Chapter 18 Theo
THEO
"So, you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?" Dimitri asks the moment we're in the hallway, far enough from Stassi's door.
"Not now," I say as we walk toward the office. The almost-kiss with Stassi still lingers on my lips like a phantom touch, and my mind is racing with everything she's revealed. My son. My father's betrayal. People trying to bring harm to the people I care about.
"Bullshit, not now," Dimitri keeps pace with me.
"Anastasia fucking Milonakis is back after four years of radio silence.
The woman who you moved earth to find. Who fucking destroyed you, bro.
And from what I just saw, you two looked about ready to tear each other's clothes off.
So what the fuck? I'm not letting someone do this to you again. "
I push open the heavy oak door to the office, not bothering to hold it for him. "I said, not now."
The office is dark except for the desk lamp. The leather chair creaks as I drop into it. I rub my hands over my face, feeling the rough stubble against my palms.
Dimitri doesn't sit. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like I'm about to explode. Maybe I am.
"She came to me for help, okay," I finally say, letting my hands fall to the desk. "Someone's threatening her."
"And you just welcomed her back with open arms?" Dimitri scoffs. "This is the woman who vanished without a fucking trace. The woman you tore yourself apart looking for."
I feel the muscles in my jaw twitch. "It's complicated."
"Yeah, I bet it is," he says and takes the seat across from me, leaning forward.
"Look, Theo, I love you. You're my brother.
But I watched what happened after she left.
I was there, remember? More than anyone.
I saw what it did to you. What you did to others.
I'm not— you hear me? I am not letting that shit happen again. "
The memory flashes through my head—the endless nights, the drinking, the anger, the dead ends, the growing certainty that something terrible had happened to her. The slow, crushing realization that she'd chosen to leave. The way it hollowed me out.
I look at my brother, who has every damn right to feel the way he does, and I suddenly want to tell him everything. About Xander. About our father's ultimatum to Stassi. About the arranged marriage that was planned for me—a strategic alliance with the Irish that I never knew about.
But the words lodge in my throat. It's too much, too fast. And some truths need to be handled carefully, especially when they rewrite our understanding of our father.
"I'll explain everything," I say instead. "But right now, I'm still figuring it out myself. She's staying here for now. That's all you need to know."
Dimitri studies me, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs. "Fine. But whatever she's involved in, whatever brought her back, make damn sure it doesn't blow back on us. And if it might? You fucking tell me and we handle it together. We've got enough problems as it is."
He's right about that. Father's murder. The power vacuum in Greece. The unknown players trying to move in on our territory.
"I assume that's why we're calling Ares now," I remind him. "One thing at a time."
Dimitri nods, accepting the temporary truce. "He's going to want to know about her, you know."
"And I'll tell him what he needs to know. When it's time."
I'm not going to get into how he already knows.
I pick up my secure phone, dialing Ares's number. As it rings, everything flashes before my eyes. A son I've never met. A woman I never stopped loving. A father whose legacy is more complicated—and more painful—than I ever imagined.
The call connects, and Ares's voice fills the room. "About fucking time."
"I'm here," I say, putting the call on speaker. "Dimitri's with me."
"Good," Ares says. "I've got something for you. I think you'll like it. Theo, that lawyer's laptop—the one who offed himself—it was encrypted, but you sent it to our men, and our tech guys managed to crack it, or at least part of it."
I lean forward in my seat and Dimitri shoots me a questioning look across the desk.
"What did they find?" I ask.
"It was a fucking goldmine," Ares says, his voice crackling slightly over the line. "We're talking records of wire transfers, detailed notes on meetings with Athenian Warrior members—including your friend Yannis and other high-ranking pieces of shit in their organization."
My fingers tap against the desk. Information is power, but only if it leads somewhere. "Any common denominator? Someone we can actually go after?"
"This is the part you'll like," Ares says, and I can hear the satisfaction in his voice. "All of the payments were tracked by someone named The Hawk."
"The Hawk?" Dimitri repeats, his brow furrowing. "What the fuck?"
I go still, storing the name away. The Hawk. Not an alias I've heard before, which means someone who's been careful to stay hidden.
"All transactions, all financials, were signed off or approved by him," Ares continues.
"And it wasn't just payments from those secure accounts at the bank we can't crack.
It was also to other low-level gangs. The Hawk kept things clean and organized.
Whoever he was working for must have been the motherfucker who ordered Dad's death. Or had a major part in it."
The rage that's been simmering inside me since my father's murder sharpens into something cold and focused. A new target to hunt.
"I spoke to George Zervas," Ares adds, "and they're going to see what they can dig up on this Hawk guy. I've sent our men on it, too. I'd assume he's gone underground, but let's fucking find him."
My mind explores the possibilities, connecting dots. If the Hawk was handling finances for whoever killed our father, he'd know names, locations, plans. Everything we need.
"Do we know anything else?" I ask. "Physical description, known associates, any patterns in the financials that might tell us where he operates from?"
"Nothing yet," Ares admits. "The files don't have personal information. Just his codename on the transactions. But I'm hoping in the coming days we can change that."
I lean back in my chair, processing. "Still unsure about George. He's being cooperative now, but I don't trust it."
"I know," Ares says, "but he's given us no reason not to trust him. Oh, sidenote—we spoke about him giving us the port. I told him to hold onto it for a few more weeks until this is resolved. I don't want our men focused on anything other than our damn vengeance."
Dimitri stands and starts pacing, his nervous energy showing. "If this Hawk fucker is as organized as you say, he's not stupid. He's got contingency plans. He knows people will come looking if anything happens to the lawyer—and dude just shot himself—so…"
"He's right," I say. "The Hawk might be expecting us. We need to be careful here."
Ares sighs. "Being careful won't get us the answers we need, brother. But I take your point. We'll be strategic."
"Is there anything else to report on your end, Theo?" Ares asks suddenly, and I know he's not talking about the Hawk anymore.
"Nothing yet," I reply, glancing at my younger brother, who stops pacing to look at me. "But right now, we focus on the Hawk. That's our priority."
Dimitri looks like he wants to argue, tell Ares about Stassi, but something in my expression must convince him to let it go. For now.
"Alright," Ares says. "I'll send you everything we have so far. Stay focused. And Theo? We're getting closer. I can feel it. And now, with Dimitri there to help out, it's only a matter of time before this is all behind us and the right people are taken care of."
"One hundred percent, brother," I agree. "We'll talk soon."
The call ends, and I sit in silence for a moment, the name repeating in my mind.
The Hawk.
"What's wrong?" Dimitri asks.
"Nothing," I lie, tapping my fingers on the desk.
This seems a bit convenient, though sometimes life works out like that. But an organized accountant who kept records linking back to our father's killer? The lawyer kills himself rather than talk but leaves behind his laptop with all this information?
We're either lucky, or maybe someone wants us chasing ghosts, or they're daring us to follow the trail.
"Well," I say, standing, "I'm going to bed. It's late. You're on Chicago time, so—"
"Yeah, fucking wide awake. Damn, I hate jetlag."
I shrug. "There's a few nice bottles of whiskey behind the bar. Elena just stocked the fridge."
"Yeah, I'll figure it out."
"We'll talk more in the morning," I say as I walk out.
Dimitri just looks at me, knowing I'm probably bullshitting him, but the truth is I'll have to come clean soon. To everyone. And not just about my son, but our dad and what he did.
I shake my head. I don't want to think about that now.
As I walk out into the living area, I stop and look down the hallway to Stassi's room.
Part of me—maybe all of me—wants to walk down that hall and finish what we started, continue on from right before my brother interrupted us.
But I know if I walk down that hall and back to her, I'll never leave.
And I either can't, or I'm just not ready to.
But she's the mother of my child. The first and only woman I've ever loved. The first woman who, when I closed my eyes, I still saw her face—soft and radiant.
But do I deserve it? Deserve love? If my father had his way, it seems I would have eventually married Sean Killaney's fiery redheaded daughter. She's beautiful, sure, but she's no Stassi—not in my eyes, anyhow.
I sigh and turn to head to my room.
So many questions, so few answers, and on top of everything, there's the letter Ares found on Dad. The one only he and I know about.
The sons will follow the father.
So while someone is threatening to take my son, I'm also being hunted.
If there's a God, hopefully I won't die before I get to meet him.
I'm not one for praying, but maybe I should start.