24. Ilias
ILIAS
T he brownstone was quiet for now, but not for long.
We’d agree to guests. Galena had said she didn’t mind if her brothers came over, and Evgenia was already here cooking.
That led to a discussion about whether Kostas and Vaso would be invited, which then sparked talk about whether other people could come by.
I wasn’t sure if she wanted a distraction from what had happened or if she genuinely wanted to meet the rest of my family.
Maybe she figured if she kept busy enough, she wouldn’t have to think about what had happened at the warehouse.
Tomorrow, the woman who was going to teach her self-defense would be stopping by, so maybe that would help her process. I’d also given her the name and number of the therapist we started with. Perhaps she’d be open to that—anything that could help her.
I was hoping I hadn’t made a mistake in agreeing to letting her come to the warehouse, but I wanted to respect that she wanted to be in charge of her own choices.
Maxim and Dimitri’s judgmental glares made me second-guess how I was handling things.
Still, I remembered how it had made me feel when I took my own power back when I killed my father.
I’d found a little peace. People said that killing never made anything better.
That revenge was hollow company. I called bullshit.
Justice did make things better. It balanced the scales, but when it was done by your own hand? Fucking poetry.
I could already hear Evgenia bustling in the kitchen downstairs—pots clanging in rhythms she’d perfected over decades. Evgenia could be a lot, so I hoped she was gentle, especially since Galena had just been part of an execution.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” I asked quietly, leaning close. Her profile was pale in the amber light filtering through the chandelier above the staircase. “You don’t have to talk to anyone if you’re not ready.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m okay.” Her voice was quiet, but certain .
That was the thing with Galena. Even when her voice trembled, her spine stayed straight. I admired the hell out of that.
The scent of garlic and herbs was already thick in the air—Evgenia’s version of a welcome mat.
When we rounded the corner into the kitchen, she turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her sharp Greek eyes flicked over Galena from head to toe, taking in the dark jeans, the too-big sweatshirt, the shadows under her eyes.
I braced for impact. Evgenia folded her arms. “She looks too thin,” she said, glancing at me accusingly before walking over to Galena. “You eat?”
Galena blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… I had something earlier.” She shot me a glare at my chuckle, aware that I thought I knew exactly what she’d had.
“Not real food,” Evgenia scoffed. “Sit. I’ll make you something.”
Galena gave me a wide-eyed glance that made me bite down a smile. Evgenia immediately shoved a steaming bowl of avgolemono soup in front of her, complete with crusty bread and a small plate of olives.
Galena’s hands wrapped around the bowl for a moment as Evgenia gave her a curt nod and bustled away. Her lips parted, and her eyes flicked to me and whispered, “She’s kind of terrifying.”
“Nah,” I whispered back. “Only be terrified if you don’t like her food.” Although it wasn’t exactly a joke. Evgenia was a sweetheart, but she didn’t take well to criticism.
The corners of her mouth twitched. A flicker of color was coming back into her cheeks with each sip of soup.
The doorbell rang just before the security panel lit up on the wall, showing Vaso and Kostas bantering with Spiros. “Yo! Let me in.” His voice rang through the kitchen, making Galena’s lips curve into a smile. “I’m starving!”
“That boy.” Evgenia shook her head like she was exasperated, while I pressed the panel to buzz him through. We both knew that she loved us all, and loved us even more when she could feed us.
“Evgenia, I smell delicious things. They better not have kale in them. I hate kale.”
“Why would anything have kale in it? Weirdo,” Kostas answered from behind him.
Vaso was, as usual, all swagger and chaos. We’d texted on the way over, so they were aware of what had happened early in the day. I could see him looking at Galena, checking that she was alright. “You survived my brother’s brooding. I’m impressed.”
Kostas followed more quietly, adjusting his glasses. He gave her a small, respectful nod. “You okay?”
“I’m good, thanks. Had a nice walk at the pier.” Kostas barked out a surprised laugh. “Then Ilias took me to his favorite spot.” She winked at me.
“Wow, my brother is showing you all his moves in one day.” Vaso snatched Evgenia and kissed her on the cheek.
I’d talked with Galena about how, while Evgenia knew the basics of who we were, we were careful not to go into details in front of her about our illegal dealings.
It wasn’t that we ever thought she would betray us, but it was to protect her where we could.
Galena’s offhand comment was just the kind of talk we often had in front of mixed company.
I sent her a wink. “Oh, I have all sorts of moves she hasn’t even seen yet. ”
Another voice called out, “Oh my god, is this her?”
Seconds later, my sister breezed into the kitchen, a Rockabilly vision in a tank dress and Converse, her hair pulled up on top of her head and wrapped in a scarf.
She was glowing. Unapologetically dramatic, and absolutely incapable of subtlety.
Her baby bump was starting to show now, which I was sure was the reason she wasn’t in some outfit that was a little splashier.
My sister loved fashion more than anything, but she’d already told me more than once that it annoyed the hell out of her that she couldn’t wear her jumpsuits because of how often she had to pee.
“You’re Galena!” she cried, immediately reaching out and clasping both of Galena’s hands. “I’m Theo. Ilias’s sister. You’re even prettier than I imagined—what is your skin routine?”
Galena looked like a whirlwind had just hit her. She blinked, startled. “I, um… water?”
Theo gasped as if she’d confessed to a murder.
“You’re one of those natural beauties. Never mind.
” She waved a hand and sped on. “I’ve already sent you some things, but I wanted to meet you in person before designing anything for you.
I have to dress you. I’ve already sketched three ideas—no, four.
Maybe it’ll get me out of my baby clothes slump.
Unless you’re going to get preggers?” She cast a look at Galena, even as my wife’s eyes widened.
“That’d be fun. Frankie is pregnant too.
We could all have babies at the same time.
My brother is getting old. You guys should speed things up unless you don’t want kids. Totally fine.”
Theo had always babbled, doing her little info dumps that left us stunned, but this was Galena’s first time interacting with my sister.
Not to mention the whole idea of getting pregnant together, like it was some cult, that was weird.
I watched the expressions flicker across Galena’s face—confusion, then amusement, then something close to warmth. She actually laughed.
“She’s kidding,” I said under my breath.
“I’m not kidding,” Theo said loudly, sitting down at the table and plucking an olive from the bowl. “You’re old as dirt.”
“I’m not fucking old,” I grumbled. “Geez, Theo, I’m only in my thirties.” Galena leaned over and wrapped her arms around me, kissing the edges of my lips softly.
“Of course, you’re not old … much.”
Theo thought that was hilarious, and the two of them laughed at my expense. I couldn’t bring myself to get upset over anything that made Galena smile like that. She looked genuinely happy.
A final voice then entered the scene—deep and controlled. Angelo. “God help us if she’s not kidding.” He nodded at Galena, his expression solemn yet respectful. “Welcome to the madness. I’m Angelo.”
Galena nodded back as she cataloged my sister and her husband. They were completely different personalities. My sister all chaos, and Angelo the steadying rock. It totally worked. I tucked my wife closer to me. Evgenia made a disapproving noise and immediately started another pot on the stove.
“What did I do?” Angelo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re too skinny,” she snapped. “You aren’t being fed.
” She gave Theo a disapproving frown as if my sister had failed an assignment, even though we all knew that Theo wasn’t exactly a great cook.
“You all go sit down. Shoo.” She fluttered her hands at us, sending us moving towards the couches in the secondary lounge that served as a casual space off the kitchen.
There were so many places in the brownstone that I loved, but this was close to one of my favorites, just here off the kitchen, where the scents of food and the sounds of family all came together. My siblings and I had created the home we always wished we had.
When we were growing up, our house was a place of pain and secrets.
It was a place where my father would corner me and exert his control over every part of my life from my earliest memories.
It had never been a happy place for any of us.
Theo was still just a toddler when my father was at his worst during the signing of the blood oath, and it took everything in me to keep his attention on me and away from my sister.
Polina hadn’t even been born until years after the blood oath had been signed.
Thankfully, she didn’t even remember our father or that house at all.
Now, as I looked out over my family, I knew it was all worth it.
Theo was chatting with Galena as if they had known each other for years, sharing stories about pregnancy cravings and silk dye disasters.
Vaso was quietly sneaking olives, Kostas was already pulling up something on his laptop to show Angelo, and Evgenia was bustling between them all like a war general.
Theo’s comment about starting a family echoed in my mind, and now I couldn’t unhear it.
I wondered what Galena thought about it. Did she even want kids?
I leaned in close to her, speaking low so only she could hear.
“Too much? They’re all loud, and the rest of them aren’t even here.
” It had also made me think of Polina again, our sister, who we had shut out of our circle.
Galena had made me start to rethink how I was handling my relationship with her.
Maybe I’d made a mistake sending her away.
I’d been thinking I had been doing it for her own good, but maybe …
She shook her head slowly, eyes wide but soft. “It’s… nice. It feels like home.” Her hand settled on my thigh so I could feel the heat of her hand through the fabric of my pants. Her eyes flicked to mine through those lashes, soft with promise.
I didn’t say anything, but something settled in my chest. That’s what I wanted to hear. I liked that she felt that way.
I watched her interact—hesitant, still guarded, but revealing bits of herself. She showed curiosity about my siblings, listening closely when Theo mentioned her fashion line, nodding when Vaso teased me about being a control freak. But she kept glancing at me like I was a tether.
We hadn’t talked about the warehouse yet.
I didn’t push her. She would when she was ready.
If she wanted to postpone it, that was fine.
I understood that sometimes you need a little space when things aren’t easy, and killing someone leaves a mark.
Maybe she wasn’t ready to deal with it yet, but it was going to leave a scar.
I hoped it would give her the closure she needed.
I knew I didn’t feel guilt when I killed someone because I always had a reason.
I didn’t kill innocents, and Galena had no reason to lose sleep over those assholes. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t.