He poured us each a glass of red wine to go along with our filet mignon.
“Your parents will be calling you soon,” he said, “so we need to discuss the rules.”
I’d been turning the base of the wine glass, but paused. “They’ll be calling? How do you know that?”
His expression stayed flat, giving nothing away. “You’ll put the call on speaker, so I can hear everything said.” The table groaned as he leaned his elbows on it. “You can tell them you’ve met someone, but you don’t give them my name. If you try to ask for help, or get them involved in any way, I’ll revoke your privileges. That means you go back to naked and chained to the bed.”
It reminded me how tired I was from last night, both physically and mentally. I leaned forward on my elbows as well. “I’m not going to try to escape, for my safety and theirs.” The words burned as fire in my throat. “You and your father made it perfectly clear what the consequences are if I disobey.”
He winced. Luka actually winced at how I’d lumped him together with his father. “I didn’t want that to happen.”
“Which part? Where you humiliated me, or where my life was threatened?”
He scowled. “All of it.”
“Why? You don’t give a damn about—”
He slammed his fist loudly against the tabletop and the place settings jumped. Wine sloshed in my glass, and I clamped a hand over my lips to mute my sound of surprise.
“I don’t, huh?” he demanded. “You have no idea what I fucking gave up for you.”
What the hell was he talking about? “Oh? Okay, then tell me.”
“No.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You get how trust works, right? That it’s a two-way street?”
He exhaled loudly and his eyes turned stormy. “I don’t want the life my father lives. I worked hard and earned my degree, and then I did it all over again for my master’s.” Luka glanced away and grumbled under his breath. “Not that my father doesn’t work hard. He has to, to stay ahead of the Russians.”
Part of me wanted to dig into his statement, but I was smart enough not to ask. It was doubtful he’d tell me what kind of business his family was really in, and it was probably better if I just assumed the worst. I didn’t need the dirty details, so instead I evaluated his words critically. Was he saying he didn’t want to be a part of the organized crime his father was involved in?
“I’ve been upfront with him,” he continued. “Vasilije’s like my father, and he’s fucking eager to help out with that side of the Markovic business.” Luka’s voice dripped with disdain.
There was a long pause, prompting me. “So you’re trying to protect Vasilije?”
Luka gave a short, ironic laugh. “No, if he wants to get into that shit, he will. My brother’s an asshole. Just like my father, remember?” He took a quick sip of his wine. “When Vasilije got busted, it was for weed. It mellows Vasilije out and, seriously, that’s a good thing. Most of the time he’s a psychotic. He’s a perfect fit to step up.”
I failed to understand. “Then, what’s the issue?”
“All that money needs to be kept track of. Why have an outsider cook the books when I can keep all our dirty secrets within the family?”
The realization washed through me and a sharp pang stabbed inward as I thought about Luka’s situation. “You got your degree to try to escape, and instead it made you more valuable to your father.”
He shook his head. “To my uncle. He’s the one my father answers to. I’ve been working legit for them up until now.”
My heart hurried along with concern. “Until now? What changed?”
“My father has leverage.”
I gripped the edge of the table, knowing the truth already, but I needed to hear him confirm it. “I’m the leverage.”
His dark eyes were empty, and for the first time, I noticed the faint lines at the corners. He was hiding the emotion locked inside him. He spoke softly, almost as if defending himself. “I had to make a deal.”
Which had been to save my life, I was sure of it. He was trapped just as much as I was. “Why’d you do it?”
His lips turned down into a scowl, and he glared my direction. “He was going to have you killed.”
“I understand, but I’m asking why you made the deal. He wasn’t threatening your life.”
There was no label to put to the emotion on his face, but it made my heart ache. While I tried to figure it out, the expression faded and returned to his emotionless mask. “I agreed to it because of what I did to you. I was the one who made the mistake. You shouldn’t have to pay for it with your life.”