Page 1 of Cruel Redemption

One

Amara

Luka Fucking Novikov. He had ruined me once. Was I about to let him ruin me again?

How far did the ruination go? Was there an ending? Just when I thought I had locked him into the deepest darkest recesses of my soul, I had let him back in. I didn’t just let him in. I let him in fully. With sparkle and gold dust. With every part of my heart ready to wrap its arteries around his to keep it pulsing. I wondered if I would give up air to breathe for him. Is that what this kind of love did to me? Was I built for this? For him?

The gears squeaked and squawked. The entire carriage jostled, and I grabbed hold of the bar lining the wall behind me. Was the sudden jerk meant to shock me into reality? To remind me that Luka could paint a beautiful portrait, but I hadn’t built an empire to hand him the paint brush.

It was too easy. Too simple a maneuver to divulge in this fantasy of his. Because that’s what it was, right? A fantasy. I tried to imagine the war that could ensue if the Russian families realized what he intended to do with me.

They wouldn’t only want an explanation; they would want a piece of the organization that had become my kingdom. They would want a share of what I had.

Luka had family here. Friends. Generations of alliances and relationships that I had yet to establish. I’d only been in power five years. I couldn’t measure my success by loyalty and coalitions. My yardstick was contracts, properties, real estate, and the fortune I had amassed. I kept the families at arms’ length. What would happen when they realized he was the crack in my armor?

I took a giant breath, wondering when I’d ever reach the lower level.

Our worlds weren’t meant to unite like this. Not in a top floor executive suite with a his and hers adjoining room. Not with sunlight streaming through the windows into whatever elegant décor I designed. There was a reason I used the Bratva for security and muscle. Luka’s organization didn’t walk in the sun. They thrived in the shadows and darkness. Beneath the city. Under the stars. Sharing an office with him? I pressed my thighs together, still warm where his thumbs imprinted on my skin. My heart raced, picturing him on his knees before me.

Yet, his proposal had seeped into my every thought. It swirled and spun until I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t agree to the merger. It was impossible to join our organizations. I closed my eyes, waiting to feel where the thought of telling Lukanolanded in my body. Instead, my eyes blinked open with the truth. Neither my heart nor body would ever say no to him.

I stepped out of the elevator and took a giant breath. I didn’t have to explain everything to Enzo now. One fire at a time. First, Luka and I would help him and Katya escape from the Petrovs. There would be time to discuss contracts, office remodeling, and the fallout we faced if any of the families heard about our talks.

Luka’s sister came first.

I pushed through the revolving lobby doors, making sure to clear the spinning glass panels and get my balance. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the sunlight, despite the sunglasses I adjusted at the brim of my nose. I looked up. Enzo leaned against the car with sideways toward me, focused on his phone. I thought from here I could see a smile tug at the corner of his lips. I couldn’t help but smile too wondering if he was texting Katya.

Had I become a hopeless romantic? I thought that part of me had vanished long ago with my stack of classic romances hidden beneath my bed as a teenager. But I still felt the giddiness snake under my skin. The way Luka’s mouth seared hope and the future onto my lips. Promises made. Promises I wanted to believe he would keep.

We were different. No longer under our fathers’ influences. No longer pawns in a game we couldn’t win. Maybe I could slow things down. Give us a chance to adjust to the new alignment. Adjust to being together before the world crashed down upon us with judgment and war plans. Luka had a way of convincing me to step out of my comfort zone. Maybe I could convince him this was something that needed strategic planning and time.

As easily as the light and giddiness had enveloped me, I had a sudden sense of dread. My scalp tingled. The hair on my arms stood up despite wearing the light silk jacket. Something was off. It felt wrong.

As I stepped toward the car, my head whipped toward the direction of a black van speeding in Enzo’s direction. My throat clamped shut with a scream that had no passage.

I watched in horror as the van stopped and someone in all black jumped out of the side door, leaving it open. I tried to call for Enzo, but it was like a nightmare and the words were stuck in my throat.

The man covered Enzo’s head with a bag and another person joined him. Together they lifted him and tossed him in the back of the van. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. I searched for Ciro, remembering with gut-wrenching regret he had left for France. He never left me. He was as reliable as the sun rising and setting every day.

I was only a few steps from the building. If they hadn’t noticed me, I could run back inside for help, but there was a strong hand on my arm. He must have flanked me from behind when I was watching Enzo’s kidnapping. I screamed and wriggled and kicked. I lunged my body forward, realizing his grip was on my clothes. A superficial hold on me. With another giant tug, I freed myself from the pale pink jacket. He was as surprised as I was that I was free. He held the expensive silk in his gloved hands. The realization that this group of thugs was dressed to kidnap chilled every part of me. I had to get out of here. Now. His large frame blocked the door, and I sprinted away from the van.

I didn’t know how far or how fast to run, only that I had to keep going until I was safe. I heard the man’s steps gaining on me. I heard shouting. Yelling. Grunts from my attacker.

I turned a corner and then another. I dared to look over my shoulder, and he was closer. Shit. I wasn’t prepared to run for my life and I wasn’t dressed for it. I kept pushing myself harder and faster. I kicked off my heels. I could make better time without them. I didn’t know if the second I needed to take them off cost me paces where he could cut the distance between us.

I whimpered, knowing I didn’t have a destination or place to hide. I was his prey, desperate for sanctuary.

“Please, please, please,” I begged for an opening, an escape, as I charged down another alley.

“She’s here!” he yelled at the other men.

“Shit.”

A piece of broken glass cut my foot. I felt the slice against my skin the instant my foot hit the pavement. It threw me off balance as the pain shot through my heel and up my leg. I hobbled against the wall, checking doors and banging on windows.

There had to be at least one person who could help. One garden that cut through to another alley. I tried everyone.

But the men were getting closer, and I had no way out.

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