I hung up the call, unable to stop the smirk spreading across my face. Natalia's voice had that perfect breathless quality—the sound of a woman thoroughly claimed. I could practically picture her lying in bed, hair tousled, cheeks flushed as she tried to sound casual.
Luka glanced over from the driver's seat. He raised one eyebrow, a mix of amusement and fatherly pride that sent a conflicting chill and warmth through my veins.
"That was Nattie, wasn't it? You two sound... friendly."
The way he emphasized that last word made it clear what he was implying. The original Satori would have blushed and stammered. I met his gaze evenly, then looked out the window at the city skyline approaching on the horizon.
"We've come to an understanding."
Luka's laugh filled the car—a booming, chest-deep sound that seemed to come from somewhere genuine. It was the laugh of a man who'd never had to fake joy to manipulate someone. The kind of laugh I'd never had, in either of my lives.
