Chapter 11
Eleven
AMARA
I had chosen a red dress for the meeting. One that accentuated my waist and drifted up and down my leg at mid-thigh. I wanted Mr. Novikov to know I was a force of nature. He needed to take me seriously. Red was a power statement. I wanted the dress to set a different tone than my gown from Katya’s engagement party. I wasn’t a party guest today. I was an extension of my father’s arm. I was a part of the Amato dynasty.
I had to let the weight of that sink in. It didn’t matter if we were Russian or Italian, we all respected family and the central role it played in our lives.
I fidgeted in the backseat of the car while Ciro drove to the bar. I had looked in on my father before I left the house. He had already fallen asleep. I gave the house manager instructions to call me if he seemed any worse while I was gone .
Worrying about my father didn’t come naturally. He made it difficult to care, much less show affection or concern about his well-being. It wasn’t easy being his daughter. We didn’t hug. He never tucked me in as a child. There were no sentimental father-daughter moments. But something shifted between us today. His eyes saw something in me they’d never seen before.
It was a lie to try to pretend this meeting didn’t matter to me. I was nervous walking into the bar. Ciro’s strong presence wasn’t enough to calm me. I had to prove myself. I had to represent our family name.
The game changed in a single instant. The rehearsed pleasantries were useless as soon as I spotted Luka Novikov. My stomach flipped, and I sighed quietly.
Did Luka have any idea how excited and anxious I was when I saw him sitting at the table instead of his father? I was relieved I didn’t have to match wits with the king of New Orleans, but instead, I was faced with the danger of spending time with Luka. Not only drinks but dinner.
When I told Ciro to follow us in the SUV, I knew he wasn’t happy about the decision. However, we were in town on my father’s orders. I wasn’t about to tell him the dinner had switched to pleasure, not business.
Luka whipped his sports car in and out of tiny side streets and alleys.
“Are you trying to shake my security again?” I asked.
“No.” His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. “Should I?”
I smiled. Sitting next to him again, I remembered the thrill I experienced with him. There was something wild and untamed inside this man. I still refused to believe he was dangerous .
“I don’t think it would be a smart way to start our business relationship.”
He chuckled. “So that’s what this is? Business?” I felt his eyes drift in my direction. “I thought we left that back at the bar.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I answered honestly. It was quickly growing complicated. I was thrust into a role to fill a void for today only. It was foolish to believe my father would continue to let me take meetings. As soon as he was feeling better, he would marry me off. I had to remind myself my freedom was always ticking away.
“Maybe we should leave business out of it. It would simplify things,” Luka growled. I wondered if he was frustrated I had appeared in my father’s place.
“Maybe it would.”
Once again, he drove me to a restaurant I’d never seen or heard of. We were in the back alleys of the city. Before he had a chance to round the front of the car, Ciro was already at my door, scanning the street and keeping me in place.
“Relax,” Luka instructed. “I know this place.”
“Does this place know who she is?” Ciro eyed him. “I don’t know that it’s safe here. It’s my job to keep her safe. I’m the one who protects her.”
“As long as she’s with me, you don’t need to worry so much.” Luka tipped his head sideways.
I pushed between the two of them. The testosterone battle was frustrating. “Just stop. I’m hungry.” I stormed into the restaurant. Luka followed me.
“Why don’t you send him home?” he suggested once we were seated. “He’s a little obsessive about his job. You are safe with me. He needs to accept that.”
“I don’t know that he’ll listen.” I held the menu under the candlelight to read it. I didn’t want him to know that Ciro had no faith in him and distrusted everything about Luka and his family. “What about you? Don’t you travel with bodyguards?”
“Yes.”
“But, where are they?” I studied the guests in the dimly lit dining room.
“I sent them home after drinks.”
“I never saw anyone at the bar,” I argued. “Where were they? Who was it?”
He smiled. “That’s how it should be. My team knows how to fade into the background. They’re virtually ghosts. Ciro sticks out. Everyone knows he’s watching you. I believe it makes you a target. Fire him.”
I shifted in my chair. “He’s following orders.” I didn’t know why I chose to defend him.
“But when does he start doing what you want him to do?”
“I’m working on it.” I smiled wryly. I didn’t like that my bodyguard was planted near the restaurant bar, watching everyone who walked in and out of the door. I didn’t like that he was memorizing the moments of my dinner. I didn’t like that he was witnessing how I interacted with Luka. It felt like a violation, not an act of protection.
A solo saxophone took the stage in the corner of the restaurant. I hadn’t even realized it was there until the spotlight highlighted the musician. My breath caught in the back of my throat with the first note.
Luka reached underneath the table and stroked the top of my thigh with his thumb. I leaned toward him.
“Ya tebya hochu,” he whispered. I shivered as his fingers began to climb along the slit of fabric against my leg.
“What does that mean?” I asked. I knew no Russian. Not even how to say hello.
“I want you.” His eyes lit. There was a storm swirling in his pupils.
Every part of me tingled. My breaths became shallow. “I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered. I was suddenly filled with nerves.
“Why not? I think it’s going well, kotyonok. ”
“What’s with all the Russian?” I pressed. His feet hooked against my ankle, dragging my leg slightly wider. His fingers slid deeper along my inner leg. I whimpered.
“You need to understand I am Russian, Amara. Our worlds are not the same. And yet, neither one of us wants this night to end, do we?”
I turned my head from side to side. “No.”
His eyes were fixed on me with hunger. A hunger I’d never seen in a man before. If I turned around I risked Ciro having a better vantage point of where Luka’s hand was.
I lowered my eyes. “It’s bigger than us, isn’t it?”
I was afraid to look at him again. Afraid to feel my soul bounce around my body as if he had the other end of the string and tugged it when it suited him. It shouldn’t be like this. Who gave up control this quickly?
“That depends. ”
“On?” I decided to look up. I searched his eyes for something definitive. I didn’t believe that there was anything but trouble ahead for us. The hotel was an obvious impasse. I was on a short leash, and as soon as my father found a family to partner with, I’d be married.
With his other hand, his fingertips trailed the side of my cheek. I pressed into his open palm.
“How much control we give to others,” he replied softly. “If you give it to me, I will protect you, kitten.”
“Kitten? Is that what you called me?”
I chuckled. “It is. I can teach you more. So much more.”
The saxophone hit a high note. I felt the shudder carry down my spine and to my ankles. “We aren’t on equal ground. You have a say in your future. I’m no different than Katya. You realize that, don’t you? I don’t get to choose. You can’t protect me from whomever my father chooses to sell me to.”
There was a hint of pain in his eyes and then a flicker of determination. “What if we could change that?”
I held my breath, waiting for him to answer my prayers. I’d never accepted that I didn’t get to choose my fate. I’d fought it since the day I discovered I was an asset to my father. A bartering tool. A dowry that he would pawn to cash in on a new business or set up a partnership.
“Maybe it’s time I tell you a story about how my family works. About how Italians run their mafia families. Their daughters.”
He withdrew his hand from my leg and sat back. “I’m listening.” His angular jaw was set in a hard line.
“I was fifteen when we attended my cousin Gigi’s wedding. I was a bridesmaid. I was too old to be a flower girl. Too young to be responsible for any bride duties. It was an awkward age to be in the wedding party. And I hated it.”
He huffed. “I’m a grown man and I hate it now.”
“The girls took turns fluffing Gigi’s dress in the foyer of the cathedral. It was a huge Catholic Philadelphia wedding. For a second, I held her bouquet. The flower girls had been ushered out. The photographer took pictures. Her father strolled toward her, my uncle, my father’s brother.” I tried to paint the full picture for Luka so he knew this was an intrinsic family dynamic.
“I tried to hand the bouquet back to Gigi, but she was pleading with my uncle. She didn’t want to marry Danny. He was nice enough, but she hated his big nose. He wasn’t funny. He didn’t like dogs. I tried to step away, but I was stuck with the bouquet. My uncle’s cheeks turned red, and he raised his hand. I thought for a second he was going to slap Gigi, but he lowered it when she extended her hands for the flowers. It was as if he suddenly realized I was there.” I swallowed hard. The memory of that moment flooded back to me as if I were still in the cathedral entrance.
“He didn’t hit her, did he?” Luka asked.
“No, but I was as humiliated as she was. I whispered to her, but I didn’t know what to say. I was only a teenager. So, I just told her she looked beautiful. It was all I could think of before I was tossed through the doors and expected to walk down the aisle ahead of her to organ music.”
“That’s all you could do. Nothing else. You were a bridesmaid.”
My eyes met his. I wanted him to understand there was more to this. It was a tiny moment that painted a picture of generations of women in my family.
“That night after the reception, I asked my father if he knew Gigi didn’t want to marry Danny. I asked him if he knew Uncle Gio forced her into it. He loosened his tie and laughed at me. He told me it was a good business deal for Gio. It didn’t matter what Gigi thought of Danny. She was lucky anyone married her. That was my father’s answer to me. At fifteen,” I emphasized.
“There was nothing for you to do. Nothing.” His eyes were fierce. It took another breath before I could keep going.
“I didn’t sleep that night. I tried not to think about my cousin on her way to Rome for her honeymoon, but she was all I could think about. I didn’t want a Danny. I didn’t want a honeymoon in Italy. I didn’t want any of the things that were ahead of me. Do you get what I’m trying to tell you, Luka?”
He downed the rest of his drink. “I don’t know if you should have told me.”
I blinked. “I-I’m sorry. I should go.” I began to push back from the seat.
His hand covered mine, stroking my knuckles. “Sit.”