Chapter 20 Athena
ATHENA
The sun is just coming up when our car rolls to a stop outside a small convenience store, just as we get into Piraeus.
Dimitri turns the engine off and looks around.
"Here?" I ask, voice scratchy from hours of silence and adrenaline.
"Not staying," he says, pushing the door open and grabbing his bag. "Just ditching the car. Stay here real quick."
He leaves the keys in the ignition and walks over to a group of taxi drivers who are outside smoking and drinking coffee.
After some back and forth, and what looks like way too much money, he waves me over.
He opens the back door for me and I slide in. He comes in behind me.
The taxi drives us into a neighborhood I don't recognize. I watch as we turn into a gated lane bordered by towering trees.
The taxi slows as we approach a gate, its wrought iron design twisting and curling up like frozen black smoke. Dimitri pays the driver more money and nudges me out. The cab backs up and peels away, leaving us standing in front of what looks like a small palace.
"This is your family home?" I say, staring up at the beautiful white stone facade.
"One of them," Dimitri says, punching a code into a keypad. The gate clicks and swings inward. "Wait here."
"What? Why?"
"I need to check the grounds."
I open my mouth to protest, but he's already moving down the path with his gun drawn, disappearing into the shadows cast by towering trees.
I stand alone, arms wrapped around myself, half-expecting another attack. Every rustle of leaves makes me tense. I've never felt so exposed, or so alive. My skin buzzes with nerves and adrenaline.
Dimitri finally returns, holstering his weapon. "Okay. Come on."
I follow him up the winding path to a massive wooden door. He pulls out a key from his pocket, turning it in the lock.
"No alarm system?" I ask.
He smiles. "Several, but I've disabled them."
The door swings open to reveal a foyer with marble floors. I step inside, admiring the high ceilings and elegant furnishings.
"This is..." I trail off, taking in everything.
"Home," he finishes, shutting the door behind us. "At least for now."
Photographs line the walls. Dozens of them. Along the stairs. On the tables. Some framed in gold, others in silver or black.
I see a boy with too-serious eyes and bruised knuckles. Three siblings standing shoulder to shoulder, flanked by their father. Another photo has Dimitri with Theo and Ares, arms around each other, standing behind Calli, looking like they'd kill anyone who looked at her wrong.
Then one photo stops me completely: Dimitri, no older than sixteen, sitting on a low wall with a woman behind him. Her hand rests on his shoulder. She's laughing, and he's got the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face.
I look up.
Above the staircase, centered like a shrine, is a large portrait of her. She's stunning. Regal. Not the kind of woman who tried to be soft, but the kind who was naturally captivating.
"Who's that?" I ask looking at it.
Dimitri glances up. "My mother," he says. "Her name was Eleni."
I blink.
Eleni.
It hits me all at once. The small cross tattooed on his neck, it has her name.
"She was beautiful," I say. "You look like her. Around the eyes."
He doesn't speak for a moment. Just stares up at the portrait.
"The hardest day of my life was watching her leave this world," he says and turns to me.
"Breast cancer. Took her fast. She didn't want treatment.
Said it was her body, her choice. We respected that at the time.
Now..." he pauses and shakes his head, "Maybe we should have pushed her more.
I don't know. None of us were ever the same after she died. "
Something cracks inside me at the rawness of his words.
I think of my own mother, tragic in her own way. How different would my life have been if she'd stayed? If she'd been stronger than her grief?
"I'm sorry," I say, because there's nothing else to say.
Dimitri shrugs, the moment of openness passing. "This way," he says, starting up the stairs. "You need to get cleaned up."
I follow him up and down a hallway and into a bedroom that feels both luxurious and unused, a guest room, clearly, with its pristine bedding and lack of any personal touches.
"Shower's through there," he says, nodding toward a door. "I'll find you something to wear from Calli's closet. She won't miss it."
"You sure your sister won't mind? I mean, I don't want to give any of your siblings any more ammo to hate me."
He smiles. "No, it's fine. I'll be just down the hall. I need to shower too. And call my brothers."
I wonder what he'll tell them. That he's bringing home a woman who tried to kill him? That he's protecting the daughter of the man who helped murder their father?
Maybe I can do something, prove my worth before they meet me.
"Dimitri," I call before he can leave. He pauses in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. "Was there anything you took from my father's house after you... after what happened?"
His eyes narrow slightly. "Yes. A phone, some papers. A computer."
I swallow hard. "Could I see them? Maybe I can help. I spent a few summers working as a paid intern for his Spartan Holding company. It was his way of giving me money I guess. He hardly spoke to me in person while there, but I know a little about things."
He studies me for a long moment, assessing. I hold my breath.
"Okay," he says finally. "I stashed them here. There's nothing on there we've already looked but I'll get them while you're showering."
I nod and smile, and he shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone in the silent room.
The bathroom is all marble and spotless glass. I turn on the shower, letting steam fill the space while I peel off my filthy clothes.
My reflection in the mirror is a stranger's; wild-eyed, bruised, with tangled hair and blood that isn't mine dried on my skin.
I step under the hot water and watch as dirt and blood swirl down the drain. I grab the soap and scrub until my skin feels raw, as if I could wash away the last few days, the revelations, the betrayal, the violence.
My mind goes over everything, what I thought, what Dimitri told me about Cosmo, and then suddenly, I start crying.
Not for my father, the man who never claimed me, who left my mother to waste away in luxurious isolation. And not for myself and all I've lost.
I cry for her.
For Isadora, my mother, who died believing in a lie.
Who spent her life loving a man who kept her hidden away like a shameful secret, when he was the one carrying terrible secrets. Who taught me that beauty was power because she didn't know any other kind.
"Make them want you before they forget you," she used to tell me over and over.
But Cosmo forgot her anyway, and me too, probably. And now I'm standing in the shower of both his killer and his executioner for what he'd done.
I press my forehead against the tile and let the sobs rack my body, released at last into the rushing water where no one can hear them. Where Dimitri can't see this weakness.
By the time I shut off the water, my eyes are swollen, but my chest feels lighter. I wrap myself in a thick towel and step back into the bedroom.
On the bed lies a pile of clothes, two different colored leggings, a few shirts, a soft gray sweater, and a few pairs of underwear with the tags still on. Beside them is a laptop and a manila folder stuffed with papers.
I dress quickly, picking the black leggings and a white V-neck shirt. The clothes fit well enough. Calli must be close to my size; I'm just a bit taller.
I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the folder toward me. Inside are financial statements, contract drafts, and what looks like coded correspondence, all bearing my father's familiar signature. I lift the computer, running my fingers over the keyboard.
His hands touched these keys. Strange, how little that means to me now.
I press the power button and it turns on.
Alright. Let's see what I can find. Discover what she never could, how wrong she was about him, about everything.