Page 7 of Cruel Existence

Sharp, precise lines of his jaw. Edible lips. My heart continued to pound. It must have been the hand grenade and the hurricane mixing into a lethal potion, clouding my mind.

I didn’t gawk at men. I didn’t get attached to them. My father made it unbearable to date. My first kiss had been in a supply closet at school when I had stayed after to tutor another kid. It was the only place my father’s men weren’t watching me.

I shivered, realizing how exposed I was out here tonight. I took a step backward, rethinking everything I had done to get here. That’s when he turned. His eyes caught mine. I should have looked away. He had caught me and I’d rather stand my ground than slink back into the bar.

What I didn’t expect was for him to whisper in her ear and then wink at me. I saw how his thumb trailed along her spine.

I blinked. Shit. I blinked first. An unrelenting surge of jealousy had gripped me. Envy. I didn’t know what in the hell it was. He was a stranger. Clearly older than me. A native of the city.Sexy, cocky, and not in the world I lived in. If only he knew who I was, winking and smiling would be the last thing he’d want to do with me.

When he turned back around to speak to the man across from him at the table I hurried toward the Uber pickup corner, cursing myself for being stupid. Everything about tonight had been a mistake.

I shimmied up the outside lattice and onto the railing outside my room and pushed the window sash up enough to slide under the glass and into the cool dark room. I half expected to see Ciro sitting in a chair or on the edge of the bed with his gun in view. But the room was empty.

Perspiration stuck to my skin and the blood from my cut crusted around my ankle. I peeled off my clothes and threw them in the hamper. I turned on the shower, letting the water run for a few minutes before I stood beneath the warm stream of water.

When I toweled off and climbed under the cool sheets, all I could think about was the man on the patio. My chest ached and there was a gentle throb between my thighs. It was a desperate way to torment myself. To distract from everything else that made me miserable. But I thought about the lines of his face and his eyes. The way he held my stare, capturing it for seconds I let him have of me. It was all so stupid. He was on a date. I was about to married off to another family’s Capo. Lingering on the street any longer would have only fueled my longing for something I could never have—love.

Four

LUKA

Assholes. All of them.

I watched them dance and drink through the windows. The house was lit up like a damn Christmas tree. My eyes moved from the top floor to the bottom. There wasn’t a dark room in the old mansion. The street was lined with houses like this one. Wrought iron gates. Family crests hung over the entryway, meant to intimidate. Gas lamps flickering with false warmth.

“Luka, you going in?”

I turned when Mikhail Sokolov appeared. I hadn’t thought about who was on the guest list. I took another drag on the cigarette.

“I guess.” I shrugged.

He stood next to me, trying to figure out what I was doing outside when the party was on the other side of the door.

“You kind of have to, don’t you?” I felt my friend’s eyes watching me instead of the house.

I blew a puff of smoke in the air. “Katya would notice if I didn’t show for her engagement party.”

“The in-laws have a nice place.” He straightened the tie on his tuxedo.

I nodded. My sister was engaged to Andrey Petrov. His family owned a steakhouse franchise that was well-established in the southern states. Andrey’s mother’s family was considered to be one of the founding families of New Orleans. My father approved of the match. I knew he had orchestrated it. My sister hadn’t had much say in the arrangement.

“I hope Katya likes it. She’s moving in here.” I snuffed the cigarette under my shoe.

“That’s rough.” Mikhail slid his hands in his pockets. “Married at twenty-one and moving in with her husband’s parents? Even if they do get their own floor, sounds like a shitty way to start a marriage.”

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth. The mint immediately washed out the taste of tobacco.

“I need to get this over with.”

Mikhail slapped me on the back. “They have free booze. It can’t be that bad.”

I chuckled. Free anything didn’t have meaning to me. We climbed the front steps together. The marble gleamed. As the doors swung open, the music from the band blared. Mikhail and I had been friends since we were kids. We grew up in the families. Each of us the firstborn son, poised to takeover one day and run the Bratvas in our fathers’ names. Our families were allies. Always a plus.

“Bar’s this way. I’ll be right back.” I lost Mikhail when he disappeared in the crowd.

I strolled past the guests, looking for an easy exit. The fewer the people, the better. That was impossible with this kind of setting.

“Luka, you made it!” Suddenly a blur of white hurdled toward me. It was Katya in a beaded gown. My younger sister wiggled past an older couple and threw herself at my chest.

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