Chapter 3
Three
L AYANA
“Is that Papa?” I gasped, disbelief gripping me as I stared at the photograph. “What the fuck?”
“Laya. Language,” Vik chided, reminding me of how he used to scold me when I was a teenager.
I frowned, casting a bewildered look at Avra, and muttered, “I don’t understand.”
“Me neither,” Avra whispered, equally bewildered.
She squinted at the sparkling silver frame trembling in my clenched hand, the image of Papa smiling and covered in sweat.
Seven other men stood around him, but the one with his arm around Papa’s shoulder bore a striking resemblance to a younger version of my soon-to-be husband.
I blinked at the photo, breath catching.
“That’s… Papa,” I whispered. “And that—” I hesitated, heart thudding. “That has to be Constantine Galanis.” “I believe that’s the league Papa played in during his youth,” Avra said.
“You’re right,” I agreed, despite the turmoil in my gut.
I glanced toward Nikolas, who lingered by the window, deep in conversation with Elias, and then looked back at Avra.
“Did you know they knew each other?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
“No,” Avra replied, her face a mix of confusion and concern, as if she were piecing together the fragments of a long-forgotten puzzle.
This felt like a betrayal—by my instincts, my research, everything I thought I knew. With all my research, how could I have missed a connection between Papa and Nikolas’s family? Had I possibly overlooked a crucial detail?
“Am I wrong about him?” I questioned, shaking my head to cast off the mounting anxiety.
Avra fixed her eyes on me, taking the photo from my shaking hands and setting it back on the mantel like a cherished artifact.
“Perhaps this is a setup,” I murmured, striving to avoid attracting attention.
My training had prepared me for danger, but the haunting memories of trauma still threatened to send me fleeing at any sign of trouble.
“We should go,” I insisted.
“Laya!” Avra exclaimed, gripping my shoulders tightly and gazing intently into my eyes. “Stop being impulsive. You need to outgrow that habit.”
“Something doesn’t add up,” I replied, nervously skimming the dim hallway that led to a door promising escape from the impending mistake I felt I was about to make.
“How could it be a setup? A setup for what, exactly? Just a reminder, you picked Nikolas. Have you lost sight of that?”
“No,” I said, folding my arms defensively. “But maybe…” I paused, forcing myself to calm down.
I shifted my focus from Nikolas to the photograph, then let my eyes wander over the other images resting on the mantel.
Each frame held a memory, and my father’s soulful gaze stared back at me from two of them.
A realization settled in, making it clear that my father had a connection to Constantine, which lingered just beyond our previous searches.
How could we have missed such an important link?
Suddenly, a realization struck me like a bolt of lightning.
Vik had been unusually quiet throughout the entire conversation.
I turned abruptly towards him and asked, “Were you aware?”
“Yes, but—” Vik opened his mouth and closed it again.
I cut him off, asking, “How could you hide this from us?”
I grew weary of Vik’s constant urge to protect us, not just from physical threats but also from vital truths we had the right to know. Once, I might have sympathized with his wish to shield us, but now it only fueled my bitterness and frustration.
“We’re adults, Vik. We can handle the truth.”
“Yes,” he said, “They were friends. And I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter—until now.”
I glared, on the verge of hitting him. “We’re not girls anymore!”
He glanced up, as if asking for divine intervention, a gesture that highlighted our numerous previous interactions.
“Calm down, Laya,” he cautioned as he met my fiery glare. “You chose him, Laya. I trusted that choice. Nikolas Galanis was merely one of three men on the list compiled by your sister. I gave Avra my opinion on who I favored, but never said anything to you. The final decision was all on you.”
“You know exactly what I mean!” I snapped. “You should have told us.”
“I figured you’d discover it eventually.” He shrugged, treating it as unimportant. “Moreover, it’s a harmless detail. You’re creating unnecessary drama.”
“You’re impossible,” I retorted, rolling my eyes as irritation boiled over.
“I could say the same about you, dear one,” Vik replied with a sarcastic lilt.
I would certainly strangle him if I didn’t love him so much.
I looked to Avra, begging her to intervene—but she was lost in the photos, her face shadowed with something I couldn’t quite read. As the eldest, Avra bore an unspoken responsibility that grew heavier after our parents’ deaths.
Her eyes often revealed a desperate yearning, a silent hope that Papa might somehow come back to lighten her burden.
Viewing these vibrant photographs of Papa felt like encountering a ghost. They prompted me to reflect on Papa’s connection with Constantine. Not only were they allies, but they were also friends with a much deeper bond. From the various pictures, they had known each other since childhood.
It made me curious about what Papa was like in his youth. The joyous aura in those photographs suggested shared adventures and a deep, unspoken understanding, a stark contrast to the man I never truly knew.
A sudden prickle of awareness had me glancing at Nikolas.
His intense gaze locked onto mine as he continued his conversation with Elias. I held his stare, trying to interpret the subtle hints in his expression to determine whether I could trust this enigmatic man whose beauty seemed almost unreal.
He had an unsettling charm, suggesting that behind his flawless appearance lay hidden flaws or ominous secrets. His perfection felt as if it served as a meticulously constructed mask, hiding intricate and mysterious motivations.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he might have a valid reason for agreeing to marry me.
This reason could involve either a hidden motive or a straightforward, practical choice.
However, as I noticed his distracted gaze—those fleeting moments when he seemed to reflect on our discussion about the photographs—I felt he had answers too.
The idea that I was projecting my hidden intentions onto him was somewhat amusing.
Beneath our polite exchanges and heated glances, I carried my own secrets. With a firm chin lift and a determined set of my shoulders, I silently vowed to remember that essential truth. No matter Nikolas’s reasons for this marriage, I stood to gain the most from this union.
I could wait for him to share his secrets when he felt ready. I had no doubt he had considered the pros and cons of partnering with a Vitalis, and the benefits had outweighed any doubts he might have had.
Noticing his distraction during my discussion with Vik and Avra, I became convinced he had the necessary answers, and I was determined to uncover them all.
“I’ll find out what’s going on,” I told myself, leaving Avra and Vik behind as I walked confidently toward Nikolas and Elias.
My determined stride was interrupted when Soti entered the room.
“Dinner is ready,” he announced in his distinctly cultured accent.
This added an unexpected air of formality to the statement, enhancing its charm, even though it meant that my search for answers would need to be paused for now.
We entered a magnificent dining room reminiscent of those in ancient castles. A long, elegant table stretched before us, adorned with sparkling place settings. At the center, bowls overflowed with fresh fruit and fragrant flowers, leaving me in awe.
The elegance astounded me. Only yesterday, I’d been lounging in my living room, watching carefree rom coms while nibbling lukewarm spanakopita. The prospect of luxury like this felt both surreal and overwhelming.
We gathered around the elegant table, and I felt a tingling heat radiate through my skin as Nikolas settled beside me.
His proximity stirred something deep within me, igniting a subtle spark of desire.
The warmth of his presence sent a shiver down my spine, leaving me both excited and slightly uneasy.
I took a deep breath and reached for the glass of ice water before me. I drank it while maintaining a graceful demeanor, though I doubted I could achieve this.
A small drop of water then fell onto my chest.
Fabulous.
I averted my gaze in embarrassment, attempting to hide the mishap while silently wishing that no one else had seen. My hopes faded when Nikolas’s teasing smirk caught my eye.
Avra had persuaded me to wear a low-cut dress, and now my exposed cleavage silently confirmed her choice.
Nikolas’s gaze fixated on a small, glistening bead of water clinging happily to my bare skin.
Embarrassed, I quickly brushed it away, only to see Nikolas raise his eyes toward me and send a wink in my direction.
Despite being a Vitalis, I remembered how my early years were spent in surroundings far more modest than the royal wealth associated with our family name.
Our life in Prague revolved around simplicity rather than luxury.
Vik raised us without the extravagant comforts typically associated with our status.
He prioritized our safety over indulgence.
This modest upbringing fostered an appreciation for simplicity, which sharply contrasts with the opulence surrounding me now.
The present setting, filled with aristocratic splendor, felt alien and somewhat disconcerting. I had always sought refuge in more casual environments, making the prospect of one day managing such extravagance both thrilling and daunting.
How could I convince Nikolas I was ready for a role I’d never prepared for? My lack of experience was an obvious and daunting truth.