Chapter 3
Three
A vra
I stared out the window, taking in the countryside through the window of the car Vik and I drove in and tried to center myself for the evening again.
My plan was in motion, and there was no turning back.
Returning to Greece and moving my sisters into the house Vik had found took a lot of maneuvering and strategy. Throughout the move, I tried my best to remain numb to the entire ordeal, to the fact that we were no longer going to pretend that we’d died fifteen years ago.
The hiding was all over.
Except, the emotionless facade I had learned to wear so well seemed so fragile tonight. Tonight, Vik and I rode to the estate where my sisters and I had last seen our parents alive. As we drove closer to the massive house, the grief I rarely, if ever, allowed to surface demanded release.
Just looking out the window hurt my soul. There were so many familiar landscape features and nearby areas filled with memories.
No. I couldn’t allow myself to fall apart. This wasn’t the time for unexpected remembrances to flare up, but to plan, to attack, to…
Be calm. Stay levelheaded. You can do this.
If only my nerves understood the objective and settled down.
No matter what, I refused to allow fear, apprehension, or worry to win. And I’d be damned if I let anyone detect a break in my armor.
Not the driver. Not Vik. Not anyone.
Vik had taught me the fine arts of schooling my features and perfecting a mask of indifference. Now, it was time to apply those lessons.
As Calista liked to call it, my game face would remain unshakeable. I would never let Ozias see a crack in my facade. Of all people, he would only get the tough shell of the woman I had to become because of him. It was all he deserved.
This was for my family. For my sisters’ future. For my parents’ deaths. For the Vitalis legacy of generations lost. The moment to strike back was here, and I would not entertain the possibility of messing up .
Ozias Xenos had accepted the marriage offer through Vik.
Now, it was time to step into the actual battle and enter the lion’s den—my former home.
A motorcade of a few of our loyal soldiers surrounded our vehicle, giving the impression that I wasn’t left unprotected. However, the majority of our force would remain hidden throughout the city.
The less others knew of the Vitalis women’s strength, the better. It was better to allow all to underestimate us. I wanted them to think we were weak, to believe they had easy targets to attack.
I couldn’t wait to see their reactions when the Vitalis loyalists went to every part of the area to take back everything stolen from them.
“You can do this,” Vik whispered once we exited the car onto the land that had once borne the name Vitalis.
I remained in place for a moment to take in everything and study, noticing all the familiar features and the changes and new additions. It burned a scalding fire on my heart to see my family home inhabited by the enemy, but it hardly resembled the elegant residence I’d once loved. Ozias had ruined it by being here and renovating it with a hideous, modernistic approach full of excess. The history, the old culture, and simplicity seemed faded and barely visible.
It stung just seeing it.
“You can?—”
“I know,” I snapped quietly.
Vik only wanted to encourage me, but it was unnecessary. I knew I could handle this. It would be hard to return here , but I damn well would. Seeking the ultimate revenge had been my motivation to live for so long, and I wouldn’t back down or crumble now.
He nodded, smiling a bit at the snark in my reply. He knew me so well that he’d be right to guess I was bitchy because my hesitation irked me. Without another word, he offered me his arm and led me inside.
A servant opened the door and gestured for us to enter. I remained at Vik’s side as we passed through the beautiful foyer, now overstuffed with gaudy ornamentation. Footsteps sounded from the left, and I braced myself for the moment to face my enemy.
I’d seen photos of Ozias Xenos. My father had never let us girls get involved with the family business before his murder, so this was my first face-to-face interaction with the bastard himself.
Turning slowly, keeping my face blank and not scowling, I met the self-satisfied gaze of the man who’d ruined my family. This tall man held his head high, looking down his nose at me with the air of a gentleman he could never be.
“Welcome,” he greeted with the arrogant comfort of being in charge.
I allowed my gaze to bore into his, silently wishing him dead. Staring into the soul of evil itself, without effort, I envisioned all the ways I could take his life.
I loathed his health and vibrancy, something Papa would never enjoy.
That tall bronze statue on that shelf behind the bastard caught my attention. It looked perfect. I could smash his head with the hard figure. Over and over until the muscles in my arms burned and blood splattered the wall.
Or perhaps I could grab his silky black tie, wrap it around his neck, and then squeeze and pull until his face turned red and he clawed at my grip for air. Holding on tight, I’d strangle him until he dropped limp to the marble floor.
Or the knife nestled at the small of my back. It was a slim, small blade, but I could greedily make do with it, plunging it into his chest with fierce punches until his heart ceased to beat.
Or—
Vik patted the hand still lying over his arm. Then again, harder. He jarred me from my fierce daydreams of death, reminding me to stay in the present as though he knew what I was thinking.
Shit.
I’d allowed my serene guise to slip.
Immediately, I gave a half-hearted, closed-lipped smile as Ozias Xenos welcomed me into his home.
His. The fuck it is. This place belonged to my family. It wasn’t his to have, nor was it his to claim.
After the expected greetings, Ozias grinned at me and asked Vik, “What about the sisters?” He glanced past us, making it clear that his invitation was an order for my sisters and me to follow.
“They couldn’t make it.” I kept my reply simple and direct .
Ozias furrowed his brow, losing that cool, charming look. Then he raised his brows in a silent question.
I didn’t elaborate. He didn’t deserve an explanation for my sisters’ whereabouts.
“They are not coming to dinner?”
I shook my head. “They couldn’t make it.”
My repeated reply had him scoffing. His annoyance was my triumph, and I intended to ride the satisfying high of irritating him for as long as I could.
I couldn’t linger in the victory for long. As I realized I was in a stare-off with this asshole, I felt a telltale sensation on the back of my neck. A sixth-sense awareness that never failed, always alerting me to someone watching me. It was a burn, a gnawing tingle I couldn’t ignore.
As I lifted my gaze and glanced to the side, I found piercing dark eyes watching my interaction with Ozias.
He was tall and handsome, with a few features similar to the man before me, but he carried an edge that screamed he was the dangerous one.
Elias. My fiancé. My future husband.
The son of the bastard who’d murdered my mother.
I stood straighter, knowing the second-hardest task of the night was upon me. I stared back at him, unflinching as he pushed off the wall from where he’d positioned himself in the corner of the room, sizing me up.
He approached with sure, steady steps. Something about the way he looked at me made my pulse jump and things deep inside me awaken .
The closer he came, the more I struggled to remember that he had a purpose—he was a means to an end.
Long legs quickly covered the distance between us. Each step he took pulled at the fabric covering his thick, firm, muscled legs. That suit fit him without a flaw, accentuating the sculpted planes of his chest and the sturdy strength of his muscular arms. Slow and steady, he stalked toward me like a predator homing in on his prey.
Prey? I would be no such conquest.
I couldn’t forget this was my enemy. Marrying him would get me in a position to destroy the asshole who’d created him.
But as he loomed before me, just tall enough that I had to tip my face up to meet his eyes, I realized he was already complicating what I intended him to be.
I found him more than attractive.
What the ever-loving fuck?
Gazing into his deep brown eyes, I resisted this growing fascination that sparked and sizzled. He remained unsmiling and neutral, almost bored, as he looked me over. Everywhere he dragged his lazy stare felt like a tangible caress.
As his attention lingered on my lips, something deep, warm, unwanted, and visceral awoke.
I fought to stay unaffected.
My reputation was critical to being calm and composed. I wouldn’t forget this, and I couldn’t ignore it.
But my heart raced, and a stupid part of me enjoyed being the object of his focus .
Of the idea that he could want to conquer me with that dark, predatory sensuality he emitted.
The corner of his lips twitched, almost like a smirk. He wanted me to react. This was all a game to him.
Fuck you, asshole.
Avra, you know better.
He was the enemy, nothing more. And damn him to hell if he thought he could incite something like desire to course through me.
This was what I deserved for going without sex for extended periods of time. Men like Elias Ozias could push past my barriers and fuck with me.
“Evening.” I kept my tone cold, icy, and formal.
“Evening,” he replied without the stiffness I’d shown. “I hope your trip was pleasant.”
Asshole. I hadn’t taken a trip .
I bit my lip. “Most pleasant.”
“Find the house okay?” he asked, again suggesting he might be bored.
Of course, I knew how to find this address. I used to live here!
“Certainly,” I replied. I’d be calm if it killed me.
Elias Xenos wouldn’t get a rise out of me, not like this.
I hoped he wouldn’t notice the slight clench in my jaw, but as he watched me intensely, studying me, I wasn’t sure if he was acting this indifferent.
Was he fighting a smile ?
This man made no sense.
I shifted my attention to Vik and Ozias as they spoke about the future of our families and fought the urge to glance back at Elias.
I knew he watched me, taking in everything about me. I felt the weight of his interest. Was he as confused by me as I was by him?
I gave in, peeking at him as we moved to the dining room. His eyes locked on my lips again. He jerked, looking away with a muttered curse, and I realized this attraction between us might be mutual. He was quicker to hide it.
The next thirty minutes were a charade of stilted small talk and discussions, with Ozias taking center stage. Elias and I spoke on and off with quick banter given in cool, indifferent tones during the horrendous half hour but allowed his father to remain in charge.
What I hadn’t anticipated was actually enjoying his company.
Dammit. The chance of a connection like this pissed me off even more.
First, I found him attractive, and now I enjoyed his company.
My annoyance with my situation grew as soon as we were seated in the dining room. Ozias had ruined my family home. He had renovated and left his mark on the room, transforming it into a garish mix of gold and gray—an overwhelming display of wealth devoid of style. All the art and antiques that had once been there were gone, replaced entirely by steel and glass.
By the time the meal was over, my exhaustion had surpassed anything I’d experienced after all the work involved in moving my family from another country. Ozias dominated nearly every conversation, addressing Vik almost exclusively.
Men ran things in the syndicate world. I knew this. I had lived in it my entire life.
But for them to plan the wedding as if my opinion were of no consequence.
I tried to tune it out. To stay cool. To remain blank. To?—
I gritted my teeth, catching myself glancing at Elias again.
To stop looking at him.
He did the same, letting his father take charge of the conversation.
I resisted a scowl as I met Elias’s intense and curious gaze while Ozias told Vik what he wanted to happen with the wedding.
Was my future husband amused? Did he enjoy seeing me sit here like an angry, silent thing ? I held back a growl, furious at the thought that he might view me as a toy, as if I were here for his entertainment.
“A month?” Vik asked in reply to Ozias’s expectations for the wedding date.
My friend looked at me, brows raised, and I nodded. It hardly mattered when it happened, just that it would.
“The venue will be at a Greek Orthodox church,” Ozias continued.
I lost my fight with a huff, laughing once. “Well, that should work out well, considering I’m Greek Orthodox.”
Ozias dropped his fork with a clatter, agitated as he narrowed his eyes at me. The bright gold on his hand caught my attention with the movement. His thick, squat ring on his pinky reflected the chandelier’s lights, momentarily distracting me and delaying my response with the full extent of my wrath.
“Don’t wait for me to excuse myself.” I’ll speak up as much as I want. “Seeing as it’s my wedding, it might be important to involve the bride.” I glanced at Elias, who, at that moment, refused to look up from his food. “Or the couple.” Damn, it felt weird to say that out loud. A couple . With him.
“I understand you might be lacking education,” Ozias lectured. “Your father hasn’t been around to teach you these things. But women don’t speak in a men’s discussion.” He wagged his finger at me like I was a child, taunting me to reach over and break it.
“My father hasn’t been around,” I agreed as I tossed my napkin to the table, ready to unleash my fury. “But?—”
“But I have been,” Vik cut in, warning me not to let my temper get to me. “And I’ve instructed her to speak up when necessary.”
Ozias grunted and shook his head. “Funny, isn’t it? That you reappeared after all this time. We all believed you were dead.”
Vik shrugged, holding his hands out as though to say think again .
I clamped my lips shut. Vik’s reminder to keep a lid on my temper helped me to rein it in. Arguing with Ozias wouldn’t serve justice. This wasn’t the endgame. If he wanted to feel like a king and be in control, so be it. He would get what he deserved .
All the while, I felt Elias’s eyes on me. He didn’t speak up. He observed me as though he wanted to find my tells and discover a trick.
“It doesn’t matter. This will be my wedding, and I will have a say,” I said, steering the topic away from my father.
“The hell you will. If you become a Xenos, you will do things my way.”
“Or else?” I taunted. “Just what is the Xenos way?”
Ozias’s nostrils flared as he seethed, staring daggers at me.
“How about a stroll outside?” Elias stood so fast, dropping his utensils on the table, that I barely had a chance to prepare for his suggestion. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
It wasn’t an offer but a firm order. I narrowed my eyes at the gorgeous man as he held his hand out. Ignoring it, I pushed my chair back and stood alone, gritting my teeth once I gave Vik and Ozias my back.
The second I was outside, I closed my eyes at how they’d butchered the gardens and changed it all. It was hideous, nothing like the natural grounds Mama used to love so much.
Can I even do this? Live here where so many memories linger? Can I live under a roof with that horrible man? Playing charades had never seemed so hard.
I reacted to the touch of Elias’s hand on the small of my back, right near the hilt of the blade I wore there.
Instead of commenting, he trailed his fingers upward, warming my skin, and then said, “We won’t live with him.”
I blinked once, surprised by how Elias could have read my mind about his father and ignored the fact that I carried a weapon into his house.
This man was dangerous, and I couldn’t let my guard down.
He gestured, directing me away from the doors.
Once we had some distance from the house, he crossed his arms and, point-blank, asked, “Why are you offering yourself up to the big bad wolf as a sacrificial lamb in marriage?”
“You?” I scoffed. “Big bad wolf? Please.”
He lowered his arms and stepped closer, glowering at me. “Answer me.”
I swallowed but didn’t allow any other sign of awareness. Not just loathing or sarcasm, but how much Elias’s clean, spicy scent overwhelmed me this close. “I want my children to have my legacy.” It wasn’t a lie. I wouldn’t have my family name, but I’d have this place. I only had to marry him for his name's sake, giving me some power back in the process. I’d have the territory, which was a step forward in the plan for revenge and justice.
He leaned in, taunting me with his scent and the warmth radiating from his rugged body. With a seductive whisper that sent goosebumps along my shoulder and arm, he pushed back. “I think you’re a wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing.”
Shit.
“Why are you questioning me?” I wouldn’t reply and deny his guess.
“Why are you insulting me, insisting you have no ulterior motive? ”
“Who said I do?” I shot back.
“I’m not blind. Nor am I stupid.”
“You’re—” I slammed my lips shut, aware with stark clarity how close I’d leaned in and how frustrated he seemed.
We both breathed heavily and quickly, stirred up from more than one disagreement. Sizzling between us was nothing but sexual tension, torrid and stubborn. It was a distraction I would not acknowledge to him.
I stepped back, needing a chance to breathe without his scent muddying my mind.
“I know you’re up to something.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I will. And I already can tell you’re scheming. I plan to find out what.”
I tipped my chin up, pursed my lips, and lifted a brow. His eyes darkened, and for a flash, I saw pure, unadulterated lust staring at me.
“Sometimes,” he said, leaning closer once more before passing me to return to the house, “the most dangerous creatures are the beautiful ones.”