Chapter 36 Niko
NIKO
Iwatch Calli walk away, her red dress flashing between the black tuxedos and glittering gowns.
I keep my eyes on her until she vanishes, half-listening to whatever the hell George is rambling about.
"So, Niko," George continues, pulling my attention back to him. "Your father tells me you've been handling the European export expansion. Impressive growth from what I'm hearing."
I nod, keeping my expression neutral. "We've had a good year."
"Actually, on that note," George says, lowering his voice, "there's something I'd like to discuss with you about getting involved in that." He glances around the crowded ballroom. "Outside, perhaps?"
I look around for Calli, but she's nowhere to be found. Probably in the bathroom freshening up.
I then see my father standing with a group of people talking, that calculated smile plastered on his face.
"Okay," I say finally. "I've got a few minutes before she returns."
"Of course. This won't take long."
He gestures toward the terrace doors. I follow.
"Beautiful night, huh?" George says.
"Sure. What did you want to talk about?"
He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I... well, you see. The thing is, about my exports out of Athens..."
His words come too fast, stumbling over each other. His eyes dart past my shoulder, not meeting mine.
My body tenses.
"George—" I start, but before I can finish, strong hands grab me from behind.
My body reacts before my mind catches up.
I twist, driving my elbow back, connecting with something solid.
Shit. There's too many of them. Four guards, maybe five, with more emerging from the shadows like they were waiting for a signal.
They're grabbing my arms, my shoulders, pinning me.
"What the fuck," I yell, but one of them drives an elbow into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. I go to swing, but my arms won't move.
George backs away, hands raised like he had nothing to do with this.
"You son of a—"
A punch to the face followed by another silences me.
They drag me down the stone steps, my feet barely touching the ground.
I try to fight, but they know what they're doing.
One hand locked around each arm, another on my collar, keeping me off balance.
The music from the ballroom grows fainter as they haul me into the side mansion, the one I walked through just last night to hide a gun under the kitchen sink.
The same kitchen I carefully scoped out for an escape route.
Now it feels like a trap of my own making.
We move fast. Through the kitchen. Down a hall. Into a dark side room with no windows. A storage room, maybe. The second the door opens, I'm thrown forward, hitting the floor hard.
The door slams shut behind me.
I quickly get to my feet and lunge at the door, pounding my fist against the heavy wood. "Fuck you!" I pound louder. "Open this fucking door!"
Nothing.
Complete silence.
I step back, breathing hard, trying to focus through the haze of fury. My ribs throb. My lip is bleeding and a metallic taste coats my tongue.
I look around the room as if I'll find a way to escape, but there's nothing. An empty shelving unit is the only thing in here with me.
Shit.
Calli will notice I'm missing soon. She'll look for me. But what happens to her while I'm trapped in here?
A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps in the hallway makes me freeze. Multiple sets. Getting closer.
Someone unlocks the door and it swings open.
Five guards enter first, some with guns drawn, and spread out along the walls. Then he appears in the doorway. My father. He looks completely at ease in his tailored suit, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
He shakes his head and laughs as he leans against the doorframe.
"Should've known you'd pull some shit like this," I say, straightening up.
He stares at me for a moment and takes a sip of his drink.
"Yes, you should have." His voice carries that familiar note of disappointment that's haunted me since childhood. "Should have done a lot of things, but you're a fuckup and every stupid fucking thing you've done has led to this. Forced my hand."
He finishes his drink and throws the glass at the wall behind me, barely missing me. It explodes with a crash.
"What did you think would happen? That I'd really welcome Callista Kastaris into our family with open arms? That I'd let her carry a child with our name?"
I fucking knew it.
"The gala. You used it as..."
"A trap." He straightens, walking into the room. "Though not for you, specifically. You were always going to be collateral damage."
My blood turns to ice. "Calli."
"There's my bright boy." His smile is cold, satisfied. "Finally catching on."
"I knew in my gut you never accepted it," I say, my voice low. "Any of it."
Stavros laughs. "Accept a Kastaris bitch? Fuck the Kastaris family."
I lunge forward, but two guards grab my arms, restraining me.
"You touch her, and I swear to God—"
"You'll what?" Stavros interrupts, amused. "You're in no position to make threats. Did you really think I'd let her raise my grandchild? I'd rather see her dead like her father than let her give birth to a child poisoned with the Kastaris blood."
"You killed him, didn't you?" I ask, needing to hear him say it.
"Of course I did. Vasilis thought he could push me aside. Thought he could carve out territory in my city and treat me like an afterthought. Thought he could share Chicago with the Bonventis and still hold my respect."
He pauses for a moment.
"He was in my way, just like his daughter is now. And her brothers will be dealt with after her, and I'll run things here and in Chicago fully." His eyes find mine again. "Too bad you won't get to see that."
I break free from the men holding me and launch myself at him again, hands reaching for his throat. "You fucking piece of shit."
But his men are on me again before I can get to him. Fists drive into my ribs, my stomach, my face. I keep swinging, keep trying to reach him, but I'm outnumbered. A knee catches me in the kidney and I go down hard.
Stavros watches from above, smiling. "There's the fire I've been waiting for. Pity it took this long to surface."
The guards step back, leaving me crumpled on the floor. Stavros checks his watch.
"You guys come with me," he says to three of the men. "I'm going to get the whore personally." He points to the remaining two. "You stay here and finish this sorry excuse for a Petrou. We'll dump both their bodies in the morning after the guests leave."
My heart pounds against my ribs. I struggle to stand, but a guard's boot shoves me back down.
Stavros looks back down at me. "Take solace in the fact that when you die, your bitch won't be too far behind."
The door slams shut. The remaining guards look down at me, one of them pulling out a gun from his jacket.
The safety clicks off.
And all I can think about is Calli in her red dress, alone in that ballroom, with no idea what's coming for her.