp from her hair, loosening the twist and freeing the pins. Her tresses spilled over her shoulders in the wind. Fuck me.

I threw the car into another gear and pressed on the pedal.

It would have been a hell of a lot easier if her father wasn’t part of the new blood moving into town. The Italians were overstepping. Something my father and Ivan had warned about. Amara was as defined by her role as I was by mine. I promised her a good time tonight. I would deliver. We could deal with family ties and consequences in the morning. For now, they didn’t exist.

I saw the confusion on her face when I pulled into the parking lot.

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