Page 48 of Cruel Existence

“Let’s go talk. Alone,” I urged. I threw the cigarette on the concrete step and extinguished it with my shoe. I needed to get her to back out of this purchase, immediately.

“My father is expecting me.”

“Two. minutes.” My voice was gruffer than it should have been for someone trying to persuade a woman who hated me to listen to what I had to say.

“For?” She brought the shades to the end of her nose. She motioned to Ciro to give us some space.

“You know what.”

She shrugged. “I’m not going to do the work for you. If that’s all you have to say…” She took another step toward the black SUV parked in front of the bank.

“No.” My hand landed on her shoulder. “Forget the hotel. Just talk to me. Tell me why you did you pull that stunt back there?”

“Stunt?” she scoffed. “Get the fuck out of my way,” she hissed.

“Amara, you put yourself in danger. Undo it. Now.”

The guilt had chipped at my soul. How was I going to protect her and keep her out of the crosshairs if she had just walked into them? There was now a direct target on her.

She paused, taking in a big breath.

I thought I had her. I thought she’d listen. I thought the connection between us was strong enough to undo the fucking pain I had caused her. Maybe she knew there had to be a good reason. I had done it for her.

I was wrong.

“Stay away from me.” She nodded toward Ciro who was next to her in one giant stride.

I watched as he helped Amara climb into the back of the SUV. Ciro slid behind the wheel. The doors were locked, and shedrove away without saying anything else. When I turned around, Viktor was waiting at the curb.

“Ready, sir? We have to tell your father what just happened.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed the attorney to our car a few yards away. My security detail backed away, allowing me to climb inside.

“I’ll break the news to him,” I offered. “It’s my duty as Sovietnik.”

“I get paid to do this kind of thing. I’ll do it.”

I buckled my seatbelt. “But you aren’t the reason we lost the hotel.”

“I don’t know that Mr. Novikov will see it that way. It was an open bid at the bank. That girl went higher than anyone should have. How can you be sure he would blame you, Luka?”

“Trust me. I’m the reason.”

Iwasn’t afraid of my father. I’d seen how he wielded power my entire life. He taught me those skills. Trained me to take over the business. I couldn’t fear what I knew so intricately.

I’d seen him cut men to their knees with quiet words. I’d seen terror cover their faces when they realized Dmitry Novikov had them by the balls. He couldn’t make me cower. I only hoped Viktor could hold his own because he was going to need all the backbone and spine he could muster to tell my father we lost the Vieux Carre to the Italians. The same family who had his brother murdered.

Twenty-One

AMARA

Iflopped on my bed, kicking the high heels that matched my dress to the floor. I was supposed to feel triumphant. We had won. But all I felt was shaky and uncertain. That look on Luka’s face on the steps outside the bank. It almost made me crumble. Almost.

There was something in the way he looked at me that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with regret. I could see it. The darkness. The endless spiral of guilt. The plea to make it right. I pulled a pillow under my face to block out the thoughts clouding my judgment.

He looked genuinely worried. He said I was in danger.

He had gotten under my skin. He was in my head. I thought about his lips and his fingertips. I didn’t forget the hurt. The humiliation. I hadn’t forgotten how he cast me out of his apartment like a whore. I’d never forget that moment. Only, I couldn’t figure out which draw was stronger—theneed to feel his breath. To look in his eyes again. Or the feeling that I was nothing but useless baggage, weighing him down. An obstacle to kick out of the way. I struggled to weigh the emotions. I was drowning in them. Tumbling through the darkness Luka had laid at my feet.

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