Page 42 of Luka

I want her gone.

She’s cute. She’s sexy. Butfuck, I want my head back.

“Arseni will be here to pick you up in a few hours,” I say, relaxing at the coolness of my tone, feeling myself come back. I don’t look back at her as I speak. “He’ll keep you for the remainder of your life, so do yourself a favor, and hold his attention better than you’ve held mine.”

With that, I descend the ladder, grab my keys, and leave, unable to stay in the apartment with the girl another minute.

12

LUCIA

Arseni’s place is worlds apart from Tall’s.

Actually, I don’t believe this is Arseni’s place at all. Cuffed to a radiator, I roam my eyes around the dingy motel room, landing on his clothes strewn about, food wrappers crumpled on the nightstand and overflowing onto the floor. I don’t think he lives here, but if his behavior is reflective of how he treats his own space, I can only imagine what a disaster it is.

I try to remember if I saw a dirty dish in Tall’s sink. An article of clothing on the ground. A ring on the coffee table left behind after a careless refusal to use a coaster.

I don’t remember seeing anything out of place, any disorder. But then again, I’m only distracting myself.

Mario’s image flashes in my mind for the thousandth time, and I clench my eyes shut and try to suppress it, try to focus on the task at hand. Crying will not get me closer to him. Worrying will do me no good.

He isn’t dead. Tall’s brother confirmed it. The quicker I can get to him, the more likely chance of that remaining the case. And that all starts with Arseni.

I don’t know if I could ever appeal to his empathy enough for him to let me go, but I’ve decided I don’t have the time. Instead, Ineed toescape. Find the motel Leo talked about, find Mario, and beg Papá to forgive me, and more importantly, to forgive Mario.

I’ll never leave the estate again. I’ll marry whoever Papá wants, and I will live with that man in Papá’s chosen house for us, still within his compound. He’ll have full control over my life as long as he spares Mario’s.

I lay my head down against the radiator and listen to the shower run, trying not to think about how bitterly ironic it is that I want so badly to escape this motel room so that I can run back to my other prison.

But it’s worth it. It’sworthit. If Mario was willing to sacrifice his life for mine, then I must be willing to do the same.

When the shower shuts off, I lift my head toward the open bathroom door. I ignore the bottom half of Arseni—wrapped in a towel—when he steps out of the shower, but he's even more handsome than I imagined he would be bare-chested. Muscular like Tall, but more tanned. Scars dot his torso that beg for understanding, like they apologize on his behalf. Tall is without a doubt a sociopathic monster. Arseni is awful, but is he irredeemable? Could it be that he suffers from a hard past and was given the misfortune of being manipulated and groomed by a man as sadistic as Tall?

I don’t know. But I hope so. I hope he has humanity.

I shift onto my knees while whimpering past the cloth tied around my mouth as he enters the room. The handcuffs securing my wrists ping against the radiator as I tug in a silent plea to release me.

Arseni smirks to acknowledge me but veers to his discarded pants to pull out a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter.

Letting his towel fall from his hips, he lights a cigarette and stares at me, his head tilting. I stare back, as difficult as it is.

He sits down on the bed before lounging back, flicking ashes onto the carpet like a barbarian. When I furrow my brow at him, he laughs.

“Did you enjoy your time with Luka?” he asks.

Without pause, I shake my head.

Arseni smiles. “Would you have rather been with me?”

I’m not as quick to answer. The question feels cruel. Because of course I don’twantto be here, but still, I slowly nod.

I expect Arseni’s smile to widen, but instead, it flattens. He takes a drag of his cigarette then blows the smoke in my direction.

“I don’t think he likes you either,” he says. “He tells me I can keep you now. He doesn’t want another turn.”

My stomach sinks at his words, though I’m not sure why. I don’t plan on sticking around long enough for that to matter.

“Do you know what that means?” Arseni asks.

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