CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
His father’s retaliation did not come in the form of police intervention or a lawsuit. Instead, Constantine used the press.
Athan’s assistant was ready the moment he emerged from his room the next morning, armed with the story.
“So far, no legitimate news source has picked it up, sir, but the internet is having a field day with a father-son brawl.”
“Brawl,” Athan said disgustedly. “Don’t I wish.” It would have solved nothing, but it would have felt spectacular. And still, it grated, how easily Constantine had played him last night.
Athan knew he would have reacted in a protective way to any woman in that situation—and no doubt his father did as well. That had been one of Athan’s many failings in Constantine’s eyes.
It was disgusting, and Athan would not stand by while any woman was demeaned in such a way no matter what the consequences.
But the tide of fury at his father daring to reach out toward Lynna, the need to immediately stop the look of shock and disgust on her face at his father’s actions, it had all been so quick—the moment, the white-hot, all-encompassing fury that had shot through him. He had not thought at all. He had been too rough, too…reckless.
Now he would pay the price.
“There have been quite a few phone calls and emails asking for you to comment on the story. Ophelia said she will meet you at the office at ten.”
“Then let’s trust Ophelia to handle it until then,” Athan said, referring to his public relations manager, as he walked into the kitchen. “Ignore the calls and emails for the time being. I’m going to eat breakfast then head into the office. We move on, business as usual.”
It was surprising him less and less to find Lynna in his kitchen, and it didn’t do thinking about the fact he’d now found himself in his own kitchens more over the past few days than possibly his entire life prior.
She never looked up at him. Never greeted him. She always acted as if the food was the only thing that mattered.
“Well, our retaliation has landed,” he offered as she studied her pan of eggs. She was twisting around the liquid in an odd little spiral. Everything smelled like heaven.
She lifted her gaze from the pan to him. “I take it you are not to be arrested.”
Some of his bad mood lifted at the way she tried to make it sound like she was disappointed, but what he saw on her face was relief.
“Not as of yet. Instead, he went with the tabloids.” Athan looked down at his phone and read from the article his assistant had sent him. “‘An “altercation” at the house of Athan Akakios was reported late last night. Athan Akakios refused to comment—’” He looked up at her. “Not one person reached out to me for a comment before the story was run. How odd.” Then he continued to read. “‘Constantine Akakios, however, was willing to confirm that he was involved, and that he’d like time and privacy to deal with such an alarming altercation with his own son.’”
Lynna frowned. “But this is a lie,” she said with such affront in her voice, he wanted to run a hand over her hair, just to have a sense what naive, innocent outrage might feel like.
“Some will always be willing to lie for the right price. Truths don’t matter in the games my father plays. Besides, he was very careful. Much of this isn’t a lie so much as twisting the story a certain way, with the right words. A Constantine specialty.”
“What will we do?”
We. That word had him…off-kilter for a moment. To think of her as a we . To be in any kind of we . She had said it last night, she planned to be his partner in this, and still he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
So, he pushed the feelings away and focused on the reality. “I will simply have to weather it. Retaliation won’t do. We’ll continue our plan as is. That’s why he’s doing ridiculous things like this. He’s terrified my plan will work. So we must remain focused.”
The frown didn’t leave her face, but she did turn her attention back to her pan. In deft moves, she transferred the food from pan to plate.
“I will go into the office. You will go shopping for our upcoming dinners,” he said as she pushed a full plate in front of him. “I normally take my breakfast to go.”
“Then go,” Lynna replied, preparing her own plate.
But he didn’t go. He sat and he ate, and he watched her do the same. The silence was casual, easy. Surprisingly so. He wasn’t so naive as to think she’d lost all animosity toward him, but he liked to think he sensed a kind of softening.
When he finished his breakfast, he stood. “That was amazing as always.” He skirted the counter, and she watched him warily, as he’d hoped.
She held her fork between them as he walked toward her, like she might use it as a weapon.
It made him grin.
He reached out for her arm, gently took it and pulled her to him. “Have a good day, wife,” he murmured. “Everyone is supposed to believe us a happy newlywed couple, remember?” he whispered when she resisted. Then pressed a kiss to her hair.
She scowled at him, but she didn’t say anything.
“Smile, darling, we’re in love.”
He got the sense she was about to hurl a fork at him, so he beat a hasty retreat. In a better mood, he rode into the office. He didn’t bother to look up any more stories his father might have planted. He focused on looking at the clients currently controlled by people Athan thought would be more sympathetic to the memory of Lynna’s father over Constantine’s threats. The people who had quietly, carefully and never outright sent little signals over the years that they did not believe Aled had been the one to steal money or make deals with questionable people.
When Athan strode into the office building, there were speculative looks, but no one came out and said anything to him. He met with Ophelia at ten and she outlined a strategy for how to deal with the story. Since most of the dealing with it landed on Ophelia’s and her team’s shoulders, Athan spent the rest of his day focusing on his job . He called clients, read reports, put out small fires here and there.
But when his assistant informed him Ophelia was back later that afternoon, Athan knew not all had gone to plan.
She said nothing as she strode into his office. She placed her phone on his desk, pushed it across to him. He looked at the screen.
Shock Pregnancy Source of Rush Wedding! Beneath the wild headline was a photograph of Lynna. It must have been taken today, as it was in front of a shop in Athens. She was carrying shopping bags and dressed in one of her black ensembles. She hardly looked pregnant, but Athan supposed she didn’t have to look it. It only needed to seem possible to people.
He looked up at his PR manager, who looked…grim at best.
“She is not pregnant,” Athan said through gritted teeth.
Ophelia nodded. “Then that rumor will take care of itself in time. I have a meeting with your legal team shortly to go over our best course of action since these headlines are more direct in nature and come from a legitimate news source. But I came by to recommend a few public events with your wife. Along with the altercation story planted by your father, these stories will spread because she’s mysterious. So, we must end any mystery. Take her out, show her off and let her story be told.”
He wasn’t sure how Lynna would feel about that, but he supposed they didn’t have much of a choice. “Yes. Consult with Niko about my calendar. The dinners I have set up are nonmovable, but anything else is negotiable if there are events we should be seen at.”
Ophelia nodded, collected her phone and turned to leave, but Athan stopped her.
“I want my own story planted. One that questions Constantine’s relationship with a woman nearly thirty years his junior, who was my fiancée not that long ago.” He knew he was on the right track, and that was why he was a target, why Lynna was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a few targets of his own.
Ophelia shook her head. “Mr. Akakios, if you bring any attention to your previous fiancée, you will only have people wondering why you rushed to marry Ms. Carew.” Ophelia waved her phone back and forth. “That is, if she is not pregnant.”
Athan wanted to crush something. Perhaps his father’s windpipe. “She is not . Find a story then. Something that will have him fielding obnoxious phone calls all day. I want it done by tomorrow.”
Ophelia looked disapproving, but she gave a nod before leaving. She would do what needed to be done.
And so would Athan.
* * *
Lynna found herself humming as she prepared dinner. She loved Athan’s kitchen. Whoever had designed it was brilliant. All the items she’d wanted—both in terms of tools and in terms of ingredients—had arrived by the time she’d returned from shopping—where she’d handpicked some of her own supplies as well.
Along with clothes more fitting for dinners with Athan’s associates. Many of whom she probably knew, if superficially. Her father had enjoyed bringing people to their home. Mother had enjoyed entertaining. And while her and Rhys had often not been involved in those dinners, they’d often been at the very least introduced, especially as they’d gotten older. Father had wanted them to follow him into AC International.
Lynna had never had any aspirations of business, but Rhys had.
Rhys was the reason for all of this. Because she’d realized that all of Athan’s plans would necessitate talking about her father, which she avoided like the plague. For Rhys, she would suffer through it.
Besides, she knew how to reroute a conversation. Mother liked to reminisce, to get lost in all that grief . Lynna preferred to set it aside. To focus on the reality of the situation. So she knew the tricks to turn the conversation to something more…productive, without it seeming like she was avoiding the topic of her father.
Father was gone. A tragedy, really, but not one that could be undone. So speaking of the good times, of his warmth and humor before the Akakios family had humiliated and ruined him was…
“Pointless,” she told herself fiercely and out loud so her brain got the message.
She began to prepare a salad while her roast cooked, and soon enough she heard footsteps. Her current method of dealing with Athan was to never take her focus away from the food until she knew she was done, until she knew she could handle the…sharp, overwhelming blow that was just…him.
The way he’d grinned at her after kissing her hair this morning, all humor and mischief and something that pulled out the strangest sensations in her. Not just… sexual feelings, but a matching humor when she wanted to hate him.
She did hate him.
But today she was too curious about what might have gone on at his work regarding the tabloid stories to pretend like he wasn’t there, or she didn’t know if he was or not. So she looked up as he entered.
He wore a crisp suit, though his tie was slightly askew as if he’d loosened it.
She could tell just from the expression on his face that he did not arrive with good news. And something spooled within her chest, an odd kind of…reaction. She could almost picture herself crossing to him and offering him a comforting hug.
Which was the most ridiculous little detour her brain had ever taken. She turned her attention back to the salad. “Have the assault stories spread?”
“Not exactly. It appears my father has chosen to cast a wide net when it comes to stories.” He came to stand right next to her, holding out a phone.
With purposeful and careful movements that she considered a pointed retaliation against the things her body wanted to do when she felt the warmth of him so close, she angled her body away from his even as she took the proffered phone.
There was a picture. A ridiculous headline about their marriage and her pregnancy.
“This is… I was simply shopping.” Lynna frowned at the picture of herself. It was not the most flattering angle, but she definitely was not pregnant, in any way, shape or form.
But what had Athan said this morning? Truths didn’t matter. It was all perception, and she was familiar with the games media played when it came to women’s bodies.
“I should have seen this coming,” Athan said, sounding apologetic. “An interest in you from the press, spearheaded by my father. His goal is to humiliate, and he is an expert.”
Athan seemed genuinely perplexed, which was odd. Why should he concern himself over foolish stories about her?
“Am I meant to be humiliated?” Lynna demanded, eyebrows raised. “Perhaps if it were true, but it is not.”
He stared at her for a full beat. Blinked.
She was almost amused that he did not have a quick, smooth rejoinder. Almost. “A woman’s body will always be picked apart, Athan. Perhaps I am not used to it being my body splashed across tabloids with lies told about me , but this is hardly new. Even if your father spearheaded it, this is the kind of thing women in the public eye deal with.”
“I don’t like it.”
She laughed, though with a touch of bitterness. “Oh, well if you don’t like it, something must be done.”
“My PR team is on it. They suggested going to a few events of our own accord so you don’t seem mysterious enough for people to want to make stories up about you.”
“What kind of events?”
“Balls, charity dinners, anything that will have you dressed up and on my arm and lots of pictures available for anyone who wants them. The more it seems I’m hiding you, the more Constantine will have ease in poking at you.”
She hated the idea. Small private dinners with her father’s old coworkers was one thing. She felt like she excelled in small group situations. But balls ? Pictures? She much preferred her place in the kitchen.
And she was hoping to avoid pictorial evidence that this year she’d signed herself up for had ever occurred.
Her phone trilled and she saw that the work wives were calling. It gave her the perfect out to leave this conversation and have a few moments to decide how she wanted to proceed.
“I have to take this. When the timer goes off, pull the pans out of the oven.”
He frowned at her. “I hardly think—”
But she didn’t listen to his protests. She strode out of the kitchen and answered the four-way video call.
Her friends faces all appeared, and she could immediately tell they all looked concerned.
“Hello. Is everything all right?”
“We’ve all seen the stories. The picture of you shopping,” Irinka said. “We want to know if everything is all right with you ?” She said this almost at the same time Maude offered—
“You’re not actually…”
“Good God. No. ” Lynna looked over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. Athan hadn’t followed her, thank goodness. “I haven’t slept with him,” she whispered fiercely.
“No one could blame you,” Irinka offered.
Lynna made it to her bedroom door and hurried inside, closing the door behind her so no one would overhear this ridiculous conversation. “ I would blame me. For the rest of my life.”
“You did marry him,” Maude pointed out, oh so helpfully .
“Not to have sex with him. To clear my father’s name. To give Rhys a future.”
Her friends were all silent at that.
“We’re all very sorry you’ve made your way into the tabloids and have to deal with this gross body shaming stuff,” Auggie said kindly. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. It’s…nothing. Weird, but it hardly matters what some strange websites post about me. Apparently I have to go to some glittering events now, let my picture be taken, take away the mystery .”
“That’s very smart,” Auggie said.
Lynna wrinkled her nose. Maybe it was, but she wasn’t used to getting dressed up and having her picture taken. She wasn’t used to being a story . Maybe it’d be one thing if she was actually in love with Athan, married to him for all the right reasons.
But she wasn’t.
“Once you know what events you’ll have to attend, send me the details and I’ll send you some outfit ideas,” Irinka offered. “Though I’m sure Athan has a stylist on hand.”
“I trust you over anyone Athan employs.”
All her friends were silent for a few minutes. And even though they were all currently in different places, she could almost feel them giving each other looks.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Lynna? Because we can come rescue you anytime. You don’t have to fight this battle on your own.”
She thought of Constantine smiling while Athan had him pinned against that wall. She wasn’t alone , per se, even if she didn’t trust Athan fully. “No, I’m good.”
She wanted to have a hand in making Constantine pay.
So she’d have one, even if it meant balls and pictures and stories. She’d do whatever it took to give Rhys a future.
And ruin Constantine’s.