Chapter 14 Katerina
KATERINA
Islide into the passenger side of a black Bentley with cream interior. Ares shuts my door and walks around to the driver's side. There's a car full of men behind us who will act as guests this evening and blend in among others at the opening.
Tonight, a museum in Chicago's Greek Town is opening the Kastaris wing. Set in motion by his father. Theo and Calli are meeting us there. Dimitri is in Greece, so he's obviously missing the event.
Ares gets in the car and starts it. He looks so handsome.
He's wearing an all-black fitted tux, complete with a bowtie, which is actually my favorite part about his outfit.
Actually, my favorite part is knowing firsthand what's under all that.
I can't help but think he looks a bit like a model. I mean, when I saw his 6-foot-4 frame walking toward me, he might as well have jumped out of a magazine.
The most ironic thing of all this is that when he greeted me, he told me I was the beautiful one.
Never been good at taking compliments, but I took his and locked it up deep in my chest.
As we drive, Ares breaks the silence.
"I hate events like this, but this one's important to the family."
I turn slightly to look at him. His profile is sharp, all angles and shadows in the dim light of the car.
"Why is it so important?" I ask.
"My father started this project years ago. It's the largest collection of Greek antiquities in North America," he says. "One hundred million in artifacts, all authenticated. Everything from ancient pottery to marble statues."
"He sounds like he had a passion for it," I say.
Ares's jaw tightens. "Yes. He had a passion for keeping our history alive and showing the world what Greeks have done," he says and smiles with pride.
I nod, unsure what to say. There's still so much I don't know about Ares's father.
"There are some beautiful pieces there. I think you'll like it," he says and turns to me, "though you'd rival their beauty."
I look down at my emerald dress, the fabric catching the light as we pass under street lamps.
"Are you trying to charm me, Mr. Kastaris?"
"Depends. Is it working?"
We arrive at the museum, and I see spotlights illuminating the building. A red carpet stretches from the curb to the entrance, and photographers line both sides. I feel a flutter of anxiety in my chest.
"Are those for us?" I ask, nodding toward the cameras.
"For the event, really," Ares says. "But I'm sure they'll want some photos of us. The new wing's got our last name on it, after all."
Our last name.
I can't even begin to comprehend taking even the tiniest amount of credit for something like this.
He pulls up to the curb where a valet waits to open Ares's door. Before the valet can reach mine, Ares is there, offering his hand. I take it, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine as I step out. Flashes pop immediately, and I blink against the sudden light, gripping his hand.
Ares doesn't let go.
He places his free hand on the small of my back, guiding me up the red carpet. After a few moments, I steady myself and release my grip from his hand. He leans close to my ear.
"Just smile and keep walking," he says. "They're harmless."
I do as he says, smiling slightly as we make our way inside.
The museum's main hall is transformed for the event—soft lighting, classical music played by a small orchestra, waitstaff circulating with champagne and hors d'oeuvres.
And while it's a little tacky, I find it amusing that they even have some actors dressed up as Plato and Socrates making their way around the room.
As we make our way through the crowd, I quickly notice how women look at Ares. And why wouldn't they? His tall frame makes him stand out in any crowd, and in that tuxedo, he's the one who will rival the art.
He's also the guest of honor, so numerous people approach us, wanting to meet him, thank him, and even congratulate him, which I can tell he's unsure how to handle.
I don't feel jealous per se. No, I won't admit that.
But I make sure to stay by his side, my hand resting lightly on his arm when we stop to speak with someone.
When a particularly beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair and a dress that leaves little to the imagination approaches, I find myself stepping closer to Ares.
He does a very good job of introducing me as his wife, and depending on who we talk to, he'll sometimes say it more formally—Mrs. Kastaris.
"Oh, there's Theo and Calli," Ares says, nodding toward the entrance where his siblings have just arrived.
Calli looks stunning in a deep red gown that hugs her curves, her dark hair swept up in an elegant style. Theo is handsome as always in a charcoal suit, his expression alert as he scans the room. Always on guard.
Before we can make our way to them, another couple approaches us. The man is tall, though not as tall as Ares, with olive skin and warm brown eyes. The woman beside him is striking with flowing hair and a white gown that contrasts beautifully with her complexion.
Ares's face transforms as he sees them, a genuine smile replacing his polite public one.
"Gio," he says warmly, embracing the man. "I didn't know you were back in town."
"Last night," Gio replies, clapping Ares on the back.
"Of course. We wouldn't miss this," the woman says as she steps forward to hug Ares.
Ares turns to me. "Katerina, this is Gio Bonventi and his wife, Raven. Gio, Raven, this is my wife, Katerina."
"A pleasure," Gio says, taking my hand and kissing it lightly. "Having missed the wedding, we knew we needed to make it here to see the beautiful couple in action. I hope you received our gift," he says and winks at Ares, who shoots him a look.
"Oh yes, we'll talk about that later."
I have no idea what they're referring to, but it sounds like they go way back to be so informal.
Raven smiles at me, her eyes kind. "Don't mind them. They're always messing with each other about something," she says and gently touches my arm and laughs.
I'm guessing Gio's in the mafia too, or at least knows about arranged weddings, because he doesn't seem too shocked that his close friend has a new wife out of the blue.
"So," Gio says, looking around, "Congratulations on what your father accomplished here. Vasilis would be proud."
"It's all him," Ares says, a hint of something I can't quite identify in his voice. "This was his passion project for the last five years."
"Well, he had incredible taste," Raven says. "I've never seen such a comprehensive collection outside of Athens."
"Well look, we won't keep you. It's your family's night, so go enjoy it," Gio says, and turns to me, "Very nice to meet you, Katerina. If he ever gets out of line, give me a call," he says, laughing and hitting Ares gently in the chest.
"Let's catch up now that you're back. Dinner next week maybe?" Ares says.
"Absolutely," Gio says.
Raven and I say goodbye, and I watch as they walk away.
"They seem nice," I say, turning to Ares.
"Gio is one of the few people I trust completely," Ares says quietly. "We've known each other since we were boys."
"So is he part of the mafia too?"
He nods. "The Bonventis are our greatest ally here. You'll see more of them."
Before I can ask more, the museum director approaches, asking Ares to join him for the official ribbon-cutting.
"Will you be all right for a few minutes?" Ares asks me.
"I'll be fine," I assure him. "Go."
As he walks away with the director, I take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and look around the crowded room. I spot Calli making her way toward me, a mischievous smile on her face.
"So," she says when she reaches me, "how are you enjoying this?"
I take a sip of champagne. "It's nice. Are you not going to cut the ribbon?"
Calli laughs. "God no. I don't like doing those things. Theo does, so he'll join Ares. Besides," she says and takes a sip of her wine, "who'd keep you company?"
We watch the ribbon-cutting ceremony, and Ares points to us before cutting for acknowledgment. It's a nice gesture.
The room erupts and breaks into conversations as guests start making their way into the new wing.
"They're all looking at him," Calli says, nodding toward a group of women nearby who are not-so-subtly watching Ares. "But I'm noticing that he only has eyes for you."
I follow her gaze to find Ares looking directly at me, even as he continues his conversation. When our eyes meet, something shifts in his expression—a softening around the edges.
"I should probably go back to him," I say, feeling heat rise to my cheeks under his intense gaze.
Calli grins. "Yes, you probably should."
I make my way over to Ares, seemingly drawn to him like a moth to flame as I move through the crowd.
He's finally free from the director and stands with Theo, both of them commanding attention without even trying.
As I approach, Ares extends his hand toward me, his eyes never leaving mine.
I slip my hand into his, and he draws me to his side.
"Ready to see the collection?" he asks.
I nod, actually curious about the artifacts. "Yes, I'd like that."
But before we can turn toward the exhibit, a man appears in front of us. He's shorter than Ares, with slicked-back hair and a smile that looks forced.
"Kastaris," he says, extending his hand. "Quite the event. Your father certainly knew how to spend money."
Ares shakes his hand, but I feel his body tense beside me. "Sammy. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Couldn't miss it," Sammy says, his eyes sliding to me. "And who's this lovely creature?"
"My wife, Katerina," Ares says, short and firm.
Sammy raises an eyebrow. "Wife? That was fast. You didn't waste any time after your father's death, did you? Taking control of the family business, getting married. Hell, one might think you were eager for Vasilis to die."
The air between us turns cold. I feel Ares's muscles coil like a predator preparing to strike. His free hand curls into a fist at his side, and I know he's seconds away from doing something that will create a scene.
Without thinking, I squeeze his arm gently and step slightly forward.
"Sammy, is it?" I say, my voice sweet but my eyes hard as steel. "How fortunate that you could attend tonight. It must be refreshing to see how real power operates—quietly, with class, rather than through cheap provocations and cowardly jabs."
I feel Ares shift beside me, his surprise evident in the slight loosening of his grip.
"But then," I continue before Sammy can respond, "not everyone has the capacity to understand the difference between strength and noise. My husband certainly does. Perhaps that's why he's here hosting, and you're just attending."
Sammy's face darkens, a flush creeping up his neck. He looks from me to Ares, clearly reassessing the situation.
"You found yourself quite the mouthpiece, Kastaris," he says, his eyes traveling down my body in a deliberate, insulting assessment.
Ares moves so fast I barely register it. He doesn't touch him, but he steps forward, towering over the smaller man, his voice dropping to a deadly quiet that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
"Look at my wife that way again," he says, each word like ice. "And I'll make sure you lose the ability to see anything at all."
Sammy swallows, his bravado disappearing under Ares's stare. He scoffs, nods once, and then turns and walks away, his shoulders stiff.
The moment he's gone, Ares turns to me, his expression unreadable. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," I say simply, "but you've earned some of my loyalty, so in return, you get a taste of what I bring."
He studies my face for a long moment.
"Careful, Katerina. Keep talking like that, and I might think you actually give a damn."
I smile. "Just remember. Maybe I do."
He smiles, and then offers his arm again. "Well then, my wife, let's go see those artifacts."