Lucas – 8. chapter

Lucia couldn’t find a parking spot that morning. The narrow streets around the business center where they had their offices were always difficult. She never parked in the reserved spots in the underground garage. There were cameras there, and more importantly, that’s where all her colleagues parked. There was no chance someone wouldn’t see her there sooner or later. So she arrived at the office after Lucas.

She slipped off her jacket and draped it over the back of her chair. She usually greeted him around that time, but now she couldn’t decide whether to address him formally or not. So she skipped it and only called toward his door.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” came the reply, so she went straight to the kitchenette. On the way back, she left one cup on her own desk and carried the other to him. He didn’t acknowledge her, not even with a glance. He was focused on his monitor. Basically, that suited her. Probably. She returned to her desk and turned on her computer.

Before long, he appeared in her doorway.

“I’m going downstairs for coffee. If anyone needs anything, call me.”

He didn’t wait for her okay and left.

He was gone for an hour, maybe two. She didn’t keep track. She tried to focus on work. So when he walked past her, she only gave him a quick look. He went into his office and called out.

“Grab your things. You’re coming with me.”

He occasionally took her to meetings outside the office, so the request didn’t surprise her. She stood up immediately.

“Where?” she asked.

She picked up her jacket and, when no answer came, leaned into his doorway. He was lifting his phone to his ear, so she stepped back and started tossing things into her bag. Lucas stopped beside her, saying something to the person on the other end, waved for her to follow him, and headed out. Something about him felt off, like he was suppressing anger. She ignored it, grabbed her notebook and pen, and caught up with him in the hallway.

He called the elevator and kept switching the phone from one ear to the other, depending on which arm he was trying to get into his jacket.

Elevator. Garage. Car. As always, he opened her door and closed it once she got in. He walked around, sat down, fastened his seatbelt, and started the engine. They drove out of the garage. When he still hadn’t ended the call and she realized someone on the other end was reading a contract while Lucas dictated corrections, it became clear this call would take a while. And yes, he was angry. His voice was a few tones lower than usual, his sentences clipped and precise, and unlike his natural self, there was a stone face and no witty aside. As always, when his pressure was through the roof but he kept his dignity. Whatever. She leaned back comfortably into the seat, rested her head against it, and absentmindedly watched late-morning Bratislava blur past the windows.

Near the castle, he slowed down. A wealthy district. Family villas, the occasional embassy, and corporate residences too. They’d had meetings around here before. He turned into the driveway of one of the houses and entered a garage.

They both got out. He opened the door leading upstairs into the living areas. Still on the phone. She assumed they were visiting one of his friends. Otherwise he would’ve hung up by now. He cared deeply about etiquette and proper behavior.

She followed him up the stairs and they found themselves in a large, open space. She stopped, taking in the artistry of money and interior designers. Dark floors. Real wood, not laminate. A dark red leather sofa far too large for corporate premises. A plasma screen covering half a wall. A fireplace.

A fireplace and a TV in a corporate entry space? Strange.

Lucas’s voice faded into silence behind her. She heard some beeping. Photos and diplomas lined the walls. Lucas in one photo. Lucas’s university diploma. Lucas, maybe ten years younger, standing with an older couple. The sudden silence stunned her. She turned slowly.

Lucas stood across the room, leaning against what she now realized was a kitchen island. His expression was no longer neutral or professionally focused. His gaze was hard and merciless.

“We’re at your home,” she whispered.

Without answering, he slowly picked up some magazine from the counter and took a few steps toward her.

“Do you like band Elán?”
He tossed it onto the floor in front of her. It landed with a heavy thud.

“They have a song, Vodka and Revenge Taste Best Cold.”

Without moving, she lowered her gaze to the magazine. A two-year-old issue of Podnikateľ, a well-known business magazine. On the cover, her own smiling face looked back at her beside a bold headline. Young Millionaire. Entrepreneur of the Year, Third Time in a Row!

Her breath caught.

“I’ll explain it to you,” she suggested quietly.

“No need!” he snapped.

“…what do you want to do?” she managed after a moment, almost whispering.

“I’m going to rape you.”

It sounded like a statement. Not a threat.

She looked at him, uncertain rather than frightened.

“Lucas,” she hesitated. “That’s a criminal offense here,” she finished.

Without a word, he took her bag from her shoulder, turned, and walked around the counter into the kitchen area. He placed the bag inside some cabinet, locked it, and slipped the key into his pocket.

“Only if they can prove it,” he replied, smiling confidently and maliciously. He took out two glasses and set them down.

“Drink?”

He can’t possibly mean this.

Fear arrived, and she stayed silent.

Lucas pulled a bottle out of another cabinet and poured into both glasses.

“I hope you drink whisky.”

She was still silent, so he looked at her. He couldn’t miss the fact that her gaze kept drifting toward where they’d come from.

“You can forget about that,” he said. When she looked at him, he closed the bottle and went on. “The security system is armed. No exterior door or window opens without a code. Try it, and a very loud alarm goes off.”

He picked up both glasses, walked around the counter, and stopped in front of her.

“Inside the house only, of course. No police.”

He handed her one glass and met her eyes boldly.

Oh God. He really means it! she realized.

She slowly took the glass. He lifted his slightly toward her.

“To sweet revenge,” he said.

Her heart started pounding, and she took a quiet sip. Her thoughts raced. To the right of the kitchen counter, the space narrowed as if into a hallway. A small white box on the wall. The alarm. That must’ve been the beeping she’d heard earlier. So that had to be the main entrance. Definitely locked. In front of her, stairs down to the garage. Did the alarm secure that too? Probably. And she’d still have to get directly past Lucas. To the left, more stairs going up. Bedroom, probably, and things like that. What would she do if she got up there? She could lock herself in somewhere, at most. A door wouldn’t hold him back. Were there keys in them? At least in the bathroom? Would she even find one? And then what? Even if there was a window there and he hadn’t lied, she wouldn’t be able to open it. Even if she could, realistically, it was already three or four meters above the ground. Before she could do anything, he would circle the house. And on top of that, the super sexy but super high heels on her shoes. This didn’t look very promising…

She didn’t know how long the silence lasted, but he stayed silent too. She looked him over. He was still standing the same way. Artificial calm on his face, but his body seemed tense. And the glass in his left hand. He was right-handed. She realized his thoughts were exactly where hers were.

“You’re waiting for me to run,” she stated.

“Honestly,” he smirked self-importantly, “I was still debating whether you’d play it casual and calmly take off your shoes as if to get comfortable, or risk running in heels. But yes. I’m expecting it any second. If you run, which I don’t think you will anymore, you won’t make it farther than two steps from me.”

She clenched her teeth angrily for a moment and snapped.

“Are you enjoying this?!”

“Immensely,” he nodded. “You made me unbelievably angry and humiliated me. I intend to return those feelings with interest. So yes, watching you slowly realize you have absolutely no options, that you’re in my power, and that everything will still go exactly the way I want, which you obviously don’t like at all, feels very good.”

Her fear finally turned into anger.

“Fine. Then enjoy it!”

She set her glass down on the cabinet by the wall with a bang. Spread both arms, palms up.

“Go ahead! Right here?!”

He smiled hesitantly and set his glass down too.

“You assume,” he began slowly, “that I wanted a fight, and if you give yourself up willingly, I’ll lose interest?”

She gave him a defiant look but stayed silent.

“You’re wrong,” he continued. “Violence isn’t really in my nature. Today is simply repayment. What you lend out, you get back. Anger. Helplessness. Humiliation. The feeling that someone tricked you, that they’ve only been playing with you and enjoying themselves at your expense. The feeling that you’re in a situation you have no control over, one you can’t influence, and no matter how much you dislike it, you have to endure it and accept that someone else is deciding about you, according to their own whim and without regard for you.”

“I am simply not playing this game with you!” she hissed through her teeth, holding his gaze with determination. “I have no chance of stopping you from doing what you’ve decided, so let’s get this over with quickly. Get whatever you need out of your system and let’s go home!”

He studied her face for a moment.

“Fine,” he nodded.

He grabbed her wrist and led her toward the stairs. On the way up, she wanted to stomp demonstratively, but decided to keep her dignity.