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“Why are you keeping me here Luka? I don’t understand. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now I have nothing to do with Tony.”
“The fact thatAntoniowas in your house and cozied up to your mother—you should be grateful you are here,” he snaps.
“That doesn’t answer why I’m here.”
Luka moves his gaze to a nearby building, staring far off.
“I need to check on my mom,” I say after the silence between us stretches too long.
“She is safe,” he replies, and I latch on to that.
“She is? Did you see her? Does she know about Tony?”
Luka shakes his head. “We know she filed a Missing Person’s report and appears to be safe. I’ve had men watching your mom’s house for signs of Antonio, but he hasn’t been around.”
My mouth hangs open at him, offering me the information I desperately need and crave. His voice is soft and empathetic, wrapping me in comfort; gratitude washes over me, even if only for a moment.
A tear tracks down my cheek, and I smack it away. “I need to speak to her. She has depression, and she can have a hard time. She did after my dad passed. I need to let her know I’m okay.”
Several more tears escape, and I let my eyes drift up to meet his. His nostrils flare, and I sense him about to shut me down.
“I won’t say anything to her about where I am,” I say, rushing the words out before he can say no.
He leans forward, almost unwillingly, and I see it in his eyes the minute he decides. He stands, his deep eyes trailing after another of my tears. His hand floats forward, lifting to my cheek, but he stops, choosing to tuck it in his pants pocket instead.
“I’ll have Nik set up a line in my office.”
He sidesteps the chair and saunters off back inside. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and a small ache blooms, missing his almost-touch.
New York’s air isn’t the only thing that’s changing.
Chapter24
Luka
If my father were here, he’d be ashamed of me and who I’ve become because of a damn woman. I had no plans to let Kate contact her mother. But the fear on her face and the tears in her eyes struck a warm chord, and I had a moment of weakness.
I march to my home office and slam the door. The oak desk is illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting shadows over the room. My father’s worn leather armchair sits by the window between it and the fireplace. It was one of the items I removed from my childhood home for the new penthouse.
The house was too large and cold. Most of the rooms never saw human traffic, and the whole house radiated an uninviting feeling. The exception was his office. It was well worn; many days and nights meeting with his men, other bosses, and conducting business had made it brim with work. I was drawn to it, most likely because I was drawn to my father. His power stifled any father-son relationship, but he enjoyed having me as his protégé. From a young age, I learned emotional decision-making led to costly mistakes, or, in my father’s case with me, unwanted commitments.
I trace my fingers along the smooth desk and plop down in the leather swivel armchair. I shuffle aside and flip through some of the paperwork left out. I don’t spend time in this office; I prefer to be in my business offices, outside the penthouse. Very few of my men have set foot inside my home, let alone this office.
My fingers wrap around the desk phone, and I dial Nik. The sound of ringing muddles the office’s silence until his deep voice breaks through.
“Yes, Boss.” His voice is strained with discomfort. A high-pitched buzz pulses in the background, and a low, steady hum reverberates through the phone.
“Nikolai, what is that noise?”
“Getting a new tattoo, Boss!” he answers, shouting over the background noise.
I peek at my watch, noting the time. “Do you ever work?” I jest, knowing the answer. That is one area I do not need to worry about when it comes to Nik. He drops all that he is juggling to stand by my side. “Finish up and come to the penthouse. I need an untraceable line set up with a delay for Kate to contact her mom.”
A chuckle rolls on the other side of the phone. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be over.”
“All right,when she comes to make the call, have her use this phone.” Nik drops a smartphone on my desk. “I had Anya set it up. It is one hundred percent untraceable.”
“Good.” I lean back in my chair, massaging the bridge of my nose.
