Chapter 19 Theo #2
Nicolas doesn't answer, just stares at me with that same amused expression that makes me want to break his face.
"Search the place," I tell Dio and our men. I turn to Dimitri. "Look for anything—phones, computers, files, hidden safes. I'll have a chat with our friend here."
I pull up another chair and sit directly across from Nicolas.
"Let's start simple," I say, keeping my voice calm. "How do you know me?"
He tilts his head. "Who says I know you?"
"You said my name. Outside the restaurant."
"Kastaris is hardly a secret name in certain circles."
I lean forward. "But you recognized me specifically."
He shrugs, the movement awkward with his hands bound behind him. His eyes, dark brown, almost black, reveal nothing.
"Where have we met before?" I press.
"Maybe we haven't. Maybe I just know what you look like."
I study his face, trying to place it. Those three jagged line scars dominate his features, but underneath them, there's something. A ghost of recognition that I can't quite grasp.
"What's your connection to Chris Xanos?"
His eyes flicker slightly at the lawyer's name. "Who?"
"The lawyer who put a bullet in his brain when my men came for him. The one who funneled money to the Athenian Warriors. But I don't have to tell you that," I say, leaning back. "Your alias was all over the receipts."
Nothing. Not even a blink.
I sigh and stand up. "Have it your way."
I walk to the kitchen and open a few drawers, looking for inspiration. I find a heavy marble rolling pin. That'll work.
When I return, Nicolas watches me with mild interest.
"You know how this goes," I tell him. "I ask questions, you deny knowing the answers, I hurt you until you decide to save yourself some pain."
"So predictable," he replies with a smile. "Why don't you—"
I swing the rolling pin hard against his thigh, connecting with enough force to make a solid thud without breaking anything—yet. He grunts but doesn't cry out.
"Who do you work for?" I ask.
He looks up at me, his breath slightly quicker but his voice steady. "You really have no idea what you're walking into, do you?"
Another swing, this time to his other thigh. "Answer the fucking question."
This psychopath starts laughing. "I'm merely a humble servant to powers greater than either of us."
I grab his throat, squeezing just enough to restrict his air without cutting it off entirely. "You think this is a game?"
"No," he wheezes. "But you do. That's what makes it so amusing."
I release him and step back, frustrated. This isn't working.
Dimitri returns from searching the bedroom, shaking his head. "Nothing. Place is clean. Too clean."
I turn back to Nicolas. "How do you know me? Where have we met?"
He just stares, that infuriating half-smile still on his lips.
Dimitri steps forward, flexes his hand, and without warning drives his fist into Nicolas's face. Blood sprays from his nose, splattering across the pristine white rug beneath him.
"Answer him," Dimitri demands.
Nicolas spits blood onto the floor and laughs again, this time it sounds wet and disturbing.
"You're all going to die," he says, through bloodstained teeth. "You two, Ares, Calli. All of you. It's already done."
I grab him by the shirt, lifting him and the chair he's tied to. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," he replies, blood dripping down his chin. "The wheels are already turning. Nothing you do to me changes that."
I slam him back down, the chair legs clattering against the hardwood floor. "Who sent you? Who are you working for?"
He just laughs, harder this time, like he's genuinely enjoying himself despite the blood streaming from his nose. "You still don't see it, do you? After all this time, you Kastaris brothers are still blind to what's right in front of you. Just like your father."
Dimitri flies past me and starts punching him repeatedly in the face. Over and over.
I pull him off.
"Wait, wait," I tell Dimitri. "Hold on. I think…" I trail off.
And then it all comes together. Hearing him mention my father unlocks what I need.
"What?" Dimitri asks, breathing heavily.
The picture.
The one Ares reminded me of. The one he emailed me.
I grab my phone, fingers clumsy with sudden urgency, and scroll through my emails until I find it.
The last known photograph of our father alive.
In it, he's talking to someone we don't know. The other man's face turned just enough that only the left side of his profile is visible.
There wouldn't be any scars visible from that angle.
But...
I look up from my phone to the man tied to the chair. The blood has slowed, leaving dark streaks down his chin, over his throat.
"It's you. You knew our father," I say, my tone heavy with the realization.
Dimitri looks at the picture and then at our captive. "Motherfucker, that's him," he says.
Nicolas stops laughing, his expression shifting into something colder, more focused. "Very good, Theo. You're getting warmer."
"This is you," I hold up my phone, showing him the picture. "With my father shortly before he was killed."
Nicolas looks at it. "Ah, yes. He was quite cheerful that day. Had no idea what was coming."
Rage bubbles up inside me, white-hot and consuming. I grab him by the throat again, harder this time, not being careful if I cut off his airways. "You killed him."
"Did I?" he wheezes, still somehow managing to look amused despite my fingers crushing his windpipe. "Or did I just give the order?"
"Who are you working for?" Dimitri demands, moving to stand beside me.
Nicolas looks at him. "The better question is: who was your father working for?"
The question throws me. "What?"
"Did you think your father built his empire alone?" Nicolas laughs. "There are always bigger fish, Theo. Always someone higher up the food chain that deserves their fair share."
I release him, stepping back as my mind races. "You're lying."
"Am I? Ask yourself why a man as careful as your father would bring someone like me into his private world. Ask yourself why a man as powerful as him would end up with a bullet in his head."
"You're saying he was betrayed," Dimitri says.
Nicolas shrugs. "Among other things."
I stare at him—at the scars that transformed whatever face he had before. At the eyes that saw my father's final moments.
"Sir, I think you should see this."
"What did you find?" I ask.
"It was taped to the backside of a painting in the office," Dio says, handing me what appears to be a black leather-bound book. It's thin, about the size of a standard notebook. "Hidden pretty well," he says, and then looks at Nicolas. "We almost missed it."
I follow his gaze, and for the first time since we captured him, Nicolas's composure slips. It's subtle, but I saw it. Whatever this book is, it matters.
"You recognize this?" I ask, holding it up.
He looks away. "Never seen it before."
Dimitri reads Nicolas's face like I do. "Liar," he snarls and drives his fist into Nicolas's jaw. Nicolas's head snaps sideways, but he just spits blood onto the floor and smiles.
"Come on, Dimitri. Such a soft hit for the self-proclaimed enforcer of the family."
I open the book. Inside are pages of meticulous handwriting—names, dates, amounts.
It's a ledger.
I flip through it carefully, scanning the entries. Some names I recognize immediately. Members of the Athenian Warriors.
But there are others. Dozens more. Names I've never heard, arranged in some kind of hierarchy, with amounts beside them. Some have check marks. Others have X's.
"What is this?" I ask, not looking up from the pages.
Nicolas remains silent.
I close the ledger and turn to face him. I reach behind my back and pull out my gun, aiming it directly at Nicolas's forehead.
"Enough games," I say, my voice dropping. "Tell me who killed my father!”
Nicolas looks up at the gun, then at me. There's no fear in his eyes.
"Even with that," he says, nodding at the ledger, "you still don't get it."
"Enlighten me," I press the barrel of the gun against his skin.
"You could kill me. Torture me. Cut me up into small pieces and throw me in the Aegean." The words come out firm. "It still wouldn't be as bad as what they'd do to me. My family. They'll erase my bloodline from this earth. Just as they plan on doing to—"
The rest of his sentence is obliterated along with most of his left eye. One moment he's speaking; the next, there's a wet thud and a spray of red mist. I don't even register the sound of the shot before the windows explode inward.
Glass shards rain down. The room erupts with gunfire.
I drop to the floor, my body operating on pure instinct while my mind struggles to catch up. Bullets tear into the walls, the furniture, ripping chunks from the ceiling. The sudden flurry of bullets is deafening, disorienting.
"Dio!" I shout, looking at him.
He's sprawled on his back near the doorway, a dark stain spreading across his chest. His eyes are open, staring at nothing. Dead before he even knew what hit him.
Fuck.
"We need to move!" Dimitri yells from somewhere to my left. He's flattened himself against the wall next to the shattered window, his gun in his hand. "They've got us surrounded!"
I army-crawl toward him, keeping my head down as bullets continue to tear through the apartment. Nicolas's body is slumped in the chair, what's left of his face a red ruin. The ledger—fuck, I dropped it.
I pivot, reaching out to grab it.
"Let's go!" Dimitri shouts. "We need to get the fuck out of here!"
Bullets are still flying, coming in from multiple directions at once.
"There's a back door," I say to Dimitri. "Through the kitchen."
He nods, and we both prepare to make a run for it.
"On three," I say, taking a deep breath. "One. Two. Three!"
We lunge forward, staying low, racing toward the kitchen. More glass shatters behind us as bullets pierce through the remaining windows. Our remaining men follow close behind us.
We burst into the kitchen just as the front door explodes inward. I risk a glance back and catch a glimpse of black tactical gear, masked figures flooding into the apartment.
"Move!" I shove Dimitri toward the door at the back of the kitchen.
He yanks it open, and we tumble into a narrow stairwell. The door slams shut behind us, and I hear the distinct sound of bullets hitting the metal from the other side.
"Fuck the rest of our crew," Dimitri yells.
"Go, go," I order, though Dimitri is already moving.
We descend the stairs quickly. My heart pounds in my chest.
"They knew we had Nicolas," I say. "And they made sure he couldn't talk."
We reach the third-floor landing when we hear the service door above us crash open. More footsteps—heavier and more numerous than our own. They're coming.
"Split up at the bottom," I tell Dimitri. "You head east, I'll go west."
"Like hell," Dimitri yells. "We stick together."
We hit the first floor, and I shove the door open, gun first. The service corridor is clear. We sprint down it toward the side exit that should lead to an alley.
I push the exit bar, and the door swings open to reveal the narrow alleyway. Empty, thank God. But I can already hear sirens in the distance. Someone's called the police.
As we sprint away from the building, my mind races faster than my feet. Nicolas's last words echo in my head. They plan on doing to—who? Us? The Kastaris family? Was he warning us?
And that ledger. All those names. The connections I'd been looking for, right there in black and white. If I can get out of this alive, I may have solved so much.
We weave through back streets, cutting through a restaurant kitchen, ignoring the shouts of the startled staff. Out the front, across a busy street, down another alley. We don't slow down until we're sure no one's following us.
We duck into a coffee shop and finally feel at ease.
"We're fucking onto something, Dimitri. They made sure Nicolas was silenced before he could tell us anything. Someone big is behind all this."
He nods, breathing deeply to catch his breath.
My phone buzzes. It's Stassi.
Flight booked for tomorrow. 9 AM.
I stare at her message, a strange feeling washing over me. If I'd been a few inches to the left, if that sniper had better aim, I'd be dead right now. I'd never see my son. My son who doesn't even know I exist yet.
I type back.
Thank you.
Whatever game we've stumbled into, whatever web Nicolas was part of, it's bigger and more dangerous than I imagined. And now it threatens not just me and my brothers, but Stassi and my son too.
I need to think, because one thing is clear: we're not just hunting anymore.
We're being hunted, too.
"Dimitri," I say, pocketing my phone. "I need to leave Greece for a few days."
He looks up sharply. "Are you out of your fucking mind? We just got ambushed. Dio is dead. And you want to leave now?"
The coffee shop buzzes around us, patrons sipping espresso and chatting, oblivious to the fact that two men who just escaped a firefight are sitting among them.
"I've got no choice," I say, leaning forward. "It's about Stassi."
Dimitri's jaw tightens. "What about her?"
"Look. It'll just be a few days. Then I'll be back," I say, looking around. "I need you to take the lead on this. Dig deeper into the ledger. When I get back, I'll explain everything."
"You realize the timing is shit, right?" Dimitri leans forward. "We just had Nicolas in our hands. He was about to tell us who's behind all this—who might have killed our father—and now he's dead. His people tried to kill us too. And you want to leave the country."
"I know," I admit. "But I can't ignore this. I have to go."
The muscles in Dimitri's jaw flex.
"And Ares? What do I tell him?"
I consider this. Ares will be furious that I'm leaving in the middle of all this.
"I'll take care of him. Don't worry about it."
He gives me a long look, then nods. "Fine. I'll hold things down here. But Theo?" His voice lowers, deadly serious. "Be careful. Whoever came for Nicolas today wasn't fucking around."
"I'll be careful," I promise. "But I need you to be careful too. Don't go after these fuckers alone. Wait for me to come back."
Dimitri nods. "I'll look into everything. The ledger, Nicolas, all of it. By the time you get back, I'll have something."
"Good." I stand. "Let's get back to the house."