“Then you know my mother never recovered.” He takes another deep breath. His hands curl into fists, but they stay at his sides. “Two weeks later, she hanged herself. So when I say the Danilos wiped out my whole family, I mean it. Because that’s exactly what they did.”
His tone is calm, but it’s the kind of calm that comes from holding back too much for too long. His eyes are sharp, focused on me, but I can see the grief under the anger.
It’s the only reason I’m not reaching for my gun yet. Disrespect is one thing, but grief—I know grief. It guts you from the inside out. No matter how badly you want to stay true to your principles, grief will take priority. Over anything.
If anyone understands that, it’s me.
Luka shifts his weight forward. He isn’t challenging me, but he isn’t done making his point yet. “You might see Sima as different, but I don’t,” he grits. “She’s a Danilo. That blood doesn’t wash off. You can trust her if you want to, but I won’t.”
He’s not raising his voice, or pushing me. But the line is there. He’s standing his ground, even knowing how close he’s skating to danger.
I watch him in silence. He’s loyal, I know that. He’d die for me. But that loyalty is fighting with the hate he’s carried his whole life. And I can’t change what the Danilos took from him.
Just like I can’t change what they took from me.
“You hate her family,” I say. “I get it. You lost more than anyone.”
I step closer, put a hand on his shoulder. Luka flinches like he’s expecting me to change up his nose’s angle again. When my fingers don’t curl into a punch, he relaxes minutely under my grip.
“But Sima isn’t her father,” I continue. “She’s not part of that family anymore. She hasn’t been one of them in a long time. I will not hear her name spoken with Nikolai’s. And I sure as shit won’t see her treated like the enemy under her own roof.”
“I get that.” Luka’s jaw tightens. “But?—”
“But nothing.” I stare him down. “Sima is the soon-to-be mother of my child. You will treat her with the respect due apakhan’s wife. No matter how you feel about her personally, she’s your queen, and I expect you to act accordingly.”
Luka doesn’t move, but his eyes flicker. He understands what that means. It’s not just about her. It’s about hierarchy and power. Lines that can’t be crossed.
But it is about her, too. Because I’ve seen how heartbroken she was last night. And I’ve seen how miserable she is here. If my men have any part in that, if they’ve been treating her like anything less than she deserves?—
Anger coils deep inside me at the thought. I keep it at bay, but the burn stays there, at the base of my throat.
“You’re one of my most trusted men.” I squeeze his shoulder once, let him know I mean it. “You’ve been with me through more than most. I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate that.”
“Never.” He shakes his head quickly.
“But if you ever speak about my wife with anything less than respect again, I will end you myself.” My grip turns to steel. “I mean it, Luka. I’d hate to lose you. So don’t make me choose between Sima and you. You won’t like the outcome.”
His lips are pressed into a tight line. For a second, I wonder if I just tipped the scales in favor of another betrayal. From my inner circle, no less.
But Luka’s loyalty to me still seems sincere. Even now, he’s not glaring at me with hatred. If he felt anything like that, it’d be obvious. He’s always been a shit liar. That’s what got him into this mess to begin with. If he’s managed to improve this much over the course of our short conversation, then I’ll clap as I bleed out.
“Make sure the rest of the men understand the same thing,” I add. “If anyone talks about her out of turn, they answer to me.”
Luka’s brow knits in disagreement. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I lift a hand before the first word comes out.
“Think long and hard about what you say next. Because once you say it, you can’t take it back. And if you cross that line, Luka, it’ll be the last time you ever do.”
He nods once, jaw tight. Whatever he was about to say dies right there.
“Good choice,” I say. “Now get back to work.”
Luka exhales and turns toward the monitors, his shoulders stiff. The tension rolls off him in waves.
I watch him for a moment longer to make sure the message landed. That there aren’t any doubts left about what I expect of him and everyone else here.
Then I walk out and shut the door behind me.
32
