Heat detonated under my skin. “What kind of man,” I said quietly, so the concierge wouldn’t hear, “gets a girl so wound up she can’t see straight, then leaves her cold in bed?”
He laughed, sharp and bright as frost. “Ah, Alex.” He turned, his mouth grazing my ear. “You want to punish me?”
I almost said yes. I almost said,Get upstairs right now and fix what you did to my nerves.
Instead, I bit it back, teeth grinding behind a smile that didn’t quite hold.
“The car is outside,” he repeated, softer this time.
He rested his palm at the small of my back—pressure precise, firm, and territorial. I hated how quickly my body went pliant at the contact, my knees melting so he barely had to steer. I tried to summon a protest, some barb about personal space, but every word in my head evaporated at the heat of his hand.
“The heater’s on. And I brought you a coffee,” he said, the words almost tender if not for the undertow of command. He guided me through the revolving doors and out into the slap of February wind. The city was a cacophony of car horns and exhaust, the sky an unbroken bruise.
His black sedan idled at the curb, exhaust curling in pale ribbons. He opened the back door and gestured for me to get in. The interior was oven-warm. The scent of leather and coffee hit before the door closed, sealing me inside. As he circled thecar, I noticed the disposable coffee cup waiting for me in the cup holder.
He buckled himself into the driver’s seat, checked the mirror, and caught my eye. “It’s not poisoned,” he said, deadpan. “Drink your coffee,mila. You’ll need it.”
I wrapped both hands around the cup, inhaling the dark, bitter steam. Strong black coffee—no milk, no sugar. Just a smooth slash of caffeine.
Luka watched me in the rearview.
I sipped without breaking his gaze. The coffee burned, but I welcomed it. The sensation was sharp and clean—a punishment and a reward.
His mouth flicked—a flash, then gone. He signaled and nosed us into traffic, one hand steady on the wheel.
We slid through London’s morning pulse—construction scaffolds and cranes, office workers huddled into coats, breath ghosting white as they clutched paper cups and hurried for doors. I drank the coffee, feeling it scald away the last vestiges of sleep, and watched Luka’s eyes hunting in the mirror. Always calculating, always several moves ahead.
“Why do you call me ‘mila’?”
He didn’t look back. “Would you prefer Alexandra?”
A smile, more sneer than grin, tugged at my mouth. “How do you know my name?” I set the cup down. “No one calls me Alexandra. Not even my mother. I only use Alex. Even on the app.”
He met my gaze in the mirror—sideways, wolfish. “I know many things.”
I snorted. “Pretty resourceful for a rideshare driver. No offense.”
That earned a real laugh—like gravel snapping in a fire. “Oh, no,mila. The driving is for entertainment. If I did it to pay rent, I’d be living in a cardboard box.” He punched through ayellow light, the acceleration pressing me back into the butter-soft leather.
“So, what’s your actual job then?”
He traced his thumb over the gearshift, almost absentmindedly. “Cybersecurity.”
I let that wind through my head, tracking the flex of his hands. “That sounds vague.”
He grinned. “It’s meant to.”
I watched the city rocket by, glass towers giving way to brick and Victorian cornices. The Thames slid past in a blur, flashing silver beneath a bridge choked with a haze of headlights. I tried to picture this man hunched over a keyboard, blue light reflecting in his eyes.
Tried and failed. It was much easier to imagine him as an interrogator. Or an assassin. Not that I’d mind being on the receiving end—if it were him. Of interrogation, that is. Preferably not assassination. Torture maybe?—
“Did you obey me?”
Instant nausea. I swirled the coffee, studying the lid like it held answers. “Obey you?” I said, aiming for glib. “What are you, my father?”
Luka’s smile in the mirror was sharp with delight. “Your father, James? No,mila.” A pause. “But I’d be fine with you calling me ‘daddy’ if you’re into that.”
My heart slammed. “How do you know my dad’s name?”