13. Ilias
ILIAS
T he silence in the SUV felt different on the way back.
Galena sat beside me, her duffel bag tucked between her legs and her arms folded as if she were still cold, even though the heat was on.
The drive from the storage facility took forty-three minutes due to traffic, but each minute felt like a slow drag through wet cement.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the place—the way the metal door creaked, the way that one bare bulb flickered overhead in that small, airless space, and her sad little mattress sitting on crates, so it wasn’t on the bare concrete.
There was no way to lock it from the inside, no other protection, nothing.
I hadn’t lied to her when I told her there was no pity for her, but I did adjust the truth a bit.
The thought of her living there alone made me angry, yet I felt a touch of pride in her at the same time.
I was glad we hadn’t brought Maxim with us because he would have lost his ever-fucking mind, and I wasn’t sure that I could handle his emotions on top of mine.
Galena didn’t need that right now. Maxim was all twisted up with guilt over things involving his sister, and I didn’t blame him for that.
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about his role in how everything unfolded.
She shouldn’t have been put in that situation to begin with, and it all started and ended with Maxim, but I had my role to play, didn’t I?
And I didn’t have any reason to be as upset as I was.
"You hungry?" I asked, to break the quiet.
She shook her head. "No."
I didn’t push. Didn’t tell her she should eat or offer suggestions, even though the woman looked like she needed to eat. I already knew that Evgenia would have food out for us at the house. Hopefully, Galena would be tempted. But she’d talk when she was ready, and if she wasn’t—that was fine too.
She twisted a curl around her finger, winding it this way and that, making it hard for me not to watch, especially when I should be paying attention to New York traffic. Some fucking bicycle messenger could pop out at any second. “We’ll sign the papers this afternoon?”
“Yeah, there is a judge who will come by with the paperwork. It should just be a few minutes.” I risked another look.
“Unless you wanted a ceremony. We could do that.” Did all women want a fancy ceremony?
Conall and Francesca hadn’t had one. I didn’t know much about that sort of thing.
Theo had made a big fuss about hers and made it all a big themed event.
Of course, Theo made every day of her life into an event.
“No. We can sign the papers.” She let her curl go, then picked another one on the opposite side and repeated the process.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if she was being completely honest with me. I didn’t have much experience with women beyond my sisters. I didn’t do romantic relationships. Sure, a mistress here and there, but they knew the score.
When we arrived at the brownstone, I walked around the car to open her door and offered Galena a small smile, trying not to be too weird about it. She returned it, but her fingers tightened around the duffel as she exited the car .
“Let me just grab the boxes from the back.”
A pause, then a slow nod. Her entire life was in my car, and it didn’t feel like enough.
I’d seen her fill two boxes and a duffel with barely enough clothes for a week.
The thought made me furious. Most of those boxes contained books or knick-knacks she’d taken from her home.
A few photos and the ashes of her mother and stepfather, which felt a bit macabre, having their remains in such a small space with her.
I made a mental note to ask her what she wanted to do with them. Have a memorial? Scatter them?
We went upstairs together, her feet soft on the dark hardwood, her breath audible in the quiet of the brownstone.
There were two rooms on the floor she was staying on, and one could be turned into an office or something.
I knew she had been attending classes before the assault.
There was a reason she still had the textbooks, and I’d seen in my report from Veronica that she’d been enrolled on scholarship.
Maybe she would want to continue. She hesitated just before we stepped inside the bedroom.
“You want these in here, right?” I asked to break the tension. “Or would you rather I set them out here in the hall and you can bring them in when you’re ready?” I didn’t want to invade her space without invitation.
“You can bring them in. That’d be great.” Her request was shy. “You can set them there,” she murmured, pointing toward the floor near the closet. Her voice sounded small.
I nodded and moved silently, setting the box down gently. “I didn’t like seeing that place.” I didn’t turn around, but my shoulders tightened as if I tried to control my temper. I knew I should keep my mouth shut about it, but as soon as I started, I couldn’t stop.
“It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.” The words were filled with hurt.
“I get it.” Turning to face her, the words were gritted out.
Her shoulders were stiff, and her eyes were full of pain, which hadn’t been my intention.
I should have kept my mouth shut. “But it was long enough. If you don’t feel happy here, I want you to tell me.
We can come up with an alternative without you running away or something.
” That’s what I wanted to be clear about.
I didn’t want her taking off and ending up in a situation like that.
She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the quilt. I knew she didn’t want pity. That wasn’t what this was supposed to be.
“I’ve been worse off,” she said, voice dull. “After Mom died, I… didn’t have a lot of choices. I made it work.”
“You shouldn’t have had to.” My jaw flexed, and something flickered in my gut—something dark and old. “No one should have to.” I knew what she said was true, and I hadn’t meant to open this can of worms.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” The words seemingly spat out of her before she could stop them. I flinched, hating how defensive she sounded. “You’ve probably never gone hungry a day in your life.”
“I have,” I confessed, and my breath hitched. “I’ve gone to bed hungry. You don’t know what I’ve lived through either, Galena. There are a lot of assumptions you’re making about my circumstances based on what you see now.”
Her lips pinched together, and she looked contrite, but she didn’t have anything to be sorry for. The air in the room felt suddenly thinner, as if it had been squeezed through something invisible. “I didn’t mean?—”
“I know.” My voice was softer now. “I just want you to understand that I’m not judging you.
I just don’t like the situation. You survived.
That’s not shameful. That’s strong .” I knew it was hard to feel strong in situations like this.
You felt like you were cracked down the middle, like one of those fancy china plates that was glued back together.
She looked away. “I don’t like being looked at like I’m fragile.”
“You’re not,” I said, stepping close enough to feel the heat of her.
God, she was like sunshine. Even with this cloud hanging over her, I caught glimpses of her brightness.
“But you are allowed to be cautious. You don’t have to perform for me.
” I cupped her cheek and let my fingers trail along the glowing skin there before tipping up her chin so I could see her face.
“Just be honest with me about how you’re feeling, like you’re doing. ”
She looked at me then, really looked. Pale eyes, wary but not guarded like before. Curious. Assessing. "Why did you do this? Let me stay here, agree to marry me—the whole thing? You didn’t have to."
I stepped back to give her space and resist the urge to take more.
I wanted to lean in and kiss her dusky rose lips that looked so tempting.
She had no idea how I had fought to hold myself back in that tiny storage unit.
I caught myself wanting to reach out a hand for one of those curls or grind into her, take her hard and fast. I promised her a marriage in name only, and I had to stick to that.
I curled my hands into fists. What was I even thinking?
Instead, I allowed the answer to coil in my throat, bitter and half-formed.
"Because I know what it’s like to feel …
” I shrugged, trying to wrap my head around what I wanted to say.
“Trapped in something you didn’t want or choose.
The oath. I know you’re doing it so you can get your revenge.
We’ll help you do that.” I wanted to try at least to explain.
She blinked and then refocused those blue eyes over to me.
“My childhood was … different. My mother tried to protect us for as long as she could, but there were days when she couldn’t shield us from anything.
He was an alcoholic, and when he was drunk, those were the worst times.
He was violent and abusive.” I swallowed hard, trying to push myself forward. Usually, I stopped there.
I didn’t discuss this kind of thing. Not even with my brothers. Vaso and Kostas were sent off to school. My mother had managed to secure an agreement with my father, but I was certain she’d paid a price I preferred not to know about. And that made me an asshole.