Chapter 7 Katerina
KATERINA
Iwalk upstairs slowly, my mind going over everything I've observed since arriving.
The staff has dispersed for the evening. There is security outside, but for the first time since my wedding, I feel the absence of eyes on me.
In his bedroom, I slip out of the black dress. I open drawers until I find what I'm looking for—casual clothes that will let me blend in, disappear. A simple gray T-shirt, blue jeans, a black coat. I pull them on quickly.
I continue scanning around the enormous closet until I find a pair of running shoes. They're not my style, but they'll do. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and wipe off the mascara and lip balm.
I listen at the bedroom door for a moment, then slip into the hallway. Living with my uncle taught me how to move silently, how to make myself invisible, sneak in and out without raising alarms.
I reach the grand staircase and descend quickly, listening for any sign of staff. When I reach the ground floor, I pause, holding my breath. Nothing. I move toward the front of the house, keeping close to the wall.
I remember walking in and seeing the hooks with the keys by the front door, so that's where I'm headed.
I run my hands over the several sets of car keys hanging neatly, labeled. I take one without thinking too much about it—a silver key fob.
Ares has so many cars, surely he won't notice one missing for a few hours.
I slip outside. The cool night air mixed with my adrenaline makes me shake.
The security booth is positioned near the gate, but there's a row of cars parked along the circular driveway.
I crouch low and move between them, pressing the key fob repeatedly until I hear a soft beep and see lights flash on a sleek black Audi.
My heart pounds as I slide into the driver's seat.
I smile.
The leather is cool against my palms as I grip the steering wheel. I press a button, and the car comes to life. The dashboard lights up blue, and the heater kicks on. For a moment, I just sit there, taking in Ares's scent that comes through the vents.
I put the car in drive and move slowly down the driveway. As I approach the gate, a guard steps out from the booth, his hand raised. I lower the window and give him my most confident smile. I learned from my uncle's guards that if you talk with confidence, people tend to believe you.
"Mrs. Kastaris," he says, surprise evident in his voice. "I wasn't aware you were going out tonight."
"Last-minute errand," I reply, the lie sliding easily from my lips.
The guard hesitates, his eyes darting between me and the security booth. I can see the calculation happening behind his eyes: question the boss's new wife or let her pass?
"Excuse me, Niko, is it?" I see his name badge. "Feminine items aren't well equipped in this house. My silly husband wasn't prepared, I guess. Mr. Kastaris said it was fine. I'll be back shortly."
I look forward, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He's a statue for a few seconds and then shifts.
"Of course, ma'am. Just a moment."
He returns to the booth, and the iron gates begin to swing open. I give him a small wave as I drive through, trying to appear casual while I'm kind of freaking out that it's working.
Once past the gates, I resist the urge to floor the accelerator. Instead, I drive normally until I'm several blocks away, then pull over to catch my breath and consider where to go.
I'm not running away. I'm not stupid enough to think I could escape Ares Kastaris. This isn't an escape attempt; it's just a moment of freedom. A chance to breathe air that isn't heavy with expectation and watchful eyes.
I bring up the GPS and select the first thing I see that'll take me downtown—Navy Pier.
I pull back onto the road, heading toward the lights of downtown Chicago. The city sprawls before me, endless possibilities. I've gone from one prison to another, my uncle's house to my husband's mansion, but tonight, just for a few hours, I'm no one's property.
I'm free, and on that note—
I slide the windows down a bit, letting the night air rush through the car. As my hair whips around, I feel something crack open inside me. A small smile tugs at my lips as I accelerate onto the highway. The speedometer climbs—60, 70, 80—and I laugh, a sound that I don't even hear often.
Wind roars through the windows, drowning out my thoughts. Music spills from the radio, something with a heavy beat that pulses through me. I turn it up louder, letting it fill the spaces inside me that have been hollow for so long.
When I get into the city, I take the first parking spot I see near the water and grab the $100 bill I see in the cup holder.
Lucky me.
I get out and start walking along the shore.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm actually inhabiting my body instead of floating somewhere above it, watching myself go through the motions.
I feel the wind coming off the water. It's cold and fresh.
I hear the cars honking, sirens in the distance. It's so loud, and yet, I love it.
I sit on a bench and stare out into the darkness.
I spread my arms and let the wind pass. I almost feel weightless. I look up at the night sky. You can't see as many stars as back in Kalamata, but the ones I do see make me smile.
I'm almost positive if someone were to walk by right now, they'd think I'm crazy, but I don't care.
They don't know all that I've gone through just to have a moment here on this bench.
I get up and start walking.
I'm not naive. I know I can't stay here forever. I know Ares will be furious when he discovers I've left. I know there will be consequences. But right now, I don't care. Right now, I'm just a woman walking along Navy Pier—no one's wife, no one's niece, no one's property.
The city pulses around me like a living thing. Street performers perform on corners for the nighttime crowds, tourists stumble around, and couples walk hand in hand. I follow the scent of food to a small pizzeria with a faded awning. Inside, it's warm and smells of garlic and tomato sauce.
"Slice of deep dish?" asks the man behind the counter.
I nod, suddenly realizing I'm still hungry. When he hands me the pizza on a paper plate, I can't believe how big it is. Cheese stretches in strings as I take my first bite.
Oh my god, it's delicious.
It's messy and indulgent and nothing like the refined meals served at my uncle's or Ares's mansion. I eat standing up, grease on my fingers, watching people through the window.
This is life. Real life. Not the carefully controlled environment I've been kept in.
I wipe my hands on too-thin paper napkins and continue walking, letting my feet guide me. Thoughts enter my mind, but I push them all out. They'll be there later. Right now, I just want peace. And this small taste of freedom I've stolen for myself.
As I continue exploring, I hear music from an open door—a dark jazz club with neon lights. The bass pulses, vibrating in my chest. People laugh inside, clinking glasses, dancing without a care.
For a moment, I stand there, imagining stepping inside, losing myself in the crowd, in the rhythm. What would it be like to just exist? To dance without thinking about who might be watching?
I hesitate at the entrance, telling myself one drink won't hurt. One dance. Just twenty more minutes where I'm nobody and everybody at once. The bouncer nods at me, gesturing me in. I take a step forward.
I'm halfway through the door when I feel the air shift behind me.
Before I can turn, a strong hand clamps around my arm, pulling me back into what feels like a brick wall. I stumble, losing my footing, but he doesn't let me fall.
It's Ares.
I flinch because his fingers dig into my right side. Not there. Never there. The panic is immediate. I strike his hand away with more force than I intended, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.
"Don't touch me there," I hiss.
He looks at me for a moment and then forces me around the building into a dark alley.
Ares's expression shifts, just slightly, before his hand moves to my throat instead. He pushes me back against the wall, caging me in with his body.
"You really think I wouldn't find you?" His voice is firm.
I say nothing. What is there to say? Of course he found me. I suppose deep down I never truly believed I could slip away unnoticed. I just needed something. Anything.
"Do you have any idea what's happening right now?" His grip tightens—not enough to cut off my air, just enough to remind me he could. "With my father's murder. It's too dangerous to go out alone. You have a death wish, Katerina?"
Truth is, death doesn't scare me. It never has, not since I woke up to flames at fourteen. Now, I wake up to them every day, but they don't burn like real ones.
But what I notice is maybe Ares has his own fire to fight, because I see something behind his eyes now. Something raw.
He isn't just furious. He's afraid.
The realization jolts through me. Ares Kastaris, afraid? Not for himself—no, that doesn't fit. For me? The thought is so absurd that it can't be it either. Could it?
"I don't care if I live or die, Ares. That's the difference between us." The words fall from my lips, honest in their simplicity.
His hands shift to my jaw, and he forces me to keep looking at him. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, the gesture strangely intimate despite it being an accident, I'm sure.
"You will care," he says. "If I have to make you."
The alley goes silent except for our breathing. His chest rises and falls against mine, our bodies pressed together in this strange, tense moment. It's cold, and he feels warm.
"Why do you care? Huh? I'm just a transaction. A way to secure whatever it is you wanted."
He doesn't move.
"You're my wife."
"In name only," I counter.
"For now," he says, not breaking his eye contact with me, and the promise in those words hangs between us like smoke.
I feel his warm breath on my face. His thumb traces the line of my jaw as his hard body pins me to the wall.
"Did you think of running?" he asks, his voice dropping lower.
"No," I say truthfully. "I just wanted to breathe."
Something in his expression changes. His grip loosens, but he doesn't step away. If anything, he presses closer, one hand braced on the wall beside my head.
"You could have asked," he says.
I scoff. "Would you have let me go?"
"No." At least he's honest. "Not alone."
"Then I didn't need to ask."
His eyes narrow, studying me with that penetrating gaze that makes me feel like he's trying to pry me open and see inside.
"You're reckless," he says finally.
"Reckless to want to live my life?"
Again, that flicker in his eyes.
"You're no longer just living your life. Have you thought about how getting yourself put in danger puts our whole family in danger? Don't you care about anyone besides yourself?"
I hear his words, and they have a stronger effect on me than I thought. I've been trying to survive for so long that maybe I have been a little selfish.
But I have every right to be.
"Now I'm back in my cage."
His jaw tightens. "It's not a cage, Katerina. It's protection."
"A big house with fancy things is still a cage, Ares."
"Better caged and alive than free and dead," he says sharply.
I laugh. "Is it? I'm not so sure."
"My father was murdered," he says. "Someone walked right up and put a bullet in his head. You think they won't do the same to you? To hurt me?"
"Why would hurting me hurt you?" I ask.
His eyes darken. "Because this is the world we live in."
"Look, my entire family was murdered, Ares. I'm sorry you're experiencing something of what I went through years ago, but it comes with being born into the mafia. At least that's what everyone's always told me."
I realize after the words leave my mouth how insensitive they sound, but I can't take them back now.
"This is why you, more than anyone, should understand the situation and not want to put our lives in jeopardy. I thought you'd understand, but it seems I've been wrong about you since the beginning."
"Maybe you have been," I say.
"Look, from the moment you said 'I do,' you became a Kastaris. My wife. Mine to protect. Mine to keep safe."
"I don't need—"
"You do," he cuts me off. "You have no idea what's happening right now. The threats against my family. Against me. Against you, by extension."
"So tell me," I challenge.
He studies me for a long moment, then shakes his head. "No."
Instead, he takes my hand—my left hand—staying away from my right side. I notice. He listened.
Before he turns to lead me away, he brushes the dirt off my sleeve where I'd hit the wall.
It's barely a touch. Just enough to make me hyperaware of him.
Just enough to remind me he sees everything.
"We're going home," he says.
As he leads me from the alley, I feel something. The emotion of finally being known.
Because in that alley, pinned between Ares and the wall, I was able to speak more clearly about how I feel than I have in years.
I don't know how I feel about Ares Kastaris in this moment. All I do know is that something about him is bringing out feelings in me that I thought went away years ago.