He’s on the phone when I walk in, giving orders to one of the men outside. He hangs up as soon as he sees me.
“Boss,” he says and stands up. “Everything’s covered. Extra patrols around the fence, no movement since last night.”
I nod, but that’s not why I’m here. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
He blinks. “Tell who?”
“Sima.” My tone hardens. “Why the hell wouldn’t you tell her I was fine? You let her sit up there all night thinking I was dead.”
Luka’s jaw tightens. He looks away, then back. “Because it wasn’t my call. You were out there bleeding. Until I heard yourvoice, I couldn’t say for sure you were fine. I wasn’t about to give her false hope.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snap. “You could’ve said something.”
“I did,” he shoots back. “I told her to go upstairs and stay out of the way. That’s all she needed to do.”
“She was scared.” I step closer until I’m right in front of him. “She needed to hear someone say I was alive.That’swhat she fucking needed. And you couldn’t even give her that.”
He stiffens. His shoulders square, but I see the flicker of unease in his eyes.
His nose is still crooked from the last time I lost my temper with him, when he let Sima escape back at the penthouse. He remembers. I can tell that he does.
But clearly, he does not remember well enough.
“You don’t talk to her like that again.” My voice drops lower, but the edge stays sharp. “Ever. Understood?”
The air between us tightens. My stance says everything I don’t need to spell out. If he crosses that line again, I’ll finish what I started.
Even so, Luka doesn’t back down. He stays straight, hands at his sides, and meets my gaze head-on. There’s fear there, sure, but also something steadier. Defiance, with a strange sort of loyalty twisted up with it.
I don’t give a shit if he disagrees, though. Not when it comes to her.
I think of Sima again, curled up on the bed last night, her face streaked with tears. She’d been so terrified she could barely breathe. That image hasn’t left me.
When I step back, Luka finally exhales.
“Got it.” He shrugs. “Sorry if I made trouble for you. I didn’t think it mattered.”
My brow knits. “Why wouldn’t it have mattered?”
“She’s a Danilo,” he explains. “She’s only here until she has the baby, right? Then you can finally get rid of her.”
Luka doesn’t usually talk like that. Not to me, and definitely not about her. He’s a good solider, loyal and respectful, never a word out of line.
Until now.
My voice drops. “What did you just say?”
He blinks. He must realize he’s crossed a line. “I just meant—she’s one of them. You can’t trust?—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “She’s not one of them. Not anymore.”
He frowns. “She’s still a Danilo by blood.”
I step closer. This time, my shadow looms over Luka’s body. “She’s my wife,” I snarl. “She’s married tome.Her name is Gubarev now. That’s my name, not Nikolai’s. So any disrespect that comes to her is disrespect that comes to me.”
Luka’s eyes narrow. “You forget who her father is,” he says. “Nikolai Danilo murdered my father when I was still a kid. I saw it happen. A stupid corner dispute, and he put a bullet in him like it was nothing.”
“I know that.”
