Chapter 30 Niko
NIKO
Itighten my grip on the steering wheel as I pull up to the gates of the Petrou compound. The security guard recognizes me immediately, giving a curt nod before the gates swing open. No driver today. I thought doing his job would help me stay focused. Clear my head before the reveal.
We'll see how that goes.
The tires of my black Bentley squeak slightly as I turn into the circular driveway. I kill the engine but don't move.
"Fuck," I say, pulling out my phone and typing quickly.
Just got here. Will let you know how it goes.
Calli's reply lights up the screen seconds later.
Good luck! Love you.
I stare at the screen for a moment longer than I should before sliding the phone back into my jacket pocket.
Time to face the music. Tell my father everything.
Well, almost everything.
I step out and adjust my jacket slightly to better conceal the Glock nestled against my ribs.
Just in case things go south. With Stavros, you never know which version of him you're going to get. The businessman or the monster who puts guns to his son's head.
The massive front doors open before I reach them. Diego, my father's most trusted servant, is there to greet me.
"Mr. Petrou," he says with a nod, "good to see you."
I nod and walk in, not fully believing him.
My footsteps tap against marble as staff nod politely, offering their rehearsed smiles, but their eyes always flick away too fast. Like they don't want to be caught staring too long.
I head straight for his office, but the doors are open and reveal an empty room. I check the dining room, the formal living room, before finally making my way to the library.
I pause outside the library doors, hearing my father's muffled voice in conversation with someone else. I didn't come this far to not go forward with my plan, so I push the door open.
There he is.
My father sits in a leather chair speaking to someone who's sitting in a chair opposite him. He's a thin man in an expensive suit whose face I don't recognize.
They both turn at my entrance, conversation halting abruptly.
Stavros holds up one finger without looking at me, continuing his conversation for another few minutes while I stand there waiting for an audience. Same power play bullshit, different day.
I move over to the window, staring out at the garden below while they finish. After a few minutes, they wrap up whatever business they were discussing. The stranger shakes my father's hand and then leaves with a nervous glance in my direction.
Stavros waves me over with the casual gesture of a king summoning a servant and points to the chair the man was just in. "Sit."
As I approach, he reaches for a wooden box on the side table. He selects a cigar and briefly examines it before clipping the end and lighting it.
Finally, with the cigar clamped between his teeth, he looks across at me. "To what do I owe the visit?"
I take the seat across from him, maintaining eye contact. It's just like my father to act as if our last meeting never happened. Like he didn't pull a gun and press it to my head. Like the threats to kill the woman I love were never spoken.
The old me would have called him out, refused to let him get away with it. But I learned long ago that approach never works. He always finds a way to twist things, to make me the one in the wrong. Over time it became easier to just let it go, focus on more important things.
Like the woman carrying my child.
I pause for a moment, then think, fuck this. Better to just say it.
"There's something you need to know."
Stavros takes a long draw from his cigar, letting the smoke curl between us like a barrier. A slight grin comes across his face. "Hard to believe we live in a world where you're telling me something I don't already know."
The arrogance in his voice makes my teeth grind, but I push through it. This isn't about wounded pride.
"Calli's pregnant," I say, leaning forward slightly, "and the baby is mine."
He turns to stone. The cigar pauses halfway to his lips, smoke drifting forgotten between his fingers, ash building at its tip. He says nothing as seconds stretch into something unbearable.
I brace myself for the explosion. My fingers slide closer to the edge of my jacket, closer to where my gun rests. This is where he loses his shit. Where he starts screaming about bloodlines and betrayal and—
He smiles.
"Well," he says, finally tapping the cigar into the ashtray, "that changes things."
I stare at him, trying to process what I'm seeing. Where's the rage? Where are the threats? This isn't the reaction I expected, and that alone puts me on edge.
He stands and moves to the bar cart in the corner and pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. He doesn't offer me one.
He takes a sip, eyes never leaving the glass.
"A child between you and a Kastaris creates new opportunities.
Not the union I imagined, mind you, but deeper alliances I'd hoped to have gained with your cousin's marriage, but that didn't materialize how I wanted.
" He nods to himself, taking another sip.
"Yes, Ares won't have a fucking choice now. "
The casual way he talks about my unborn child as a business asset makes my blood run cold, but I keep my expression neutral. "You're not angry?"
Stavros gives a false laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. "Angry? Niko, please. What's done is done. This is leverage. And soon, a legacy."
He walks to the window, gazing out, thinking. His voice remains calm, conversational, which somehow makes it more unsettling than if he were screaming.
"Do her brothers know?"
"Yes, they do," I say, my eyes scanning the room, him, for any signs of men grabbing me again.
"And you're still here." He turns back to face me. "Did they happen to say anything to you?"
I think, Yeah, that you fucking killed their dad and they want you dead for it, but I keep my expression neutral, not revealing my hand. Not yet anyway.
"Not really," I lie smoothly, rubbing the cheek Dimitri punched. "They were upset. Stunned. Calli is convinced they will come around, with the baby and all."
"And do you believe that?"
I don't answer.
He returns to his chair, settling back into the leather with the satisfaction of a man who's just been handed exactly what he wanted.
"Maybe you're not such a fuckup after all, Niko," he says, taking another drag from his cigar. "Invite her to the Gala. She's the mother of my grandchild after all. There we can make arrangements to, well, discuss how to proceed. I'm dying to speak with her now."
Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door. Diego enters. "Mr. Laius is here for his appointment, sir."
Stavros nods. "Tell him I'll be right there." He turns back to me as the man disappears. "We're done here, Niko."
This feels too easy. Why isn't he pissed?
But as I consider it, I see potential. A room full of powerful people. A chance to control the narrative. To introduce her, let everyone know she's mine. Keep Calli safe under watchful eyes.
I give a cautious nod. "Alright. We'll come." Not that he was expecting me to answer his request.
Stavros stands. "I'll tell my assistant to add two names to the guest list." He takes another drag of his cigar and presses it into the ashtray.
"See you in a few weeks."
His smile hardens into something unreadable.
"Don't be late. It's going to be a memorable night."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone in the library with the lingering scent of tobacco.
I take one last look around the room—at the walls lined with books that were chosen for their impressive spines rather than their content, at the portraits of dead Petrous whose eyes seem to follow my movement.
Something about his smile felt wrong. Too satisfied. Too knowing.
I walk out of the library, through the halls of my childhood prison, past the staff who bow their heads as I pass. The afternoon light seems harsher now, throwing everything into sharp relief.
Maybe this was the wrong call. But if it buys us time, I'll take it. I'll protect her. No matter what.
As I reach my car, I take one last look at the house. He promised it would be a memorable night, but if he does anything stupid, it'll be memorable for reasons that he'll never see coming.