Chapter 31
Thirty-One
LUKA
I stepped back. The last time I had seen Amara work a business meeting she stole the Vieux Carre from my father. This should be interesting. I gave her a minute to straighten her suit jacket into place. It was a shame she had all her clothes on again. I had to keep reminding myself we had time together. There would be more afternoons like this. In this exact spot. Our secret office.
“Oh shit.” Her eyes widened. She looked alarmed.
“What’s wrong? What is it?”
“Oh my God. I forgot. Oh shit. Enzo is with me.”
“He is?” I was confused.
“Yes. He’s in the car. He drove me over. If you look over the side, you can see where he’s parked. See? Right there. He’s been waiting down there while we’re working on stress relief, as you call it.” She pointed to the lone car next to the sidewalk. “He wanted to talk to me about Katya.” She stopped.
“And what did he say?” I hadn’t expected this curveball today.
“He said enough to change my mind. I agreed to help them.”
My eyebrows rose. I’d been trying for two days to get her to launch a plan to help my sister. “What did he say to convince you?” I asked.
“I’m not some kind of monster. I don’t want anything to happen to him, or your sister. Isn’t that enough?” She posed the question.
“It is. It’s plenty of reason to get them out of the country. I’m just glad we’re on the same page. Things are always better if we’re on the same page”
“We are. I’m not sure how we’re going to do it. The Petrovs have a tight rein these days. They’ve been grooming your brother-in-law to take over the steak empire.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to be pretty whatever we do.”
“It doesn’t have to be pretty. It only has to work.”
“I agree.” She walked to another corner of the open floor. “Which corner office do you want?”
“I do like the sunsets,” I answered. “How about the west corner? You take the east?”
Amara smiled. “And that room leaves the secret room in the middle.”
I laughed. “You agree we the plans I have for it?”
“I completely agree.”
Her phone dinged. “Hold on. That’s Enzo.” She stopped to respond to a message from him.
“Why don’t you have him come up?” I suggested. “Maybe we could call Katya. We could at least talk together. I noticed Ciro wasn’t lurking today. That’s a nice change.”
“He doesn’t lurk,” she retorted. “He is a bodyguard. Not a lurker.”
“Same.”
“He’s out for a while. Doing some security work. It’s his job.”
“I thought he just liked to follow you everywhere.” My teasing was beginning to make me sound like a dick. “Sorry.” I walked it back.
“I’m hoping some day you two kiss and make up.” She batted her eyes.
“That is unlikely.”
“I thought you would at least be happy he agreed to remove the tracker.”
“He did a shitty job. That mark is going to leave a scar.” I didn’t like the idea of Ciro taking a knife to any part of her body.
“I have plenty of other scars. You’re just upset you can see this one.”
She texted Enzo. “Oh shit. He can’t get up here without the key.” She handed me the glass of champagne. “I’ll ride down and bring him back up to this floor with me.”
“I can go,” I offered. “Why don’t you stay and take in the space? Make plans for how you want the conference room to look. Matching his and hers executive chairs sound good to me.”
“No. Let me just talk to him for a second. Okay?” She walked toward the elevator bay. I followed her, pressing the button for her. The doors opened. “I’ll be right back.”
I leaned toward her, sliding both hands around her waist. She tilted her lips upward.
“We’re having dinner at my place tonight,” I explained between kisses.
“Your place? Or with your mother?” she questioned. “I might need to take a raincheck on dining with Anna.”
I chuckled. “No. The new place. You’ll see. Anna is not on the guest list.”
“You’ve already moved out of the Vieux Carre?” she questioned.
“I have. I thought it would be nice to have something permanent in the city. A place for you, love.”
I ran my thumb along her jawline. It was hard to let her walk in the elevator, even if it was only for five minutes. My heart pounded in my chest.
“For me?” She blinked.
“Don’t argue about what’s ahead. Get Enzo and then we’ll figure out the rest,” I instructed her.
“Luka.” She wiggled away from me. “I’ll be right back.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Okay. I’ll get some of the plans out. We can go over them together after our meeting with Enzo.”
The doors closed and I heard the engine roar as the elevator carriage descended. I walked over to the canisters where the architect plans were rolled together and stored. I unfurled the first set and spread them out on a sheet of plywood balanced on top of a pair of sawhorses. I used my phone to anchor one sign and keep it from curling up. I grabbed a discarded brick and laid it on the opposite corner.
I tried to predict what Amara would think of the plans. Would she like the layout? How many changes would she make? Thinking about what she had done at the Vieux Carre, I knew it was going to be extensive. Ridiculously expensive. An over the top budget. Fuck. She might spend more than we made the first quarter just getting the offices the way she wanted.
I laughed. It would be worth it. To see her happy. To see her thrive here. To finally be on the same side. To take control of the city. Together.
I wanted to see the look on their faces when they realized what we had done. All the families that had told us what we could and couldn’t do. My father’s friends. My mother’s circle. They needed to know that the old guard wasn’t in place anymore. Amara and I would have a new way of doing things. Two mafia families from different cultures and different organizations could tear down the barriers. We were going to walk in the sun together.
It was long past time that New Orleans evolved. I took a giant breath. This was exactly what I wanted to talk to Amara about at dinner tonight. Not to mention, I wanted her to see the new place. After spending two days at her compound, I was ready for us to be together, but I refused to live under a roof that used to be Lorenzo Amato’s. We needed a fresh start.
I checked my watch. How long had she been gone? Where were she and Enzo?
I glanced at the elevator. It was quiet. I walked to the doors, leaning my ear closer. I didn’t hear a single gear turn. There was no movement on the other side of the large door.
I sent her a text.
The champagne is getting warm. Where are you?
I stared at the blank screen. There were no blinking dots. There was no response from her after another minute. I scowled at the phone, walking through the site to see if the reception was shitty. I had full bars. That wasn’t it. The message had been delivered.
It had been close to ten minutes since she’d ridden the elevator to retrieve Enzo. Was the key stuck? Had she misplaced it when she dressed hastily?
I called her, waiting for her voice to tell me to have more patience. She would be up shortly. I didn’t expect it to go straight to voicemail. What kind of a business call was more important than this? I was anxious, but I didn’t know how she could put us on the backburner. Not when everything was at stake.
It was in that moment. That one second I gasped for air. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Something was wrong.
It hit the elevator button repeatedly. My heart hammered in my chest. As soon as the doors opened, I ran inside, pressing the lower level as many times as I could. It didn’t make things happen faster. Nothing was fast enough. The doors were in slow motion. Everything felt like fucking slow motion.
As soon as I landed on the first floor, I pried the doors and squeezed through. I ran through the lobby, bursting through the revolving carousel. The sun blared overhead. I searched the sidewalk, looking right and then left for Amara. I scanned the curb for where she had pointed out Enzo’s car. The street was empty.
He was gone and so was Amara.