Chapter 12
Twelve
LUKA
FIVE YEARS AGO
M y eyes burned. My temples throbbed. The hangover from the wedding and lack of sleep had taken hold of my body.
The last suitcase was in the back of the black SUV. My mother and Katya had pleaded one time too many for me to stay a few extra days I gave them each a hug and shook my father’s hand. There was a formal post-wedding breakfast at the Petrovs’ house this morning. The caterers had begun packing up the china and crystal. The rental company arrived to dismantle the dancefloor and the tents. The magic from the wedding was erased and folded into trunks and moving trucks.
It was time for me to leave. I was as much an accessory in the wedding as the bouquets.
“Call when you get to Paris,” my father instructed. We had gathered together in the driveway. An unusual display of family sentimentality. Weddings and funerals had lasting effects on families.
“I will,” I answered.
Katya wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed hard. I peeled her tiny body away. “I’m glad I was able to be here for the wedding.” I kissed her on top of the head. “You should go be with Andrey and get ready for your honeymoon.”
“I’d rather go with you,” she whispered.
She was scared. There wasn’t anything to do now. Her future was with Andrey. She had to start to rely on him. She could have a partnership with him if she would only try. I wasn’t going to be much help an ocean away from the family.
“We should get going, sir,” the driver called across the car.
“But it’s late,” Katya argued. “Papa, he could go in the morning.” Her head whipped around to beg our father to change his mind. “Why take such a late flight?”
“No. The flight is booked. No changes.” My father was immovable. He had been on edge in the few days I had returned. We spoke little about business, only that he wanted an update on the fire and if there had been any disruptions in the training schedule.
What mattered most was that we always had another soldier ready to take the next assignment. A soldier who was fully trained and loyal to the Novikov name. The longer I delayed my return to France, the more he worried there was a hold-up in the production of viable Bratva soldiers.
“Have fun in Tahiti.” I squeezed Katya’s shoulder. “Try to relax and enjoy the sun. It’s beautiful there. You’ll have a great honeymoon. Just give it a try. Okay?”
“Please,” she whispered, tugging my hand so neither our parents could see. “I can’t do this without you, Luka. I don’t want to.”
“You can and you will. You are a Novikov.”
Last night she was dazzling. Today, the reality had set in on what was before her and misery coated her face.
I ducked into the back of the SUV. The cool leather was a relief. I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t watch Katya cry as we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t want to think about what awaited her when she returned to the Petrov home. I wanted to believe Andrey loved her. At least enough to try to make her happy. Maybe something good could come from the union my father had chosen for her.
I asked my driver to make a detour on the way to the airport. I wasn’t going to Marguerite’s this time.
“Stop. Stop right here,” I ordered. I didn’t want him to drive too close to the gated entrance. I knew where the security cameras’ line of sight ended. Amara had taught me her secrets to sneaking in and out of the compound undetected by Ciro and Joey.
“Are you going in, sir?” he asked.
“No,” I snapped. I peered through the window and then through the bars of the fence surrounding the Amato compound.
All it would take was for me to stroll up to the gate and I’d be buzzed in. I could walk to the front door and demand I see Amara. I closed my eyes. She was only on the other side of the door. Close enough for me to alter our entire worlds.
But it wasn’t possible. I had made a deal. Exchanged her father’s life for her safety and protection. If I broke my word, I could no longer keep her safe. Lorenzo had to pay for what he had done to Uncle Ivan. There was no other way. Maksim and Nikoli were prepared to carry out the plan under my orders. Knocking on the door would eviscerate the advantage I had.
“Should we go, sir?”
“No.”
I stared at the door, willing it to open. Calling out to her to walk out into the sun. Just one more time. One more glimpse.
I wasn’t sure how long the driver and I sat there. Long enough for me to realize she wasn’t going to appear. There was no salve for this kind of torment. I had to let her go so I could save her.
That’s what I did.
“Drive, Armand. Just drive.”