Chapter 14
Fourteen
LUKA
“ P apa, this is Luka Novikov. He stopped by to say hello. That’s all.” I saw how quickly she walked past me to join her father as if there were an imaginary line, and she had to choose the appropriate side.
I hurried around the pool to extend my hand. “Mr. Novikov, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to New Orleans.” I had to keep the ruse up at every angle. I would never subject myself to such an ordinary meeting with a mafia boss, but I was all over his daughter only seconds ago so the dynamics were shifting quickly.
The older man returned the handshake. “Thank you. Why don’t you join me in my study?” He glared at his daughter.
“Actually, sir, I came to see Amara. Thought she might like a drive out to the beach. It’s a good day for it. I’m sure you’re an outdoorsy man. You’ve noticed how beautiful Louisiana is, haven’t you? ”
He stared at my button-up shirt. “You’re going to the beach like that? Are you an outdoorsy man, Mr. Novikov?”
“I have a bag in the car,” I lied.
“I think we should have that drink,” he answered. “Amara, get dressed,” he snapped. “Luka and I are going to catch up.”
There was fire in her eyes, but I didn’t know which one of us fueled it. Me, or her father. I wanted to pull her to me. To tell her I could still fix this. There was a way to sort through the family politics and find a way to get her out of here. But those weren’t words I could say in front of her warden. I had to find another way.
I left her in the courtyard with Ciro and followed her father inside the house. He led me to his office. A maid closed the doors behind me as soon as we crossed the threshold. He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one to me. His study looked like my father’s. Old. Dark. Classic décor. The similarities were eerie. A reminder that Amara believed there weren’t so many differences between our ways of life and family.
“Thank you.” I nodded. “Sir.”
He sat behind his desk, taking a position of authority. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make our meeting last week. Amara tells me you’re interested in my boutique hotel acquisition. The Vieux Carre.”
I wondered if she had told him everything we discussed. “Yes. That’s true. The hotel is an important part of our organization. It’s in the Novikov territory. I’m sure you understand.” I didn’t want to insult the man with a back history of the city and the generations that had dominated the streets and corridors he had recently invaded .
I studied the man, trying to discern if any of Amara’ss features were in his face. Thank God I didn’t detect a single one. She must look like her mother. Although, I knew little about the woman who had given birth to her. She kept her own set of secrets.
“I understand that Dmitry isn’t happy I want it. That’s what I understand.” He rocked slightly in the leather chair. He had a Cheshire cat smile on his face. He was pleased that he had struck a nerve with the Novikovs. It was a mistake to do so.
“New Orleans has options for you, sir. You aren’t limited, but that particular piece of property. Well… you should know that if my father wants it, he’s going to get it. There are lots of ways he can make that happen. You should back away before there’s any more bad blood between you two.”
“Is that a threat?” His voice remained even. “You know where I come from, we speak plainly. Not in other languages.”
I gritted my teeth at his blatant reference to my Russian heritage.
“No, not at all. But since you’re new, you might not realize how things work. In Philadelphia, it’s possible you were the Dmitry Novikov of the city. If you wanted something, you could have it. That’s not true here.” I finished the bourbon and placed the empty glass on the corner of his desk. “The quicker you learn how the Novikov organization runs the city, the quicker you’ll be able to have a successful business here. Otherwise, you won’t last and I’m afraid you’ll be asked to leave. The original families respect the traditions that exist. They respect our wishes.” I couldn’t see where any of my words had affected him.
“But you didn’t come here for me. You came because of Amara. You like my daughter? ”
I didn’t like the way he had suddenly changed the direction of our conversation. “Yes. I do. We’ve had a good time together. She is smart. Interesting. Funny.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-eight.”
“A little older than her. Are you sure you’re not too old for her?” It was the second time today our age difference had been called into question.
“No. Definitely not too old, sir,” I responded. She was my mental equal, although I knew I could be her teacher in other ways.
“Do you have any children?” he pried. “Are you blessed as a father yet?”
I shook my head. “No, why?” I cleared my throat. The line of questioning was becoming uncomfortable.
“I want that hotel.” His eyes bore into mine.
This felt like whiplash. “I’m trying to tell you as nicely as I can, that’s not going to be possible.” There were a lot of things that would go wrong very quickly for Lorenzo if he tried to hold on to a property my father needed.
“You can have her.”
“Excuse me?” I balked for the first time since I had sat across from him. “Who?”
He pinched his lips together. “You like her. I’m sure I know what you were doing in the cabana. You’re attracted to her. She’s young and you can mold her however you like. You can have Amara in exchange for the hotel. And I think we could make a few other arrangements to benefit both families. It would be unique. A different kind of contract.”
I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. What the fuck? I didn’t want to barter a marriage. I didn’t come here to negotiate a trade. Hell, I’d charm him into letting me take her on a date, not spending a life together. I didn’t wait for him to ask. I grabbed the decanter and poured myself a second drink. I refilled Lorenzo’s in the process.
“What do you think? Tell your father I’d like to set it up. We can have a family dinner. I think that would be nice. I’ll host. Let’s say next week.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper, but I couldn’t focus.
“That is not how it works here. She’s not Russian.” My jaw was locked firmly in place. I didn’t know why that was the first fucking thing I said in response.
I paced in the office, letting the bourbon burn my throat and make every thought I had fuzzier than the last. There had to be a way to work this. Barter freedom for Amara. Let her choose me, not be forced on me. This fucking hotel. The damn Vieux Carre.
She didn’t want to be contractually obligated to marry any man. She had made it clear she already hated her future husband. I couldn’t let that man be me. She would hate me forever.
“Here.” He shoved the letter toward me. “Take it. It’s for your father.”
I’d never had nerves like this. The paper shook in my hand.
“I think you would be a good match for her. You’ll take care of her. There’s plenty of money. I saw how she looked at you. It’s a good match. No need for Dmitry and I to be rivals when we could be family. That’s how we Italians do it.” He winked at me as if he had figured out the golden rule to the mafia underworld and I was a mere underling.
I turned my head from side to side absently without thinking about what I was answering. “I can’t give this to my father. He won’t accept it. He won’t accept her. Or a marriage to an Italian mob family. It’s impossible.”
“You will give it to him.” He shoved his hands in my pockets. “It solves all our problems.”
“Why do you think that I would hand him something I don’t agree with?” I folded the paper and placed it in the front of my jacket. My second bourbon was empty. “I’m his Sovietnik,” I hissed. “I advise him . Not the other way around. This is not a good match.”
“If you don’t give the offer for the marriage contract to him, I’ll tell Amara that you rejected her. That you wanted nothing to do with her and that her Italian blood disgusted you.”
Mother fucker.
“You can’t.” What he was trying to do was more manipulative than my own father.
“I will. I’ll tell her you tore up the offer to marry her. That you spit in my face. Ciro will offer the same account.” He leaned across the desk. “Want to test me?”
“She’s just a girl,” I whispered.
It was true. A college graduate. Gorgeous. Smart. Sexy as sin. She had a decade to decide what to do with her life. It didn’t have to happen here in her father’s study.
“If you think she’s just a girl, why do you call? Why send flowers? Take her to dinner? Show up like this? You want her, Mr. Novikov.” He grinned. “I have something you want and there’s nothing wrong with admitting it. I find it helps in negotiations.”
I rubbed the back of my head. “I didn’t say she’s ordinary. I enjoy her company. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to look at rings. I think you’re forgetting there are family rules at play. Rules you are eager to break. I have a say. I’m the fucking Sovietnik!” I slammed my fist on the table. It was the bourbon surfacing. “I decide.”
He lifted his hands in the air, but I saw his eyes land on a brown button that almost blended in with the rest of his desk. I knew Ciro would be on the other end of it if he pressed it. Most likely with a gun to my head.
“You can decide. It can be Amara. Or not.” He shrugged. “I’ll find someone else who will take her. Make no mistake about that. I have a short list, but I could make it a rather long one. Would you like to hear who wants her?”
I felt a lump, hard and painful lodge in my throat. The idea of Lorenzo contracting her to another family made me want to put my fist through the wall. She didn’t belong to anyone. She was free. She was a goddamn goddess who should be treated like one. My stomach soured.
I glowered at him. “You’re a bastard, Lorenzo.”
“What happened to ‘sir’? You’re talking to your future father-in-law, son,” he added.
I only saw red after that. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. I couldn’t stand his voice. I charged out of the office and slammed into a maid in the hallway. Her dustpan clattered on the floor. I threw open the door.
I didn’t expect to see Amara leaning against the sports car .
“Hi.” She smiled. She had changed out of the bikini.
I moved past her, reaching for the door handle.
“Luka? What’s wrong? What happened?”
I slammed it closed. “I can’t talk. I have to get out of here.”
“Wait.” She pressed her hands against the driver’s door. “Have you been drinking? What’s wrong? My father said something. What? Just tell me. Or let me drive you home, and then you can tell me,” she pleaded. “Don’t go like this, Luka. What about Venice? Or the castle? I want to hear about the castle.”
But I couldn’t listen to her any more than I could to her father. I spun out of the circle drive and away from the Amato mansion. I had an impossible decision to make.