Chapter 15
15
S oft sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting warm streaks across the plush bedding. Aurelia blinked against the golden light, her mind fuzzy as she took in her surroundings. This wasn’t her room. Her gaze traveled over the elegant furniture, the pale walls, and the sprawling bed she lay in. The realization hit her—she was in the master suite. Still.
Before she could process what she wanted to do, a familiar weight shifted beside her. Michalis stirred, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer as he buried his face in her hair.
“Good morning, agápe mou ,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, the vibration of it sending a shiver through her.
Aurelia stiffened for a fraction of a second before relaxing into his warmth, unsure whether to resist or revel in the comfort of it. “Good morning,” she replied, her voice quiet but steady.
“You slept well,” he said, his lips brushing her temple as he spoke.
Her mind flashed back to the night before—how he had carried her here, how his touch and presence had lulled her into compliance when she was too tired to argue. And the dream that wasn’t a dream. Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Apparently,” she said, shifting slightly to put some space between them. “I don’t recall agreeing to a room change, though.”
Michalis smirked, propping himself up on one elbow to study her. “You didn’t protest, either,” he countered. “And from the way you’re snuggling into me now, I’d say I made the right decision.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but the way his gaze roamed over her silenced her. His expression was calm, his satisfaction evident in the way his lips twitched upward.
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Get ready,” he said softly. “We’re going out.”
Aurelia’s brow furrowed. “Out? As in, leaving the house?”
A gleam of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Yes. We’re having lunch at La Serena . And before you ask, no, you don’t have a choice.”
Her stomach flipped at the idea of freedom, even if only temporary. “ La Serena ?” she asked, tilting her head.
“You’ll see,” he replied with a mysterious smile.
Aurelia stood in front of the wardrobe, running her fingers over the delicate fabrics hanging neatly inside. She’d barely believed it when the packages had started arriving yesterday—dresses, shoes, and accessories, all lavish and undeniably hers. She pulled out a sleeveless navy dress with a subtle sheen, holding it up against her body. It was simple but elegant, with a cinched waist and a hem that skimmed just above the knee.
In the adjoining bathroom, she took a quick shower, then carefully applied light makeup and styled her hair in loose waves that fell over her shoulders. The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked poised, her lips painted a soft pink and her navy dress complementing her complexion. She couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her as she slipped on a pair of nude heels and clasped a gold bracelet around her wrist. Her ring, so heavy the day before, seemed a little lighter. Maybe, just maybe, she could get used to wearing it.
The sleek black car glided over the sunlit streets, the steady hum of the engine punctuating the comfortable silence. Aurelia sat beside Michalis, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery. Every mile that put distance between her and the estate filled her with a quiet exhilaration.
Michalis leaned back in his seat, his arm stretched casually along the backrest. “You look stunning,” he said, his tone low but sincere.
Caught off guard, Aurelia turned to him, her cheeks heating under his steady gaze. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the engine.
His hand moved to rest on her thigh, a gentle but possessive touch that sent a ripple of awareness through her. She glanced at his hand but didn’t push it away.
“Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers, as if searching for something.
His question hung heavily in the air between them, a palpable tension she couldn't escape. “I’m…not sure yet,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t push her further. “Progress.”
The rest of the car ride was spent in companionable silence. When they arrived, Michalis helped her from the car, then escorted by three bodyguards. Aurelia had gotten so used to them, she barely even noticed.
The air inside La Serena was cool and fragrant, the subtle hum of conversation blending with the soft clinking of glassware. Aurelia allowed Michalis to lead her through the restaurant, his hand firm and warm at the small of her back. Heads turned as they passed, diners’ gazes lingering on them, no doubt curious about who they were.
At their table near the back, Michalis pulled out her chair before settling into his own. The server arrived promptly with menus and water, but Aurelia barely glanced at hers, her attention snagged by the way Michalis leaned toward her, his focus wholly on her.
“You seem nervous,” he observed, his lips curving into a teasing smile.
“I’m not nervous,” she replied, lifting her chin. “Just…curious.”
“Curious?” he echoed, his voice rich with amusement. “About what?”
“About why you brought me here,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“I wanted to take my wife to lunch.” he said simply, his tone warm and genuine.
The server returned, balancing a tray of meticulously arranged dishes. The aroma of freshly grilled seafood, lemon, and herbs wafted between them as he set down the small plates. A vibrant salad of ripe tomatoes, cucumber, and feta glistened with olive oil, while tender pieces of lamb rested atop a bed of couscous. Aurelia’s mouth watered despite her nerves.
Michalis leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze softening as he watched her take in the spread. “Try the salad first,” he suggested, his voice warm but firm, the kind of tone that left little room for argument.
She reached for her fork, spearing a cherry tomato. The tangy burst of flavor surprised her, followed by the creamy richness of the feta. Without meaning to, she let out a quiet hum of approval.
Michalis’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. He reached across the table, adjusting her plate slightly so it sat at a better angle for her. “Good?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers.
“It’s…perfect,” she admitted, though her guard stayed firmly in place. “Better than I expected.”
“I told you you’d enjoy it,” he replied, his smile deepening as he turned his attention to his own plate. He cut into a slice of lamb with deliberate precision, his movements calm and assured. “Here. Try mine.”
Aurelia took the bite from his outstretched fork, her thoughts swimming in the quiet between them, her determination to remain on her guard slowly weakening. The food was exquisite, the flavors exploding in her mouth. The lamb was cooked to perfection, juicy and flavorful. Her eyes closed in bliss. The lamb was tender with a hint of smokiness that delighted her taste buds. The faint scent of wine lingered in the air, adding to the sensory experience. She opened her eyes, only to find his focused on her lips like they were a puzzle he meant to solve. Heat crept up her cheeks and she quickly swallowed the bite of lamb.
“W-what is next on your agenda after this?” she asked, hoping to distract him and herself from the tension that had settled between them.
He took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving hers. “After this?” He mused aloud, as if he hadn’t given it much thought before now. “I suppose I’ll continue my search for...” he trailed off, his words hanging in the air like a delicate spider's web.
“For what?” Aurelia pressured him, her curiosity piqued despite her better judgment. She knew she shouldn’t get involved with his secrets, but there was something about him that drew her in, like a moth to a flame.
He smiled almost sadly. “The answers to the universe, I suppose.”
Her eyes narrowed. That wasn’t what he’d been about to say, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know, so she let it go after a long moment, deciding the best thing she could do was focus on her food.
As she ate, however, thoughts of their complicated relationship kept intruding, preventing her from fully savoring eat bite. She wanted to relax, to enjoy the moment, but she knew her resolve was wavering dangerously. Michalis' presence filled her with a longing she couldn't deny.
She glanced at Michalis, his focus now on his meal, and found herself drawn to the way he seemed so at ease. She spent the next twenty minutes enjoying her lunch, sneaking peaks at Michalis under her lashes. He really was handsome and self-assured. She kept insisting she wanted a divorce, but was that still true? If they weren’t married anymore, there would be no more days like this one. No more steamy nights, either. She sighed. What was she thinking?
It was then that he placed his palm, face up, on the table between them.
The gesture was so simple, so unassuming, that it caught her off guard. His hand rested there, steady and open, the faint scars along his knuckles a reminder of the life he lived. Her eyes flicked to his face, her breath hitching when she met his gaze. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at her—a quiet challenge, yes, but also an invitation.
Her fingers tightened around her fork, hesitating. What’s the catch? she wondered, her mind racing. But the steady warmth in his gaze told her there wasn’t one. Slowly, cautiously, she set down her fork and slid her hand into his.
His fingers closed around hers, firm but not overwhelming, as if he was afraid to squeeze too tightly. The warmth of his skin seeped into hers, and she shivered despite herself. His thumb moved almost absentmindedly, tracing gentle circles over her knuckles before brushing over her ring.
Aurelia’s heart thudded in her chest. She stared at their joined hands, her fingers dwarfed by his. The callouses on his palm spoke of a man used to control, used to commanding power, but his touch was careful, almost reverent.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that drew her eyes back to his.
“I’m…processing,” she said softly, unsure how to explain the mix of emotions swirling inside her. The intimacy of the moment felt like a thread binding them together, fragile yet unbreakable.
He tilted his head, his gaze searching hers. “You don’t have to overthink everything, agápe mou ,” he said, the Greek endearment falling from his lips like a caress. “Sometimes, it’s enough to just…be.”
Her chest tightened at his words, at the way they seemed to unravel her defenses. She wanted to argue, to push him away and protect herself, but her hand remained in his. She didn’t pull back.
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over the ring once more. “This suits you,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “I like seeing it on you.”
“It doesn’t mean what you think it does,” she replied quietly, her voice carrying a hint of defiance.
His smile didn’t falter. “It will,” he said, his confidence unwavering.
Her breath hitched as their eyes locked, the moment electric in its intimacy. The din of the restaurant faded into the background, leaving only the steady rhythm of her pulse and the warmth of his hand anchoring her.
The intensity in his gaze made her stomach flip, and she was grateful when the server returned to refill their glasses, breaking the moment. Still, as she pulled her hand away to reach for her glass, she couldn’t help but feel the lingering warmth of his touch, a sensation that refused to fade.
The sound of chairs scraping against the floor broke the moment. Aurelia turned to see a handsome Italian man approaching with a striking woman at his side, cradling a newborn in her arms, the tiny bundle swaddled in soft blankets.
Michalis greeted them cordially, though Aurelia felt the tension in his body as he introduced her. “Aurelia, this is Antonio Bonetti and his sister, Carmen.”
Antonio’s handshake was firm, his assessing gaze sharp. Carmen’s smile, in contrast, was warm as she adjusted the baby in her arms.
After a few minutes of polite conversation, Michalis and Antonio excused themselves to talk privately. Aurelia shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling exposed under Carmen’s curious gaze.
“Your husband is very protective of you,” Carmen remarked, her voice soft but carrying a deliberate undertone. Her dark eyes lingered on Aurelia, warm but assessing, as though every word would yield an answer to an unspoken question.
Aurelia offered a polite smile, unsure how much to reveal—or how much Carmen already knew. “He’s…intense,” she said finally, her tone carefully neutral.
Carmen’s laugh was light, a soft, melodic sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s one way to put it,” she replied, shifting her son in her arms. “You seem to handle him well.”
Aurelia hesitated. Was that a compliment? Or something else entirely? The way Carmen’s gaze didn’t waver left her feeling exposed, like there was more behind the words than a casual remark. “Your baby is adorable,” Aurelia said quickly, steering the conversation away. “Is he your first?”
The change in topic was deliberate, and Carmen seemed to recognize it, though she didn’t push. Instead, she glanced down at the tiny bundle nestled against her. A genuine smile softened her features. “Yes. He’s the joy of my life.”
The tender way Carmen spoke stirred something in Aurelia, a pang of longing she couldn’t quite define. Before she could dwell on it, Carmen tilted her head slightly. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Oh,” Aurelia stammered, caught off guard. Her hands twitched in her lap, the idea of holding something so fragile both thrilling and terrifying. “I’d love to, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Carmen leaned forward, carefully placing the baby in Aurelia’s arms. His tiny body was impossibly warm, his weight solid but light. Aurelia adjusted instinctively, her hands cradling him as his soft breathing tickled her skin. She stared down at the baby, captivated by the delicate curve of his nose, the faint flutter of his eyelashes.
As if sensing her gaze, the baby’s fingers curled around hers. A small, involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Warmth spread through her, a sensation that started in her chest and radiated outward, settling deep in her soul. She hadn’t held a baby in years—hadn’t even thought about it. But now, with this tiny life in her arms, something shifted inside her, something she didn’t have a name for.
“You’re a natural,” Carmen observed softly, watching her with a curious intensity. “Are you and your husband planning to have a family right away?”
The question hit Aurelia like a sudden gust of wind, throwing her balance off-kilter. Her gaze darted from the baby to Carmen, then back down again, as though the answer might be hidden in the tiny hand gripping her finger. “I…we haven’t talked much about it,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “I think he would like that.”
Carmen’s brow arched slightly, her smile kind but edged with something probing. “You seem very close,” she remarked. “It’s obvious he cares for you deeply.”
Aurelia felt the heat rising to her cheeks. “Michalis is…complicated,” she said carefully. She shifted the baby in her arms, avoiding Carmen’s eyes. “But he’s protective, yes.”
“That kind of protectiveness can be…overwhelming,” Carmen said, her words casual but her tone sharp enough to slice through Aurelia’s defenses. “Some women find it stifling.”
Aurelia stiffened, her grip on the baby tightening slightly. “Michalis has always made my safety a priority,” she said, her voice firm. “It’s not stifling. It’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Reassuring.”
Carmen tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. “That’s good to hear. Not all women would feel the same.”
Aurelia looked up, meeting Carmen’s gaze head-on. There was no mistaking the curiosity—and perhaps suspicion—in her expression. She wasn’t just making conversation; she was digging, testing, waiting for Aurelia to falter. How much did she know about their relationship?
“I suppose it depends on the woman,” Aurelia said coolly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m not afraid of him, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Carmen blinked, her expression smoothing into something more neutral. “Of course not,” she said quickly. “I only meant that it’s clear he’s very…intense about you.”
“He’s my husband,” Aurelia replied simply, her words carrying a possessive undertone she hadn’t anticipated. “It’s natural for him to care.”
For a brief moment, the two women locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. Carmen leaned back slightly, her gaze softening. “You’re right,” she said. “It is natural, especially in our world.”
The baby stirred then, letting out a soft coo that broke the tension. Aurelia looked down, her heart twisting at the sight of his tiny, peaceful face. The longing she’d felt earlier returned, sharper this time. What would a baby with Michalis look like?
The door shut behind them with a heavy click, sealing Michalis and Antonio in the dimly lit private lounge. Antonio strode to the bar, his movements deliberate as he poured two glasses of whiskey. His restaurant, his ground, his rules—his body language made that abundantly clear.
He held out one of the glasses to Michalis, who accepted it after a beat of hesitation. The tension between them was palpable, a low hum of distrust that lingered from their last encounter—a confrontation that had nearly ended in bloodshed.
Antonio leaned casually against the bar, his dark eyes sharp. “Well, Michalis,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with steel. “I’ve met your wife.”
Michalis stood rooted, his posture rigid but composed, his icy gaze unwavering. “And?”
Antonio tilted his head, as though weighing his next words carefully. “She seems…content,” he said finally. “Happy, even. I don’t know what your arrangement is, but I’ll admit—it doesn’t look like she’s being held against her will.”
A flicker of satisfaction passed through Michalis’s expression. He took a sip of his whiskey, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink. “Good,” he said. “Then we’re done here.”
“Not quite.” Antonio’s voice was quiet, but it carried authority. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “Carmen is still with her. Depending on what she has to say after this little chat of theirs, I’ll decide if I agree to what you’re asking.”
Michalis’s expression darkened, the air around him shifting like the calm before a storm. He took a step closer to Antonio, his broad shoulders squaring as the tension ratcheted up. “Regardless of what your sister says, Aurelia isn’t going anywhere. She’s my wife, and that’s the end of it.”
Antonio didn’t flinch. If anything, his smirk deepened, a sharp edge glinting in his gaze. “Your confidence is admirable,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “But let me remind you of something, Michalis. Seven years ago, it was my men who got caught in the crossfire of whatever mess you were cleaning up. I buried friends because of it. If anyone owes anyone here, it’s you.”
Michalis’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. The unspoken history between them hung heavy in the air, an open wound neither was willing to ease. “And you think handing my wife over to that bastard Khomenko evens the scales?” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Because that’s not happening. Not now. Not ever.”
Antonio regarded him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “If she decides she doesn’t want anything to do with Khomenko, fine. I’ll help you bury him,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “But you can’t keep her in the dark forever, Michalis. If she finds out who he is—who you are—on her own, it’ll blow up in your face. And if that happens, don’t come crying to me.”
Michalis scoffed, but he said nothing, his silence a clear sign he wasn’t willing to concede the point.
After a moment, Antonio’s demeanor shifted, the tension between them easing ever so slightly. He took another sip of his whiskey before speaking again. “Look,” he said, setting the glass down. “We’re both dealing with the same problem here. Khomenko’s people have been sniffing around my operations, too. I started digging, and in the process, I found something you might want to know.”
Michalis’s eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening. “What is it?”
Antonio didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked to a small safe hidden behind a sleek cabinet. He keyed in the combination, withdrawing a thin folder. “A little birdie told me something interesting about your wife’s sudden reappearance,” he said, tossing the folder onto the table between them.
Michalis stared at it but didn’t move. “I’m listening.”
Antonio leaned against the table, his tone casual but deliberate. “Someone got her that fundraiser ticket, right? Slipped it into her hands, past all your security? I don’t know how much you’ve pieced together, but I found out who it was.”
Michalis’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
“One of my informants recognized the man,” Antonio continued. “Name’s Petros. He’s small-time but resourceful. Real slippery. My people picked him up yesterday, and they’re delivering him to your estate this evening.”
Michalis’s eyes narrowed. “And why would you do that?”
“Consider it a gesture of good faith,” Antonio said with a shrug, though his tone carried an edge. “You’ve brought Aurelia out into the open, let me see her for myself. Now it’s my turn to show I’m willing to work together—if it means we can take Khomenko off the board for good.”
Michalis crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “So that’s what this is about. You want me to do your dirty work.”
Antonio smirked. “I’d call it a mutually beneficial arrangement. Khomenko’s a threat to both of us, whether you want to admit it or not. And if we’re going to get rid of him, it’s going to take more than just your...confidence.”
The silence between them crackled with tension, neither man willing to back down. Finally, Michalis spoke, his voice low and measured. “We’ll see.”
Antonio’s smirk widened. “Good. Now let’s get back before Carmen starts wondering if we’ve killed each other.”
With that, he pushed off the table, heading for the door. Michalis lingered for a moment, his gaze drifting to the folder, before following.
As they stepped back into the main dining room, Michalis’s eyes immediately sought out Aurelia. She was still seated at the table, cradling the baby in her arms, a soft smile playing on her lips. His chest tightened at the sight, a mixture of possessiveness and something deeper stirring within him.
Antonio’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s something, I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone almost begrudging. “Let’s hope for your sake she’s as loyal as she seems.”
Michalis didn’t respond. Instead, he strode toward Aurelia, his focus narrowing to her and only her.
He bent to kiss her temple. “You’re going to be a good mother someday,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “Let’s go home.”
Aurelia flushed, her heart racing. She handed the baby back to Carmen, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. She wanted children, but did she want them with Michalis? Did she want to raise a child in his world? Was his world really so bad?
She twisted her wedding ring nervously as they drove back home, absently watching the familiar scenery pass by, her mind in turmoil.
She wanted to sort out her jumbled thoughts, but the suffocating silence in the car only added to her turmoil.
Everything seemed to be happening at lightning speed and she wasn't sure what she truly wanted anymore.
As she stared out the window, her mind raced with questions - what did she really want? Was she falling for him despite all the danger, control, and darkness that came with his world? Despite knowing it was wrong? The conflicting emotions within her made it impossible to find a clear answer.
Beside her, Michalis’s presence was solid, steady. His hand took hers again, and this time, she let it stay.