Chapter 37 Katerina
KATERINA
We turn off the main street and make our way up the winding road to the tasting room. I've spent a lot of time here growing up. It was here I drew the most during the summers. My uncle always entertained guests here, so it was a lively place.
Now it's dark, cold, and quiet.
Ares and I haven't spoken since leaving the house. To be fair, Theo and he haven't spoken either. It's just the three of us riding in silence. Dimitri and a car of men are following us.
Our driver pulls up into the clubhouse and we get out. Ares and Theo look around, and I go to walk inside.
"Where are you going?" Ares asks.
I point to the doors. "Inside. It's cold out here."
I don't wait for a response and head inside. I take a seat on one of the large couches and see a ghostly image of myself just last summer, drawing the sunset, looking out the large bay windows.
A few moments later, Theo walks in, followed by Ares and Dimitri. Behind them, six men follow closely.
"This is a nice place," Dimitri says. "I think I've had this stuff."
Ares looks at me. "You have. I got a few cases when I got married."
I look away as the men and Dimitri scan the room, checking locked doors and peeking inside rooms.
I can tell just from Ares's demeanor that he's not here to talk. He's here to end something.
The thought makes me scared, but I just tell myself, If George were guilty, why meet us here?
Suddenly, headlights appear in the driveway.
Through the window, I see him stepping out of the car.
George Zervas has arrived.
He walks in flanked by a group of his own men.
"Katerina," he calls out as soon as he sees me.
"Uncle George," I say and walk over to him, giving him a hug.
He hugs me tightly, like nothing's changed. But something has. And it's not just Ares watching us, it's the part of me that wonders if I'm being played.
"Look at you. You're a spitting image of your mother," he says. "She'd be proud."
"Thank you. It's been a while," I say, stepping back and glancing over at Ares, who looks like he's going to explode.
"Yes, five or six years now. Sorry I wasn't at the wedding. I, uh…it doesn't matter anyhow."
"That's alright. I know things get hectic here."
George nods and looks over to see Ares, his brothers on either side of him.
"Yeah, so about this meeting," I say before George starts to laugh.
"Oh, Katerina, I knew it wasn't about a meet and greet. Ares and I have some things to discuss, don't we?" he asks, looking over at Ares.
"I'd say so," Ares says and walks over to us, his brothers never leaving his side.
The men George came with and the ones with us take a few steps forward, almost surrounding us.
"First, let me offer you my condolences about your father. He was a good man. I was sad to hear about him," George says and touches his heart.
"Were you?" Ares asks sternly. "Is that why you took our port in Nafplio? Because you were distraught at my father's murder?"
George smirks. "You've got the edge of your father, kid. I'll give you that."
"Answer the fucking question," Dimitri spits out.
"Dimitri!" Ares says. "Enough."
"What the fuck is this?" George asks, he himself starting to get aggressive. "I figured when I got the call from Katerina, it was you, Ares, who should have been making it. So if you've got something to say, fucking say it."
In that moment, I feel as if the air got sucked out of the room. George's comment sets all the men surrounding us on edge, some even brandishing their guns, which makes the others follow.
I take a step back—not that it would do me any good if someone started shooting. I look at George and Ares. Neither moves or blinks, just deadly focus.
"We've been looking into my father's murder. Everything we find, even one of your own men, says it was you," Ares says and steps forward. He's inches taller than George and much more in shape, but George doesn't back down. Doesn't falter.
"So," Ares continues, "Did you murder my father?"
George looks at the three Kastaris brothers, and I notice his shoulders drop.
He seems relaxed. "Your father was a good man.
But he had many enemies. I wasn't one of them," he says and steps closer to Ares, looking directly into his eyes.
"So no, I didn't kill your father. I wouldn't do something like that. "
I study George's face, searching for signs that he's lying. Sweat, nervous glances, ticks, something—anything—but there's nothing. He doesn't seem to be hiding anything.
Theo puts his hand on Ares's shoulder and steps forward. "George, why then has one of your own men claimed to have heard you order it?"
George doesn't turn away from looking at Ares. "I don't know. Tell me his name and I'll remove him off the face of this earth for lying tonight."
"I don't know if I believe you," Ares says as his hand moves to his gun. I can see the rage in his eyes, the blind revenge starting to creep in and overthrow his logic and push forward the desire to just make someone—anyone—pay.
"If he's lying, then why hasn't he tried to kill us yet?" I say out loud, forcing the words out of my chest. "I mean, shit, why even meet with us, huh?"
"Because of you," Dimitri says.
"Come on, he knew there was more. He knew this was going to happen. Ares, even you can admit that," I say.
"Katerina, you've become quite the diplomat," George says. "But it's true. What do you have, Ares? What proof? The port? Huh? Here," he says and reaches into his pocket.
Dimitri pulls out his gun, followed by Theo and everyone surrounding us.
"Calm the fuck down!" George yells to his men as he pulls out a piece of paper.
"Lower your guns," Ares commands.
"Here, look at this," George says and hands Ares the paper.
Ares finally breaks his gaze with George and looks down and unfolds it.
"What is it?" Theo asks.
Ares doesn't respond—he just reads it, then takes a step back.
"You think your father's murder ends with me? You're not ready for what's coming," he says and rubs his face. "And I don't think I am either."
Ares looks at him and then hands the note to Theo.
"When did he give this to you?"
"About three months before he died. He was in town with Calli and asked to meet with me. I was surprised. Me and your father, we weren't friends per se, but we handled business with respect and we respected one another."
"Is this real?" Theo asks Ares as Dimitri rips the paper out of Theo's hand.
"That's his handwriting and signature. I'm sure of it," Ares says.
"Yeah, this is Dad's for sure," Dimitri says. "Fuck. This is fucking crazy."
Now I desperately want to know what the letter says, but I can't just ask. I do kind of feel a bit of relief. It seems my gut was right—George couldn't have done this.
"Did he tell you why he wanted this?" Ares asks, his posture now relaxing too, thank God.
George shakes his head from side to side. "No. Just that he was working on something but wasn't ready to tell the full story. But with the honor of the old ways, if anything happens to him, I should just follow the directions in that letter to help his family."
"Help us?" I blurt out, unable to hold the words back.
George turns to me. "Yes. I don't know how or why, but that's what he said to me and giving him my word, that's what I did," he says and turns back to Ares.
"Honestly, I didn't think anything of it at the time.
I mean, your father was respected by all the families and was fair with things.
I never could have imagined something would happen to him. "
"And he didn't mention what he was working on? Nothing?" Theo asks.
"No. Honestly, I was hoping this meeting would fill me in, but I don't think you know either.
Dammit," George says and paces. "I don't know who to trust anymore.
Everything's gone to shit with Vasilis's murder.
Greece is unstable. Factions rising up, families' loyalties are being tested. It's a fucking mess."
"Maybe we need to discuss where we're at. Come together on things," Ares says. "If my father came to you, it must have been for a reason, and I won't question his motives."
George extends his hand. "I welcome it, friend."
As Ares's hand extends toward George's, I feel the air shift into something that doesn't feel right.
A deafening sound splits the air.
The noise reverberates through my chest before my mind even registers what it is.
A gunshot.
But not from any of us. Not from Zervas. Not from Ares's men.
"Shit. I'm hit. Motherfucker!" Dimitri yells, his voice coming through the ringing in my ears. He stumbles backward, his face scrunched from pain, and blood is pouring down his arm.
Before I can even process what's happening, the room plunges into darkness, leaving only faint moonlight coming in through the windows.
Chaos erupts.
"Get down!" Ares roars.
Bodies collide in the dark. The sound of furniture scraping across the floor, glass shattering. More gunshots.
"Secure the exits!" George shouts to his men.
I drop to my knees, my heart feeling like it's going to beat out of my chest. My hands fumble along the floor, searching for cover.
"Katerina!" Ares yells, his voice sounding desperate and raw.
"I'm here!" I try to shout, but even I don't know where here is in the confusion.
"Get to Ares!" a man's voice yells.
Someone crashes into me, knocking me to the ground. An elbow connects with my temple, stars bursting behind my eyelids.
Heavy footsteps thunder past. More shots. A man screams—I don't recognize the voice.
"Theo, find Dimitri! Get him out!" Ares commands from somewhere to my right.
I push myself up on all fours, disoriented. The faint outline of the bay windows gives me a reference point. If I can make it there, I know there's a door next to it.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder from behind—violent and unforgiving. Before I can scream, another hand presses something over my nose and mouth. A cloth. And it's wet.
I thrash wildly, my elbow connecting with something solid. A grunt of pain. The grip loosens for just a moment.
"Ares!" I scream over the gunfire, but my voice is too muffled by the cloth. I don't think he hears me.
I kick backward, connecting with a shin. My attacker curses but doesn't let go.
The cloth presses harder. I can't breathe. My lungs burn. Whatever is on this rag is starting to make my head swim.
"Την ?χουμε, Την ?χουμε," an unfamiliar voice hisses close to my ear in Greek.
We have her?
Who has me? What the hell is going on?
My fingers claw at the hand holding the cloth, digging my nails into their skin. I feel like I've drawn blood, but the grip doesn't falter.
"Katerina!" Ares's voice sounds farther away now. Or is it just the ringing in my ears?
Another pair of hands grabs my kicking legs. My body is lifted, my struggles growing weaker as the chemical on the cloth does its work.
The world begins to blur and my limbs start to feel heavy—so heavy that I can't move them.
Still, I fight. I bite down on the cloth, on the fingers beneath. I taste blood and fabric and that sickening chemical. My attacker swears but doesn't release me.
"Φ?γε! Go, go!" another voice commands.
I'm being carried and suddenly I'm outside. My eyelids flutter, fighting to stay open.
Behind us, I hear Ares's voice, "KATERINA!"
I try to respond. Try to talk. But I can't.
It's too late.
I'm thrown into what feels like a vehicle trunk. The impact knocks what little breath I have from my lungs. I try to scream, but only a weak moan escapes.
A door slams. An engine roars to life.
Darkness swallows me whole and I realize that If I die tonight, it won't be because I trusted the wrong man. It'll be because I doubted the right one.
The last thing I hear is gunfire and Ares screaming my name as we speed away.
And then… nothing.