Page 37 of Cruel Existence

“She’s just a girl,” I whispered.

It was true. A college graduate. Gorgeous. Smart. Sexy as sin. She had a decade to decide what to do with her life. It didn’t have to happen here in her father’s study.

“If you think she’s just a girl, why do you call? Why send flowers? Take her to dinner? Show up like this? You wanther, Mr. Novikov.” He grinned. “I have something you want and there’s nothing wrong with admitting it. I find it helps in negotiations.”

I rubbed the back of my head. “I didn’t say she’s ordinary. I enjoy her company. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to look at rings. I think you’re forgetting there are family rules at play. Rules you are eager to break. I have a say. I’m the fucking Sovietnik!” I slammed my fist on the table. It was the bourbon surfacing. “I decide.”

He lifted his hands in the air, but I saw his eyes land on a brown button that almost blended in with the rest of his desk. I knew Ciro would be on the other end of it if he pressed it. Most likely with a gun to my head.

“You can decide. It can be Amara. Or not.” He shrugged. “I’ll find someone else who will take her. Make no mistake about that. I have a short list, but I could make it a rather long one. Would you like to hear who wants her?”

I felt a lump, hard and painful lodge in my throat. The idea of Lorenzo contracting her to another family made me want to put my fist through the wall. She didn’t belong to anyone. She was free. She was a goddamn goddess who should be treated like one. My stomach soured.

I glowered at him. “You’re a bastard, Lorenzo.”

“What happened to ‘sir’? You’re talking to your future father-in-law, son,” he added.

I only saw red after that. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. I couldn’t stand his voice. I charged out of the office and slammed into a maid in the hallway. Her dustpan clattered on the floor. I threw open the door.

I didn’t expect to see Amara leaning against the sports car.

“Hi.” She smiled. She had changed out of the bikini.

I moved past her, reaching for the door handle.

“Luka? What’s wrong? What happened?”

I slammed it closed. “I can’t talk. I have to get out of here.”

“Wait.” She pressed her hands against the driver’s door. “Have you been drinking? What’s wrong? My father said something. What? Just tell me. Or let me drive you home, and then you can tell me,” she pleaded. “Don’t go like this, Luka. What about Venice? Or the castle? I want to hear about the castle.”

But I couldn’t listen to her any more than I could to her father. I spun out of the circle drive and away from the Amato mansion. I had an impossible decision to make.

Fifteen

AMARA

“What did you say to Luka Novikov?” I demanded an answer from my father. His gaze was out the window. He watched one of the gardeners trim rose bushes. The brown clippings fell around the man’s boots. He stooped, collecting them in a bucket.

“It was an introduction. We got further than I expected.” He hadn’t turned to look at me. “Why do you ask, Amara?”

“What does that mean?” I had changed into a sundress while he and Luka spoke. The air conditioning was cool against my skin.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine.”

“It doesn’t feel fine.” I was good at reading my father’s moods, but I couldn’t read his thoughts.

“I’m handling it.”

“He’s not happy. That’s not a good thing. You know who his family is. What they are,” I pleaded.

His light brown eyes darkened. “Do you fear them, Amara? Do you think they are more powerful than me and your Uncle Gio?”

I closed my eyes. I was exhausted by the constant argument over who had the most strength. Who was scarier? Who could outwit the other?

“Answer me.”

“I’m not scared of Luka,” I confessed. “But I’m not so sure about the rest of his organization. They aren’t like us.”

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