Chapter 35 Calli
CALLI
The water between Kosta and Spetses is calm as our boat cuts through it. The breeze off the sea should make me cold, but my nerves are keeping me warm. Because in less than an hour, I'll be standing in the same room as the man who murdered my father, and I plan to do something about it.
Niko sits beside me in the boat, wearing an all-black suit that makes him look incredibly handsome.
"You look…" He exhales. "Fucking unreal."
I glance down at the red dress I chose for tonight. Tastefully sexy, high slit, plunging neckline.
"Thank you," I say softly, trying not to think about the vial that's waiting for me across the water. "I love these," I add, brushing my hair back to show off the diamond earrings Niko gave me just an hour ago.
"I'm glad," he says and kisses me.
The boat slows as we approach the dock. I count at least four security guards standing at the end of it, and two more pacing.
"Ready?" he asks, offering his arm.
I place my hand in the crook of his elbow and straighten my shoulders.
"As I'll ever be," I reply.
We approach the security checkpoint where two of the men in dark suits step forward.
"Mr. Petrou," one nods to Niko. "Miss Kastaris. We need to check your belongings."
Niko empties his pockets and removes his watch, placing them in a tray. I offer my clutch.
"Arms out, please," the other guard says.
I raise my arms as they run a metal-detecting wand over my body. It passes without a sound.
"You'll need to leave your bag here," the first guard says. "Security protocol."
"Of course," I smile, watching as he carries my things away. He hands a numbered tag to Niko, who slips it into his inner pocket.
"No pockets, I take it," he says with a smile and a wink. "I'll hold onto it."
I laugh, pretending not to be fraying at the edges. "Exactly why I bring you."
We walk along a stone path that leads us uphill through a manicured garden lit with flickering lanterns and twinkling string lights. From the pictures in the magazine, it looked like a movie set. In person, it's even more beautiful.
I've memorized this layout. Studied pictures of every room, so seeing it in real life makes it all too real.
Music drifts from the main house.
We pass by the ballroom's arched entrance and I catch movement from the corner of my eye.
A flash of copper-red hair. Keira, dressed in a server's uniform, standing near a hedge with a tray of champagne.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second before she ducks out of view, making sure Niko doesn't spot her.
My pulse jumps, but I keep my expression neutral.
We enter the grand ballroom and into a world I'm not ready for.
Chandeliers glitter overhead. Music floats from a live quartet in the corner. The floor is a sea of glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos.
And at the far end of the room, surrounded by men in suits and fake smiles, stands Stavros Petrou.
My breath catches.
Nothing prepared me for the reality of seeing him in person, the man I'm here to kill.
He's laughing, face animated as if he's never done anything wrong in his life. As if he didn't murder my father.
Niko stiffens beside me. I feel it in the way his hand tightens slightly around mine.
Stavros's eyes sweep the room and land on us. He raises a glass toward us. His smile is charming, hollow.
I smile back, even as bile creeps into my throat.
Niko does the same, minus the smile, his face a blank mask. He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in another direction.
"Let's mingle," he says, steering us through the crowd.
We shake hands. Make small talk. I'm introduced to politicians, business moguls, heirs to shipping dynasties and oil fortunes. I nod and smile, memorize names I'll forget the second I walk away.
And all the while, I'm scanning the room. The security detail is heavy but discreet. Men in suits with earpieces, positioned at strategic points throughout the ballroom and garden. More than I thought there'd be.
Finally, I spot the one face I've been searching for.
Declan.
He's moving around the room, his height making him easy to track now that I've spotted him. Our eyes meet briefly, and I feel a flicker of reassurance.
The vial.
I need to meet him to get it.
But I can't break away. The first hour passes in a blur of introductions and small talk.
I meet more people and fall into my usual Calli routine.
I laugh at the right moments, ask appropriate questions, and keep my hand possessively on Niko's arm.
All the while, I'm counting minutes, watching Declan, and keeping track of Stavros's movements.
Eventually, Niko leads me to the dance floor where couples sway to a slow romantic melody. His hand finds my waist, and he pulls me close, our bodies fitting together perfectly.
"You look beautiful, Calli," he says, his lips brushing against my neck. The warmth of his breath is almost comforting against my racing thoughts.
I smile, genuine despite everything, and allow myself a moment to enjoy the feeling of his body against mine. But my eyes continue to scan the room over his shoulder, searching for Declan.
I spot him near a corner, and he catches my eye and makes a subtle motion toward the far side of the room, then disappears into the crowd.
A man in a navy suit approaches us on the dance floor. "Nikolaos," he calls out. "Oh my god. It's been too long."
Niko turns, keeping one hand on my waist. "George. Shit. Good to see you."
As they exchange pleasantries, I seize my opportunity. "If you'll excuse me," I say, touching Niko's arm lightly. "I'm going to get some water and freshen up."
Niko's eyes linger on mine for a moment. "Of course, orea mou. Hurry back to me,” he says and winks.
I slip away, weaving through the crowd toward the area Declan gestured to. My heart's pounding, but I keep my face composed, my steps measured.
I find him at a champagne table, arranging napkins.
I approach slowly, casually.
"Would you care for a drink, ma'am?" he asks, like he doesn't know me.
He doesn't wait for a response. Just hands me a glass of champagne with a folded cocktail napkin beneath it. The moment my fingers close around the napkin, I feel something hard wrapped inside it.
His eyes meet mine briefly. "Remember," he says quietly, "a little is all you need."
Then he turns and disappears into the crowd.
I stand there, champagne in one hand and the napkin in the other. I peek at the napkin, lifting one corner carefully. Inside is a small glass vial with clear liquid—the wolfsbane. My heart drops into my stomach.
Suddenly, what I'm about to do feels crushing. This isn't training. This isn't planning. This is real. This is happening now.
I look down at the champagne, knowing I have no intention of drinking it, but it gives me an excuse to hold the napkin. Plus, I need something to do with my hands or they might start shaking.
I keep it low, letting the condensation bead against my fingers.
I turn, scanning the room for Niko. He was just there, at the edge of the dance floor with that man, but now I can't find him. That's weird. I start walking between clusters of guests, smiling politely as I pass.
Where the hell did he go?
I keep walking around, nodding at strangers. Faking normal.
Then I see them.
Three of Stavros's guards moving quickly through the ballroom toward the back terrace doors. Their faces are tense, hands hovering near concealed weapons.
Something's happening.
I continue searching for Niko, a knot forming in my stomach. He was supposed to be there. I was going to go back to him, wait, and then at some point I'd head to the study and wait for Stavros, but…
I look around.
Damn. Stavros is gone, too.
I grip the napkin tighter.
Something's not right.