Chapter 32
LUKA
Icut the engine in front of the shop. Cindy sits in the passenger seat, staring at the place she called home for half of her life. I know it holds a lot of terrible memories and a handful of good ones.
The paperwork came through yesterday, signed and notarized, officially transferring ownership from Charles to Cindy.
I wasn't exactly thrilled when she first brought up the idea of running the garage.
The thought of my wife—the mother of my infant daughter—spending her days in a place that once housed betrayal and violence didn't sit well with me.
But watching her face light up when she talked about rebuilding the business and working with her hands again, I couldn't deny her.
Charles signed over the garage from his exile in Moscow. He’s doing all he can to get back into Cindy’s good graces. She’s allowed him to see Sofia via video chat on two occasions.
Two times too many in my opinion, but I’m letting her control the situation. She needs that control. Her entire life, she’d been a product of her circumstances.
“Ready?” I ask softly.
“Can we go in?” Leo asks from the backseat.
Grigori pulls his SUV to a stop on my right. Tony parks his on my left.
The Kozlov organization is scattered to the winds, but I will never take a chance with my family’s safety.
I systematically eliminated Adrian and three of the top lieutenants in the organization over the past several months.
I will keep cutting off the head of the snake until there is zero chance the Kozlov organization will ever rise again.
My father's approval of my methods came in the form of a promotion—head of American operations. It’s a position that carries both power and prestige as well as a target on my back.
Cindy and I talked about it for hours before I accepted.
More responsibility means more danger. More enemies and more reasons for someone to try to hurt my family.
But it also means more power to protect what's mine.
I have more resources to keep the remnants of hostile organizations from ever rising again.
“Let’s check it out,” Cindy says and opens the door.
I push open the side door of the garage with one hand while holding Sofia's carrier in the other. I can't help but feel satisfied with how things have turned out. Cindy follows behind me with Leo, both of them chattering excitedly about the possibilities for the space.
The garage renovation has been my project for the past three months, starting when Cindy was too pregnant to argue about accepting such an expensive gift.
I hired the contractors the day after she mentioned missing working on cars, her hands unconsciously miming the motion of turning a wrench while Sofia kicked inside her. Every week, while she focused on growing our daughter, I focused on rebuilding her dream.
"When did you do all this?" she asks now, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
"Started the week after the warehouse burned," I admit. "Viktor oversaw most of it while we were dealing with the baby."
She stops spinning, fixing me with those sharp eyes. "Luka, this must have cost—"
"What good is money if I can't use it to make you happy?"
The renovation wasn't just cosmetic. New reinforced walls rated for explosions. Bulletproof glass in every window. Safe room hidden behind the tool cage. Security measures disguised as modern updates. She doesn't need to know all that. Not yet.
"It's perfect," she breathes, and I know she means it. The shadows that haunted this place have been exorcised by industrial lighting and fresh paint. No more ghosts of Drew's cruelty or Anna's betrayal. Just clean lines and possibilities.
New lighting, fresh paint, state-of-the-art equipment, and enough security measures to make Fort Knox jealous. Two of my men are already positioned outside—visible deterrents to anyone stupid enough to think this place is an easy target.
"It's so much brighter," Cindy says, running her hand along one of the pristine workbenches. "I can actually see what I'm doing now."
Leo races ahead, exploring every corner with the boundless energy of a six-year-old who's been promised he gets to help with "real car stuff.
" Sofia makes a small sound from her carrier.
I adjust the blanket around her sleeping form.
At two months old, she's already got me wrapped around her tiny finger.
"There's something else," I tell Cindy, unable to keep the anticipation out of my voice any longer.
She turns to me with raised eyebrows. "Something else?"
I nod toward the far bay, where a car sits beneath a pristine cover. It’s a surprise. One that took me a while to secure. "Your first official restoration project."
Her eyes widen with curiosity and excitement as she walks toward the covered vehicle. Leo bounces beside her, asking a dozen questions I don't answer because I want to see her face when she pulls off that cover.
She grabs the edge of the tarp and looks back at me. "Ready?"
"Do it."
The cover slides away to reveal a 1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda in Plum Crazy Purple.
The original paint is faded but still showing hints of its former glory.
The body needs work, the interior is torn, and I suspect the engine will need to be completely rebuilt.
It's exactly the kind of challenge that makes Cindy's eyes light up like Christmas morning.
And sure enough, her reaction doesn't disappoint. She gasps, her hands flying to her mouth before reaching out to reverently touch the hood.
"Luka," she breathes. "This is... where did you find her?"
"Estate auction in upstate New York. The previous owner kept her in a barn for thirty years." I move to stand beside her. "I thought maybe we could work on it together. As a family."
The look she gives me could power the entire city. "Are you serious? You want to help restore her?"
"I want to learn," I correct. "You're the expert. I'm just the guy who's good at taking things apart."
Leo has been examining the car with the intensity of a seasoned mechanic, running his small hands along the fender. "What kind of car is this? It looks like the ones in Fast and Furious!"
Cindy laughs, the sound filling the garage with warmth. "That's because it is, buddy. This is a Plymouth 'Cuda, just like Dom's favorite car in the movies. This was the king of muscle cars back in the day."
"Really?" Leo's eyes go wide with hero worship. "Dom drove one of these?"
"He sure did. And now we get to fix this one up and make her beautiful again."
Much to my anguish, Cindy has introduced Leo to the Fast and Furious franchise. Those two have watched every movie at least twice. Anytime a sex scene comes on, she covers his eyes. She’s making our little boy into a car guy. He’s already asked me if he can be a race car driver when he grows up.
She looks at me over Leo's head, love and gratitude shining in her green eyes. "Want to help us, Leo? It'll be a big project. Lots of work."
"Yes!" He practically vibrates with excitement. "Can I help with the engine? Can I paint something? Can I—"
"Slow down there, Speed Racer," I interrupt with a chuckle. "One thing at a time."
Cindy has moved to the driver's side, peering through the dirty window at the interior. "The seats need to be completely reupholstered, but the frame looks solid. And this color..." She shakes her head in amazement. "They don't make colors like this anymore."
"Plum Crazy Purple," I supply. "Original factory color."
"How did you know I'd love it?"
The question catches me off guard because the answer is so simple and so complicated at the same time. How do I explain that I've memorized every expression that crosses her face and catalogued every comment she's made about cars over the past months?
"Because I know you," I say instead. "You see potential where other people see problems. You love things that are beautiful and powerful and a little bit dangerous."
The smile she gives me suggests she understands exactly what I'm really saying.
Sofia chooses that moment to wake up, making the small mewling sounds that mean she's hungry. Cindy immediately reaches for her. I carefully transfer our daughter from the carrier to her mother's arms.
"What do you think, sweet girl?" Cindy coos to Sofia while settling into the chair I had installed in the corner specifically for nursing breaks. "Should Mommy and Papa fix up this pretty car?"
Sofia's response is to root around looking for food, which makes all three of us laugh.
"I think that's a yes," Leo declares with authority.
As Cindy gets settled to feed Sofia, I find myself looking around the garage with satisfaction.
This place that once represented betrayal and loss has been transformed into something new.
A place where my wife can pursue her passion.
Leo will get to learn about engines and hard work.
Our family can build something together with our hands.
No blood—just hard work.
The security cameras are nearly invisible, but I know they're there.
My men are positioned outside, alert and professional.
The garage doors are reinforced steel, and there are more defensive measures than anyone would expect in an auto shop.
Because this isn't just Cindy's workspace; it's an extension of our home. I know she’ll be spending a lot of time here with the kids. I protect what's mine.
"The engine's going to need a complete rebuild," Cindy says, studying the 'Cuda while Sofia nurses. "New pistons, probably new heads, definitely new exhaust. It's going to take months."
"We have time," I tell her.
"It's going to be expensive."
"Money's not an issue."
“It’s going to take a lot of time and—”
"Cindy." I interrupt her listing of potential problems with a smile. "I didn't buy you a project car so you could talk yourself out of enjoying it."
She grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just excited. It's been so long since I had a real project."
Leo has climbed into the driver's seat, making engine noises and pretending to drive. "Vroom! Look out, bad guys, here comes Leo Markovic!"
"Careful in there," Cindy calls. "Some of those edges might be sharp."
I walk over to help him out of the car, but not before ruffling his hair. "What do you think, champ? Think we can make this thing run like Dom's?"
"Better than Dom's," he says with absolute confidence.
My phone buzzes with a text from Viktor about a meeting with the Toretto family this afternoon. It’s a reminder that the world outside these walls continues to demand my attention.
"So," I say, settling into a chair across from where Cindy is nursing Sofia. "Where do we start?"
"First, we need to do a complete assessment," she says, slipping into teacher mode. "Document everything that needs work, prioritize the most critical issues, and create a timeline and budget."
I nod.
“Know your enemy, plan your attack, execute with precision," she says, repeating something I told her a while back.
Leo perks up from where he's examining the interior. "Are we going to war with the car?"
"We're going to war with time and rust and neglect," Cindy tells him. "And we're going to win."