Chapter 5
Chapter Five
APOLLO
I like to watch and take in everything around me. That’s my gift. I’m the calm and logical Demetriou brother.
Ares is a hothead, the muscle of our family, and rarely passes up a good fight. He will go toe-to-toe with anyone, but unlike Ophelia, he’s not fearless. My older brother is reckless.
Atlas is softer around the edges, like our mom. He’s introverted and prefers to huddle in the corner with his sketchbook. My twin is pretending to join the conversation with our parents while sketching in the book on his lap.
And I observe.
I’m collecting bits of information from everyone at the table and listening to every word, noticing the subtle shift in their tones and how they move their bodies.
Body language is everything.
I know Ophelia is angry about more than her mother’s death. And I wonder if she feels like she always has to prove herself as the daughter of Belen Drakos. That can’t be easy. Not when he’s one of the most notorious men in the city and has a constant target on his back.
Belen thinks he’s getting a sweet deal marrying a beauty like our mother. But she’s the one conning him. When we’re done with Belen, we will have everything owed to us.
His money.
His empire.
This city.
I can tell by the looks Ares shoots at Ophelia that he wants her. But she won’t come easily. That girl has fire in her veins and a mouth like a sailor. She would have shot the ball sack clean off Ares’s body if her dad hadn’t come home.
I like her energy.
She’s unpredictable and flies off the handle too quickly, but she could be an asset to us. A woman like Ophelia commands respect and doesn’t let men walk over her. I bet she’s always the first person people notice when she enters a room.
I can also see she’s insecure about her weight. She tugs at her tank top, and Ares’s mouth widens as her shirt lowers. At first, I thought she was teasing him until I realized what she was doing.
Ophelia doesn’t want to hide her tits. And why would she? They’re spectacular. She’s yanking on the fabric to hide her stomach.
It’s her one insecurity.
She’s a badass bitch with a sharp tongue and only fears being seen. Whenever Ares looks at her body, she tosses back more insults—using her words to hurt him.
Ares likes it, though.
Mouthy women turn him on.
I watch Ares and Ophelia bicker like old lovers, going back and forth until I want to throat-punch them.
“Do you think you two could stop arguing for five seconds?” I ask before we eat dessert. “You’re giving me a fucking headache.”
Ophelia rolls her eyes. “No one is chaining you to that chair.” She throws out her hand toward the dining room entrance. “You’re free to go.”
Ares runs a hand across his jaw like he wants to pin her to the table and eat her for dessert. These two are going to be fucking by the end of the week. Either that or they’re going to kill each other.
Trying to be the peacekeeper of the group, I say to Ophelia, “No, I think I’ll stay and enjoy your company. It’s been so lovely.”
Ares snickers. “It has, hasn’t it?”
“Got something to say to me?” Ophelia asks him, twirling a dark lock of hair around her finger.
She’s sexy without effort. This is the first time in years I have felt attraction toward a woman. After what happened to me in college, I can’t even touch a woman.
But I want to touch her.
The Drakos are our marks, not our family. I don’t need a sassy girl fucking with my plans. Ares would worship her body like a temple in a heartbeat. He might kill her afterward, though. Or maybe she would kill him.
Mom digs through the bag from Mykonos. She hands plastic containers to Belen, and he flips open the tops of the desserts, telling us to dig in. They went all out for the celebration. There’s everything from baklava and rizogalo to loukoumades and galaktoboureko.
My mouth waters at the loukoumades. I’m a sucker for a good doughnut, especially one dipped in honey.
Ares doesn’t make a move because God forbid he eats sugar.
He’s too obsessed with his body and what he puts into it to enjoy himself.
Besides, he says that carbs slow him down in the ring.
Well, shitty carbs, anyway. Anything fried and slathered in something that isn’t all-natural or organic would never go into his mouth.
Atlas grabs a piece of baklava and eats the pastry with one hand while drawing with the other. Ophelia is having a face-off with Ares, and I wonder if she’s waiting to choose a dessert until he does. I’m curious if she’s insecure about eating in front of people. She barely touched her dinner.
I grab a doughnut from the container and hold it in front of her mouth. “Open up. You need to eat.”
Her eyes widen right before she gives me a look like she’s going to punch me in the face. “I can afford to skip a meal.”
I glance at her face before letting my eyes lower to her tits, and when I reach her stomach, she wraps her arms around herself. “I said, take a bite. You barely ate your food.”
Her gaze flicks between Ares and me. Then she opens her mouth and lets me place the doughnut on her tongue. She only accepted the dessert to say fuck you to my brother.
“That’s a good girl,” I tell her. “Now, eat something before I keep force-feeding you loukoumades.”