Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
A mara
“Again.” My father nodded. He should have been a ballet instructor. His voice was terse and the way he tapped the table it was as if he was rapping a walking cane on the barre. Whack. Tap. Whack. Tap. It was an analogy he would have hated, no matter how accurate it was.
“We’ve been doing this for hours.” I winced as soon as I realized how whiny the statement was. He didn’t tolerate objections. Especially, not in the form of weakness. I was his daughter, which meant I had to work twice as hard as if I had been his son. I had to prove my worthiness. Demonstrate my critical thinking. Outsmart the other men in the room. Still be beautiful, feminine, and graceful. I could have nothing but wins on the scoreboard. I couldn’t afford to screw up even once. It was never going to be simple to gain his trust.
Tammy, the housekeeper, had just entered my father’s office with a tray for lunch. I was supposed to be grateful for the salad. Yet, another part of the burden no son would have to deal with. I had to fit in the tiniest of cocktail dresses.
“Afraid your tan is fading?” His eyes narrowed. I hated that scowl as much as I hated the contempt in his voice. I didn’t have time to lounge by the pool anymore. All I did was study reports and map out strategies. The latest, of course, was how best to use the tunnels beneath the Vieux Carre to our benefit.
Before I could snap at the insult, he began coughing.
“Papa, are you okay?” I was slow to ask. He hated it whenever I did.
He waved me off. “Fine. Fine. Just need more water.” We both searched for a pitcher and glasses. Tammy had brought food without beverages. He continued to struggle with the cough. His face was turning red.
“I’ll run to the kitchen,” I offered. “I’ll be right back.” I left him doubled over while I raced through the house. Where in the hell was everyone?
Some days were better than others. I didn’t see how his medication helped, although I wasn’t allowed to know what was in the brown pill bottles. The labels had been stripped. The lids were marked with red, yellow, or blue dots. I hadn’t decoded the colors yet. He didn’t share with me what his diagnosis was. I was denied access to his doctor. For now, I was the fledging business protégé. That was all. He didn’t consider that as his daughter I should know what was wrong with him. He kept me in the dark.
I couldn’t believe it when I walked into an empty kitchen. I grumbled. I retrieved a bottle of water from the beverage fridge and sprinted back to his office.
“Here, take this.” I twisted off the cap and shoved it in his hands. “It’s not too cold.” I knew he would find something to disagree about.
My father didn’t say thank you, but he drank. After a few minutes, the coughing subsided.
“Where were we?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. I thought he might be trying to stretch to get more air in his lungs. Why wouldn’t he just tell me what was going on?
“Maybe we should take a break,” I suggested. I stopped short of telling him to go to his room to lie down.
His eyebrows furled again. “Why?”
“Papa—” I started to push him, but his glare was icy. I exhaled. “I think I’m going to take a field trip. I’ll get a lot farther in this process if I’m out of the house for a while. I’m not getting anywhere here.”
“Where are you going?” he barked.
“How am I supposed to develop a plan for something I’ve never actually seen in person? I’ll understand the Vieux Carre’s tunnel system if I see it first-hand. I’m going to the hotel. This will be easier there.”
“I see.” His voice quieted.
“Does that mean you want to go with me?” I stood next to the table. It was scattered with blueprints. There was a short checklist I had made of possible ways to increase revenue through the use of the tunnels. I knew I hadn’t covered half of our options.
He shook his head. “You go. I want your report when you get back. Take Ciro with you. ”
I sighed. “I always do.” I plastered a fake smile on my face. “And you’ll rest while I’m gone?”
He huffed. I couldn’t force him to do anything, but if I was the one to break up the meeting, maybe he’d head upstairs for a couple of hours.
“I’ll see you at dinner, then.” I strolled out of his office. He didn’t argue. It was the only indication he was okay with my abrupt interruption. Only, he was too stubborn to admit it.
Ciro parked in front of the hotel. He made me wait until he cleared the lobby before I was allowed inside.
“There’s no one here.” I strolled in behind him. “We haven’t started renovations.” The lobby was dark. It had only been two weeks since we had won the bank auction. Weeks that the Amatos had captured the most valuable piece of real estate in the city. The ripple effect was still being felt.
Absently, I stroked the necklace, hanging around my neck. I didn’t know how many times a day I touched it. I knew that when I did, I felt an uneasiness as if it was a fresh wound all over again. It was the only connection to Luka I had. It was proof that there was something tangible between us. Although, the more days that passed between the last time I saw him, I began to doubt myself. Doubt the memories. Sometimes at night I would turn the pearl over and read the inscription Luka had chosen: dusha moya .
When I stepped inside the hotel, I worried the landmark would be a more permanent reminder. One that highlighted the pain. The deep fracture created by our fathers. The mistakes and the sins we had committed. My decision to bid on the building. It was our ultimate undoing, one I was complicit in .
“Do you know how to access the tunnels?” I asked Ciro. I wanted a minute alone. I felt his eyes on me constantly. I needed a second to breathe.
“The only way down there is by elevator,” he replied.
My fingers curled by my sides. “Right, do you know if that elevator is operating?”
“I’m familiar with the elevator system.”
“That’s something,” I snapped. I closed my eyes. It was becoming easier to bark orders. “I’m sorry. Can you make sure we can walk the tunnels?”
He nodded, unfazed by my demeanor. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back after I check out the settings in the electrical room. I think I can get it running.”
“Thank you.”
I knew there was no other way to the lowest level of the hotel. Not a safe one at least. I waited while Ciro fumbled with the controls down the hall.
I glanced up at the chandelier overhead. The crystals were caked in dust. They barely glimmered. I rubbed my shoulders. The hotel felt haunted, but I knew it wasn’t a ghost that made me shiver. It was the chill of what this meant. My training. My acceptance of this life. Becoming my father’s protégé. Turning down Luka.
I trembled. It was too late to go back now. He was gone. He had become untouchable. As haunting as this damn hotel. There was no way for him to know I couldn’t sleep. I drank at Marguerite’s during the day. Huge goblets of red wine. I couldn’t tell him how big my regret was for not taking the first plane ticket he offered to Bali. I should have accepted all the tickets. Did it matter if we ended up in Scottsdale, Arizona, or Portland, Maine? We would have been together. We could have left this behind us.
I couldn’t rewrite history, but I learned there was something I could do. Something that pushed Luka into the farthest corner of my mind, and only released when I felt the pearl between my fingers. I could work. I could study under the mob boss. I could take advantage of my front-row access. Soak up his knowledge. Charm his contacts. I could become the smartest, richest, and most admired woman in New Orleans.
I would be the one to make the acquisition of the Vieux Carre worth the suffering it caused Luka.
“Okay. I’ve got the lower-level access ready,” Ciro announced. “We can go down to the tunnels now.” I jumped when he walked briskly from the dark hallway. I had lingered too long thinking about Luka.
“Great.” I smiled.
I brushed over the pendant once more. Maybe one day Luka would know what I had done. Maybe one day he would know it was for him. Maybe there was a way we could heal our families. Make the changes no one else could. Modernize the organizations. Right now, he had to pay his penance and I had to pay mine.
It was hard to imagine a time when I’d ever be able to tell him. I knew he had flown home for Katya’s wedding. His picture was posted everywhere in the wedding snaps. I stopped looking at my phone for a week, just to avoid seeing his eyes in someone else’s snap story. It didn’t keep me from waiting for him to call, but I never heard from him. Not a text. Not a DM. Nothing. Neither my father nor I received an invite to the ceremony or the reception. It was obvious that the Amatos were sending a clear signal. There was no way it could be muddled. We weren’t welcome. The damage was done.
I didn’t sleep the night of the wedding. I thought Luka would show up in a red sports car and try to convince me to leave one more time. That didn’t happen either.
It was over. He was gone.
The elevator door closed, and I descended beneath the street. Absorbed by the darkness and the cold. Shielded from the sunlight and plunged into the damp earthy scent of the tunnels. For now, I knew this was where I belonged.