Chapter 24 Niko
NIKO
Ipace the marble floors of the Roman suite like a trapped animal. I barely register anything. All I see is her face when she left, that blank, hollow look that wasn't Calli at all.
I check my phone again. Still nothing. No response. No missed calls. Nothing from her.
"Fuck," I say, scrolling back through our messages.
There's the photo she sent the night before our trip here. It's her reflection in the bathroom mirror, wearing nothing but a towel, wet hair over her right shoulder, smiling. One more day, she'd written.
Another from last week. A selfie in the necklace I gave her, her eyes dark with desire. Wearing this and thinking of you.
Calli, what the fuck is going on?
Send.
Nothing.
My thumb hovers over the send button before I press it. Perhaps I'm being too harsh, but the confusion is curdling into anger now. If something happened to one of her brothers and she had to leave, I'd understand. But this feels different than that.
Straight to voicemail.
Shit.
Anger has me questioning why she left when I told her I loved her, so I text that to her. Then that love wins and I tell her she's mine and give her the final ultimatum. She either calls me or I'm fucking coming to her. Her brothers can kill me if they want.
I drop into one of the armchairs, staring down at the phone like I can force it to light up.
When the hell did I start acting like this? So conflicted with my emotions, so crazy?
Since her. Always since her.
Fuck!
What changed? What could have possibly happened in those few minutes to make her leave? And it's all down to that damn call, something someone said to her.
"Goddammit." I rub my forehead, trying not to punch the wall.
If her brothers found out about us, they would have come for her, for me even, not called her away.
No, something else is at play. Something I don't know.
I check the time. If she'd gone straight to the airport, she'd be boarding, or even up in the air right now. Maybe she'll see the messages when she lands.
Or maybe she's already blocking me out.
Either way, I can't stay here. It's all tainted now.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
By the time I land in Athens, my resolve has hardened. I'll find her. I'll fix whatever's broken. I'll bring her back to me, even if I have to tear down the walls between our families to do it.
But first, I need to figure out how while keeping us alive.
The car meets me at the private airstrip. As we drive through the city toward my penthouse, I notice a black SUV following at a discreet distance. One of my father's.
I turn to my driver. "When did my father assign extra security?"
He hesitates, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. "Yesterday, sir."
Yesterday. While I was still in Rome with Calli.
"Did he say why?"
"No, sir."
When we pull up to my building, I notice another of my father's men standing near the entrance. He nods as I pass, eyes tracking my movement. There's another in the lobby.
Something's off.
This isn't security. This is surveillance.
I get inside and everything looks as I left it. I pour myself a strong glass of whiskey and walk to the window, staring out at the city. Somewhere across the ocean is Calli, silent and unreachable. And here in Athens, my father's men now seem to be watching my every move.
The pieces don't fit together yet, my father's men, Calli's sudden departure. The timing is too perfect to be coincidence.
I down the drink, hoping for a stronger burn than it gives me.
If my father is involved somehow…
I pull out my phone and try Calli again. Voicemail.
"I'm back in Greece," I say after the beep. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm going to find out. If you're in trouble, if someone's threatening you, I'll fix it. Just... call me."
I hang up and can't shake it now. Every instinct in me says she's not safe. That whatever pulled her away from Rome had nothing to do with her wanting to leave me.
Could my father have had someone watching us? Could he have sent word to her? Forced her to leave?
The thought sends a cold rage through me, but I push it down. I need clarity, not emotion.
I could get on a plane to Chicago. Just show up. Find her myself. It would be a bold move, one that could put me and maybe her at risk, but the alternative, this spiraling torture of silence, is becoming unbearable.
The image of my father calling Calli, speaking to her in that cold, calculated way he has, makes my blood boil. She would have been terrified. She would have run.
The anger burns hot in my gut again, curling tighter until I can barely sit still.
No.
I'm not just going to sit here wondering.
I'll pay him a visit.
Feel him out.
See if I can get anything, a slip, a tell, a hint that he's behind this.
And if I find out he's behind this?
He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet.