Chapter 37 Calli
CALLI
The guests blur into a sea of people as I move through them, the champagne glass still clutched in my hand. I spot Keira slipping between two older men carrying flutes on a tray. Our eyes meet, and she changes direction, moving toward me.
"Where's Niko?" I whisper as she pretends to show me her tray.
She shakes her head slightly, lips barely moving. "I don't know, but be careful. We're here." She turns and moves back into the crowd before I can say another word.
Him missing, the guards running out. My chest tightens. Niko should be beside me. I should be making polite conversation while tracking Stavros's movements, waiting for the right moment to slip away to his study.
I move toward the entrance, hoping to spot Niko returning from whatever pulled him away. But instead, I see something that makes my blood freeze.
Stavros enters the ballroom with four men flanking him. His eyes scan the ballroom, sweeping over faces until our eyes lock.
He smiles.
My heart pounds so hard I feel like it might come out of my chest. Stavros begins moving toward me, cutting through the crowd. His men follow, forming a loose circle that will trap me if I try to run.
Panic shoots through me. The napkin in my hand. I can't let him find it. Can't risk him discovering what I planned to do.
I spot a large potted plant near me and, with what I hope looks like a casual gesture, I lean in and let the napkin slip from my fingers into the soil.
The vial disappears among the leaves.
I quickly glance around as he gets closer. No sign of Niko. No time to run.
I straighten just as Stavros reaches me.
"Calli."
"Stavros," I say and nod.
"Just the person I was looking for," he says smoothly. "Would you come with me? I'd like to talk about everything Niko's told me."
He extends his hand like we're old friends.
I don't take it. "Where is Niko?"
Stavros laughs. It sounds fake. "Oh, he got held up talking to his old friend, George. He says he'll meet us soon."
"Come," he says, dropping all pretense of warmth. His fingers grip my arm, tight enough to bruise, and pull me forward.
"Be careful," I say, lifting my champagne glass slightly. "You'll make me spill Niko's champagne."
It's a weak excuse, but I need something to buy me time. To think. To figure out where Niko is and why every instinct I have is screaming that something is wrong.
Stavros scoffs and grabs the glass from my hand. "There," he says, downing it in one swallow. "Now you don't have to worry. We'll get him some more later. Let's go."
His grip on my arm tightens, and this time there's no mistaking it for anything other than control. He begins walking toward the side exit that leads to the connecting mansions, and I have no choice but to follow or be dragged.
I scan the room desperately as Stavros leads me away from the safety of the crowd. Through the tall windows, I catch a glimpse of movement. Keira and Declan are moving in the same direction we're headed. Their faces are tense, alert.
They're following us.
The knowledge provides a small measure of comfort, but it's not enough to quiet the fear clawing at my chest. Whatever's happening, it's not what any of us planned for.
The path we're walking is lit with softly glowing lanterns. Stavros's men fall into formation around us, two ahead, two behind. I'm surrounded, cut off from any chance of escape.
We climb the steps to the other mansion, and I recognize it immediately. This is where the large private study is located, the same room I was supposed to slip into later. The same room where I planned to wait for him with wolfsbane and vengeance.
Now he's bringing me here himself.
We stop outside a wooden door. Stavros nods to one of his men, who opens it. Without warning, he shoves me forward, hard enough that I stumble into the room. I catch myself on the edge of a chair.
I turn, breathing heavily, to see Stavros speaking to his men.
"I can handle her," he says. "Stay by the door. No one in or out. I want to talk to her before she sees Niko."
The guards nod and step back. Stavros enters and closes the door behind him. The lock clicks into place.
We're alone.
"Where's Niko?" I demand.
Stavros ignores me as he walks to his bar cart in the corner, crystal decanters catching the lamplight. He pours himself a drink and sighs.
"What a fucking mess you and Niko created."
I arch an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
He turns, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "A baby? Niko?" He gestures with his glass, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "What, you two thought you could live a carefree life and fuck everyone else over?"
Heat flashes through me. "Whose life exactly would we be fucking over?"
"Mine!" His voice rises, eyes flashing with disgust. "I'd rather see our bloodline end than diluted with your blood." He takes a large swallow of his drink and coughs as it goes down.
I nod. "So I take it you never approved?"
"Of course not," he says, loosening his tie with jerky movements. The coughing subsides, and he walks over and drops into a leather chair behind the desk.
I step closer, my hands shaking. "We're both of Greek blood. Isn't that good enough?"
Stavros snorts, his lip curling. "What do you know about true Greek blood?
" He coughs again and takes another drink.
"You live in Chicago, born there if I'm not mistaken.
You don't live here, in the heart of Greece fighting for legacy.
You wear red dresses like a little slut and play mafia princess. "
I nod slowly. "You're right. I was born there. But I know all about our culture. Our history. For example, do you know the story of Electra?” I ask.
"What?" he asks, a confused look on his face.
"Oh, it's very good," I say and start to pace the room. "She was the daughter of a king. Her father was murdered by his own wife and her lover. Electra was forced to live in their home, eat at their table, smile through the pain.”
I stop and look directly at Stavros, who's not speaking. Not moving. Just those dark eyes tracking my every movement.
“She grieved in silence. Powerless. But when her brother returned, she didn’t hesitate. She pointed him straight at the killers. And he did what she wasn't allowed to.”
I walk over and sit at the desk opposite Stavros. His face has turned an interesting shade of red.
“It would be unnatural, they said, for a daughter to shed blood in her father's name." I lean forward, holding his gaze. "But I, we, know the truth. Sometimes the gods don't choose warriors. They choose daughters."
Stavros shifts again, his breath coming faster. A flicker of panic dances in his eyes.
He suddenly starts to convulse. His body shifts and he vomits all over his expensive shoes. He slowly turns back to face me and I don't flinch.
"And while Electra didn't take vengeance into her own hands, I did." I stand slowly, smoothing my red dress. “I didn’t need my brothers. I needed a glass of champagne and your arrogance.”
I walk around to Stavros, whose contorted face looks up at me. Blood vessels have burst in his eyes, turning the whites red. His lips are blue at the edges.
"You may have killed my father, but know it was his daughter who ended your pathetic life. And now your son and I will build a new empire that doesn't include you."
Stavros starts shaking harder now, foam bubbling from his mouth like a rabid animal. His body contorts, muscles seizing. He falls out of his chair and collapses to the floor.
Blood begins to trickle from his nose and ears, pooling on the rug beneath him.
His eyes, still open, stare up at me with a mixture of shock and rage as the realization dawns on him. I don't look away. I want the last thing he sees to be my face, standing over him as life drains from his body.
After a few minutes, Stavros's eyes are still open, staring at nothing. His chest has stopped moving.
It's done.
I killed him.
I expected to feel different. Sick, maybe. Horrified. But all I feel is a deep satisfaction.
Now all I can think is how to get out of here and find Niko before it's too late.