Page 62 of Cruel Redemption

He chuckled. “Maybe we need a name change and some rebranding.”

I tipped my lips upward. I didn’t care about the name right now. His lips blistered mine and I kissed him like this was the first time, not the last and we had made it through to the other side of the darkness.

We turned at the knock on the door. I was surprised to see Ciro.

“You shouldn’t be up. Why aren’t you resting?” I asked.

“I need to speak to you. Alone.” I glanced at Luka. I didn’t want to leave.

“Okay. But only for a minute.”

Luka was reluctant to let me out of his arms. “I’ll wait here.”

I met Ciro in the foyer. “Come with me,” he instructed. We walked to the reading room, which always remained closed. It was an odd choice for the meeting.

When the door closed behind us I sighed. “Is this about my so-called sister?” I asked.

Ciro shook his head. “You can’t marry Luka Novikov.”

I exhaled. “I was hoping after everything you had been through together that maybe the ice would thaw. That you would see the Bratva aren’t what you think they are.”

Ciro cleared his throat. “I wish that were true. But the Bratva are everything I know them to be. He is the head of the snake.”

I didn’t like his tone. I snorted. “Please, Ciro. The feud needs to end. Luka and I are merging our lives. I would appreciate you easing up.”

The way he looked at me, I began to shiver. Something was off. This was not another lecture. This was not a standard warning.

“Wh-what is it?” I didn’t want to know. For a few more minutes I wanted to be happy. I wanted to know the love I had with Luka. His protection. His devotion. Whatever Ciro said next was bound to destroy it.

“Luka Novikov ordered the execution of your father, Amara. He had Joey killed.” The room began to spin. I reached out for a wingback chair, tufted in green velvet. Ciro caught me as the next sentence spilled from his mouth. “Luka kidnapped you. You were his prisoner.”

Thirty-Three

Luka

“Get the fuck out of my house!” I turned around in time to see a crystal vase nearly clip the side of my head. I ducked.

“Amara.” I eyed her, taking a step toward her.

“No,” she growled. “You monster. You piece of shit, monster.”

I imagined any moment Ciro would walk in with a gun pointed to my head. I snaked an arm around Amara’s waist, dragging her from the door and locking it in place. She screamed, trying to free herself. I shoved a chair against the door to create more of a barricade.

“Stop,” I growled.

I put her on the ground and she spun with a ferocious glare in her eye. “Get out. I never want to see you again. Never.”

Her chest heaved with irrational, heavy breaths.

I took another step toward her, eyeing her in case she chose to hurl something else toward me, like the fire poker she was nearing.

“You found out about the kidnapping,” I stated.

“You murdered my father,” she hissed.

“He murdered my uncle,” I countered.

Her eyes widened. It was information she didn’t have. Someone had only given her pieces of information. It took about two seconds to assess my mother had gotten a message to Ciro. Fuck. She was good. I had destroyed her stability, so she was willing to burn my life to the ground. A woman with zero maternal instincts.

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