Page 23 of Cruel Longing

“You can and you will. You are a Novikov.”

Last night she was dazzling. Today, the reality had set in on what was before her and misery coated her face.

I ducked into the back of the SUV. The cool leather was a relief. I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t watch Katya cry as we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t want to think about what awaited her when she returned to the Petrov home. I wanted to believe Andrey loved her. At least enough to try to make her happy. Maybe something good could come from the union my father had chosen for her.

I asked my driver to make a detour on the way to the airport. I wasn’t going to Marguerite’s this time.

“Stop. Stop right here,” I ordered. I didn’t want him to drive too close to the gated entrance. I knew where the security cameras’ line of sight ended. Amara had taught me her secrets to sneaking in and out of the compound undetected by Ciro and Joey.

“Are you going in, sir?” he asked.

“No,” I snapped. I peered through the window and then through the bars of the fence surrounding the Amato compound.

All it would take was for me to stroll up to the gate and I’d be buzzed in. I could walk to the front door and demand I see Amara. I closed my eyes. She was only on the other side of the door. Close enough for me to alter our entire worlds.

But it wasn’t possible. I had made a deal. Exchanged her father’s life for her safety and protection. If I broke my word, I could no longer keep her safe. Lorenzo had to pay for what he had done to Uncle Ivan. There was no other way. Maksim and Nikoli were prepared to carry out the plan under my orders. Knocking on the door would eviscerate the advantage I had.

“Should we go, sir?”

“No.”

I stared at the door, willing it to open. Calling out to her to walk out into the sun. Just one more time. One more glimpse.

I wasn’t sure how long the driver and I sat there. Long enough for me to realize she wasn’t going to appear. There was no salve for this kind of torment. I had to let her go so I could save her.

That’s what I did.

“Drive, Armand. Just drive.”

Thirteen

AMARA

FIVE YEARS AGO

“Is something wrong, Amara?” My father’s voice barely penetrated the bubble I was in. “Amara?” he called.

He had joined me on the patio for coffee this morning. There was more color in his cheeks. I thought perhaps he had started a small step toward recovery. He had been in a good mood all week. He was eating more, including a full plate of waffles the cook had prepared for him.

“I seem to be interrupting you,” he teased.

“Did you do this?” I looked up from my tablet. I didn’t know how to disguise how I felt. My insides churned. There was a heavy weight pressing my stomach toward the floor. I almost couldn’t breathe.

“What are you talking about? Do what?” He lifted the china cup to take a sip of coffee.

I turned the tablet around so he could see the screen. I pointed to the headline. “This.”

“Let me see that.” He reached for the tablet, squinting at the screen.

I was reluctant to hand it to him as if he could somehow manipulate the headline I had just read. It was also a blatant admission that I kept up with news in France, particularly about what Luka was doing. My pride be damned right now.

I didn’t care that the accusation could sour his contentment. It was too important to pretend that there wasn’t a real possibility he had tried to burn Luka’s vineyard to the ground and Luka with it.

My father skimmed the article and placed the device between us. The screen faded to black. Seconds passed before he said anything. I waited for an excuse or a dismissal of my suspicion. It wasn’t what I received.

“You think a fire on the other side of the ocean is my doing?” He posed the question as if it was one of my quizzes.

“Well, is it?” I asked.

---