Chapter 46
Sophie
It’s been five days since my software located my dad.
Five long, nail-biting days where Luka and I had to organize every single detail of our plan.
It wasn’t easy, considering all of Luka’s buddies thought he was MIA.
Luckily, he has enough experience with this, and enough money to buy people’s silence.
And since we’re both currently out of our jobs, this has helped to keep us from clawing our eyes out with boredom.
There’s only so much sex we can have before it turns painful, so we desperately needed a new hobby.
But now, the time has come. We walk down the stairs of the rented plane and onto the tarmac. My stomach churns with nerves. I’d love to say it’s just the flying, but the whole thing is nerve-wracking.
Luka takes my hand, the warmth of it sending soothing waves up my arm.
Hades and Alan trot behind us, my other hand busy with their collars.
The air is different here. I can’t smell the salt, just thick, heavy smog.
It’s also much colder, and though I’m wearing a warm jacket, my sun-kissed skin still prickles with newfound coldness.
“Home, sweet home,” Luka mutters, making me giggle.
Alan barks, as if to confirm his words. The dogs must appreciate a change in the weather more than I do.
I lower to a squat and cuddle my furry babies before Luka takes their collars and walks them to a stern-looking older woman.
Her strict features relax as soon as the dogs reach her, and the tension within me releases.
Her doggy babysitting services cost about as much as a month’s rent, but her reviews promise she’s discreet, professional, and the animals love her.
Luka walks back to me, his eyes full of love. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I sigh.
He squeezes my hand in comfort, and I exhale a deep breath.
A large, dark, armored car is already waiting for us, with the key in the ignition.
The flight attendant brings our stuff out from the plane and Luka tosses them into the trunk of the car.
Even though we packed everything we own, our everyday possessions are just a tiny part of our luggage. Most of it is guns.
Luka taught me to shoot in the Bahamas, but I still don’t understand why so many of them were necessary.
As if reading my mind, he closes the trunk, commenting, “You never know how many guns you’re going to need.”
I roll my eyes playfully and get inside the car. We ride in silence through the outskirts of the city to an abandoned warehouse we recently acquired. He parks in the back so we’re not visible from the road and starts unpacking the car.
I cross my arms in front of my chest, eyeing the building. “Now this is home, sweet home.”
He cackles at my remark. The place looks like it’s seen better days, with broken windows and metal scrapings surrounding it. A shiver runs through me at the eerie sight.
The old me would’ve never entered this place. But I’m not the old me, am I? I’m the “runaway, killed-a-guy, dating a mafia boss” me. A snort escapes me at the thought. It’s ridiculous, really, but not far from the truth.
I can’t remember the last time I had a nightmare. It’s not a miracle. Every night, I go to bed so exhausted by Luka’s strikes and dick that there’s no other choice but to sleep through the night. He also sticks to me like glue, no matter the heat, so there’s no way for me to feel unsafe.
“Coming in?” he asks, his arms full of the things we’ll need.
I nod and follow behind. Unlocking the brand-new lock, he lifts the rolling metal doors, and we head inside.
Metal shelving units cover the walls, with random desks and chairs strewn around.
The windows are blocked with plastic wrap.
The paint has chipped off most walls, and the floor is covered in miscellaneous junk.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” Luka asks, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I’m sure.” I shoot him a smile. “We have a plan, remember?”
“Plans can change.”
I shrug, though I don’t fully agree. My anxiety has gotten vastly better, but I’m still a planner. Anything that has multiple variables gets me back to that sense of uncertainty.
He kisses my temple. “You going to be okay here?”
“Yeah, I will,” I respond. “You’ll be back soon, anyway.”
“I will.” He checks his watch. “I should get going.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let me, pressing his lips to mine instead.
With a quiet sigh, I let him enter my mouth.
The kiss quickly turns passionate, and his hand lowers to grab my ass.
I whimper, but the sound yanks me out of the trance that is Luka, and I pull away.
“As much as I’d love for us to continue this.
” I motion between us. “We have a job to do.”
He lands one last quick peck on my lips.
“You’re right.” He lifts my chin with his finger.
“But remember, if you change your mind, you just need to tell me. I’ll follow whatever you say.
If you want us to kill him, we will. If you want us to invite him to our wedding, I’ll do that too.
” I gasp because marriage isn’t something that we talked about, but his eyes stare at me with determination.
“Whatever you want, mila, it’s yours. I’d leave a thousand kingdoms for you, never looking back. You’re the only thing that matters.”
His words drip down my insides, wrapping them in a warm cocoon. My eyes turn hazy, and my throat tightens. “I love you,” I whisper, swallowing around the lump in my throat.
“You’re everything, Sophie.” He shakes his head, like what he feels is too hard to explain with words.
“You need to go now.”
“I know. But once I get back, you’re not leaving my sight for a minute.”
“Fine,” I groan, though I love the idea.
He brushes his lips over mine, grabbing one of the black sports bags and starts for the car. He hates this part of the plan.
But we couldn’t risk involving anyone else in this. Not while we’re on the run. And kidnapping someone really isn’t my cup of tea.
Besides, I have work to do.
I unzip one of the two bags left on the floor, grabbing a pair of black gloves.
My hair is already tied into a firm bun to minimize the chance of leaving any DNA here.
Next up is the laptop. I place it on one desk, setting it up for what we need.
The last thing left in the bag are the stacks of paper we printed.
I spread them on multiple desks, so that they don’t go unnoticed.
Now, there’s nothing left to do but wait.
The chair grates on the concrete floor as I drag it to the safest spot—away from the windows. I grab the phone from my pocket and open a chess app to pass the time.
Giving up on chess after five victories in a row, I slip the phone back in my pocket. The more time passes, the quicker my heartbeat races, and the drier my mouth is. Even though I’m in an abandoned warehouse, the anxiety I feel isn’t for me. No, it’s thinking where the hell Luka is.
Is he safe?
Is everything going according to plan?
If Russians catch him, they’ll kill him on the spot. He convinced me it’ll be all right, but that’s not something he can guarantee, is it?
My breathing picks up and the familiar cycle of panic starts.
Hello darkness, my old friend.
I try to take some deep breaths, but it doesn’t make a difference. I cross my arms over my chest, tapping my palms gently on my shoulders, but still—nothing. So I go back to an old favorite, the grounding technique.
Five things I see.
The papers strewn around. The suspicious-looking stain on the back wall…
What’s that sound? I jerk my gaze to the road.
Oh, thank fuck… He’s back.
Jumping from my chair, I forget all about the grounding exercise and wait patiently for Luka to get out of the car. My heart’s working on overdrive, but it’s excitement I’m feeling, not anxiety.
He slams his doors before opening the trunk. He lowers, and with a grunt, lifts something from the car.
Not something. Someone.
The figure has a black bag over its head. Its brown shirt is half-ripped, probably from fighting, and his pants are riding dangerously low. Luka works in silence, like we agreed, bringing the figure to the chair I was sitting on.
Stifled groans escape the textile bag, and I know Luka must have gagged him.
He works on handcuffing the figure to the chair and gestures for me to lower the overhead door.
Almost jumping in place, I rush to do that.
The warehouse rattles lightly as the door snaps shut, and the figure jolts in response.
Still in silence, Luka draws me into a comforting hug. My face buried into his neck, I breathe in his scent, which relaxes me like a cocktail of benzodiazepines.
Time to do this shit.
My fingers pinch the top of the black bag, and I count to three before lifting it.
One, two, three.
Dad’s eyes widen as he notices me, his muffled sounds now louder without the coverage of the bag. I’m pretty sure my face mimics his because the fact that it’s him tied to this chair isn’t a surprise, but the way he looks is.
He looks older, which makes sense. But he doesn’t look ten years older.
No, he looks like he lived two lifetimes while we’ve been distant.
His face is carved with deep wrinkles. His glasses are crooked, lines surrounding his sunken eyes.
He lost weight. His skin is pale and sickly.
The man looks like death is knocking at his door.
I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. I thought he would be this grandiose figure, powerful enough to destroy my life. But he simply looks… pathetic.
Luka unties the cloth around his mouth, and he spits it out to the floor.
“Sophie, you’re here! You’re okay.” His voice is hoarse but rushed.
“No thanks to you.”
“I tried. I tried to get you out. We were working on it.”
“You were making sure your ass was safe while I could have been killed, or maimed, or raped, for all you cared.” My voice sounds weirdly calm.
“You know it’s not like that.”
“No? What’s it like then? Because from where I’m sitting you could have sacrificed yourself to save me, just like you could have sacrificed yourself to save mom. But you didn’t, didn’t you?”
“I did my best. I never wanted to get you involved in all this. Not your mom and not you.”
“You involved both of us the moment you started working with the fucking mafia.”
“You don’t understand what it was like. I just wanted my girls to have a comfortable life.”
My skin prickles at his use of ‘my girls’. It’s what he used to call us. But he lost that privilege a long time ago. “Yeah, mom must be really comfortable six feet under. And I was super comfortable, held in a dungeon for two fucking months.”
“It was never my intention…”
“You know what, Dad? I used to be in awe of your mind. I used to listen to every fucking word you said, just to get a piece of your wisdom. But you must think I’m an idiot if that’s the story you’re selling me.
” I poke a finger into his forehead, his eyes crossing as he looks up.
“You can calculate probabilities in your head in seconds. You knew exactly what the risks were. You just thought the money was worth it.”
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and I turn to the side, unwilling to let him see. Luka steps into his view.
Dad’s eyes widen again. “It’s you. Matej’s son. I-I-I didn’t want to do that. They made me.”
Luka’s voice is as calm as a still lake as he speaks to him. “I used to think that you betraying my father was the worst thing a person could do. But he was my family, not yours. Betraying your own family…” He whistles. “That’s downright sadistic.”
“W-what are you going to do to me?” The smell of urine fills the air. My dad has pissed himself.
“What do you think?” Luka points a gun at him and he squirms in the chair.
“No, please. Please, no. Don’t do this!”
Luka presses the gun to his forehead. “You know, that’s exactly what your daughter cries in her sleep. Those words that cut so deep when spoken from her mouth sound hollow coming from you.”
“Please… I don’t want to die.”
There’s no vindication in this. No closure. Just pity for the man who used to be my role model. I guess Luka notices my deflated mood because he lowers his gun, eliciting a sigh of relief from my dad.
“If it were up to me, you’d be dead. But your daughter is smarter than that.” Luka shoots me a proud smile. “So she made another plan.” He checks his watch. “We need to get going.”
“Sure.” I dip my head and tie the cloth back around Dad’s mouth.
Luka lifts the rolling door and starts loading our things back into the car. I press a letter on the laptop’s keyboard and turn to our captive. “Don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long. Good luck.”
I head to the exit before shooting him a last look. “There’s one thing I’m grateful for. Thank you for teaching me to play chess.” My gaze finds Luka’s. “It ended up being quite useful.” My face pulls into a small grin. I lower the door, the rattle of it shaking me from the inside.
“Sorry, baby, but we really need to leave. It took me longer than planned to get him out.”
“Coming.” I jog to the car.
As soon as I shut my door, Luka hits the gas pedal, peeling out of this place. We hit the main road just a few minutes before we hear police sirens echoing in the distance. My heart beats a fast but steady rhythm, adrenaline coursing through my blood.
I lift my hand, only to notice it’s shaking. Luka has one hand around the wheel, the other relaxing on his thigh. Of course, this is nothing new for him.
Or maybe it is.