Chapter Three
Zervou was a patient man—when patience was warranted. He also knew how to press an advantage. After Ariadne had left, he’d instructed his staff to wrap up the dessert and deliver it to her apartment. She would not know what to do with that.
He appreciated her wariness, even if it was in opposition to what he was trying to accomplish. He understood her reticence, and no amount of perks was going to allow her to let down her guard.
He had no doubt she’d eventually agree. It was too good of a deal—he could afford to offer her too much for her to refuse. Her life beyond her boxing successes seemed rather sad.
Yes, he was offering her too much to refuse, but he respected the way she’d handled herself in spite of that. The way she was handling this. With a carefulness and a confidence.
Yes, he liked what made up Ariadne Malis.
And, over the next two days, he often found himself thinking far too often of the way the gold of her belly button ring had sparkled in the moonlight, there against smooth skin over hard muscle.
He wanted to see her box again. He wanted to see her to do many things. And while many around him might consider him a man who did not do without what he wanted, internally Zervou was a much more measured and careful man.
He did not allow himself wants if they did not fit into the plans he had for his life. Now, he had the power and influence to make most of his wants fit into those plans, but retribution was one exception.
So a fascinatingly complex attraction to the woman he needed to draw out his sworn enemy was something to be carefully assessed, considered. It required treading lightly.
But, as he’d told her, sex was hardly off the table if she was interested.
For the time being, he needed to continue preparations.
He assumed Ariadne would make him wait. His guess was she would come to him with agreement in a week.
He didn’t love patience, but he was considering Ariadne a kind of partner in this.
He wanted her willing and ready and thinking more was in her control than actually was.
He believed this was a tactical necessity. He had no doubt her demands would be negligible to someone like him. Some money. Some assurances. She likely couldn’t imagine more than a drop in the hat of what he’d accrued.
So he prepared for what would happen when she finally capitulated.
He already had people working on a wardrobe for her—though he liked the tough-girl casual that clearly suited her, it would not suit the events they would be going to.
He already had his social assistant working on accepting invitations to all the most important parties around Europe and the travel required.
Organizing the press they would need to make sure Erjon would hear of their relationship no matter what kind of hole the man had dug himself into.
Though Zervou had not been able to sniff out any yet, he had no doubt there was some kind of tabs being kept on Ariadne from the Hyseni camp. Erjon would know what his daughter was up to. And he would be forced to act.
Zervou could see no other way this went.
So he could be patient for a few more days. He could wait for Ariadne to come to him. He could wait for everything to work out just the way he planned.
A knock sounded at his office door before it moved open and Bacchus stepped inside. “Mr. Kritikos. We have a…situation. With Ms. Malis.”
Zervou frowned. He thought she’d make him wait at least three days minimum. “Is she here?”
“No. But we were watching the apartment and her mother as you suggested. Based on my investigation, Maria Malis has racked up quite a debt with the Sakkas family. Their toughs plan to collect this evening. It is…unlikely Maria or Ariadne have the funds to pay.”
“I see.”
It did not look like they were going to be able to wait for Ariadne to come to the correct conclusions herself. “Get the required cash. We will handle this.”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to pay off the Sakkas family or give the money directly to Ms. Malis?”
Zervou considered his options.
“I’d like to handle this one myself. Ready the car and the payoff. I will be down momentarily.”
Ari jogged up the stairs to her apartment. Her muscles screamed in protest but keeping them moving after a tough training session was better than babying them. At least in the long run.
Her lip throbbed from where she’d gotten a punch because she’d been busy thinking about her life, about the piece of chocolate cake Zervou had sent over, and not enough about her practice.
So she had to make a decision tonight. One way or another. Even if she ended up flipping a coin. The decision had to be made before tomorrow’s training. Once made, it couldn’t distract her. She wouldn’t let it.
And how could she refuse? Sure, Zervou had the kind of power to ruin her life if she made a wrong move, but how could she turn her back on the chance to ruin her father just to survive a few more days in this dog-eat-dog world? If Zervou ruined her, did it matter if they ruined Erjon first?
Your mother needs you.
The point she kept circling back to. Sure, she had plenty to risk—there was no magical future she hoped for.
Just survival, really, and even that seemed…
negligible. Except if anything happened to her—if she lost her ability to fight, to work, anything like that—her mother would end up destitute and homeless. Or worse.
Probably much worse. Ari shook her head, reaching into her bag for her keys as she approached the apartment door.
“Ariadne Malis.”
Ari nearly jumped at the unfamiliar voice saying her name. She didn’t hide it well, either. She really had to get out of her own head. She was putting herself in danger, and that didn’t work in her world.
She turned to face two men, put her back to her apartment door.
For a split second, she thought maybe they were another pair of men sent by Zervou, but a quick survey of the wardrobe ruled that out.
These men were dressed with flash over any kind of substance.
It screamed wanting to look rich without actually being rich.
Which wasn’t good. Dread pooled in her gut.
She didn’t let the dread show. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
“I don’t suppose you’re aware of where your mother has been spending her evenings.”
Really not good. “She likes to knit,” Ari replied with a saccharine smile. This would not be the first time her mother’s…habits had brought rough men to their door making demands. Ari knew how to handle the muscle sent to shake down poor women with gambling problems.
“You must be confused,” the man said, meeting her fake sweetness with a fake politeness of his own. “Maria Malis spends her time in the Sakkas Casino. Losing more money than she has to lose at our tables.”
Ari swore inwardly but maintained the smile. Sakkas Casino wasn’t her mother’s usual fare of laying a few wages on horses or the numbers she liked to pick in the back room of the grocery. Sakkas was…serious. And there would be serious consequences for not repaying such a debt.
Damn. Ari had to think fast. She lifted a shoulder to the man’s accusation. She stealthily moved her hand to the knob, hoping Mom had left the door unlocked even though Ari always reminded her to lock it if she left.
It turned in her hand. Hallelujah. Getting inside wouldn’t save her when one man had a gun, but it would buy some time. She just needed some time to plan.
“Sounds like a you problem,” she told the men, holding the knob so she could pull it open and slip in before they had a chance to—
One slammed his hand against the door before she could get it open. “You’d be wrong.” He looked down at her. Eyes hard and mean. “It’s a you problem now.”
Ari eyed the two men hulking over her. She could probably take them. With the right strategy, with the right moves.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly fight off a gun.
Unless she managed to land a hard enough blow that the one with the gun fell back and down the stairs.
If that worked, she could immediately whirl and likely duck a grab made by the second man.
But he could have another kind of weapon. Maybe a knife.
Of course, she had one of those, too. But she’d have to get it while taking out the one with the gun.
“Seems to me all those boxing prizes come with a bit of money. The kind of money that might go a ways toward paying off a debt.” This came from the one with the gun.
She didn’t need to tell him he couldn’t be more wrong. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. Still, she thought of the money Zervou had handed over the night before last. She’d bought groceries with some of it and secreted the rest away. She could offer it as a start of payment…
But where did it end? Don’t worry about the end. Just get through this day. One step at a time.
“Listen—”
A strange…tsking noise sounded behind them. Both men looked over their shoulders, but Ari could not see what was there around the two large men. Still, she could use this surprise to her advantage. If she started a fight, she could get inside. Grab the money. Grab Mom. And run.
Run where?
Anywhere, really. Anywhere was better than this.
She was about to deliver the first blow when a voice surprised her.
“Surely violence isn’t necessary.”
Surely that wasn’t… But as the two men adjusted their stances, she caught sight of him.
Zervou.
He was dressed just as he had been when they’d dined together. A suit that could not be mistaken for anything but the best of the best, made expressly to fit his broad shoulders. Subtle, sophisticated, perfect.
He oozed all of those things while standing on the grimy landing in front of her dilapidated apartment door. While two-bit enforcers stood there in their cheap suits and overwhelming cologne thinking they were important because they’d taken advantage of a drunk woman’s weakness for cards.
“This isn’t any of your business,” the man with the gun said. He put his hand in his jacket, clearly showing the gun off to Zervou.
Who did not so much as flinch. Instead, he produced a big, fat envelope. “This should more than take care of the debt.”
Ari swallowed. She should protest. She’d be even more indebted to him if she allowed him to pay off her mother’s debts, but… It would buy some time. She could figure this out with a reprieve.
The man who wasn’t armed reached out to snatch the envelope of cash, but Zervou must have held fast, creating what would have looked like some kind of foolish tug of war if Zervou were anyone else.
Instead, he looked down at the man with cold, direct eyes, power emanating from him like a visible entity. “You will not come back here.”
The man tugged on the envelope again, but it didn’t come free. “If there are no more debts—”
“You misunderstand me. Do not extend credit to people who cannot pay, and there will be no more debts. You will not come back here. If you do, the Sakkos family will have a very formidable enemy. I don’t think either of us wants that.”
The man with the gun snorted. “Listen—”
“Oh no, my friend. It is you who will listen. And I suggest you run it by your bosses before you decide to make an enemy out of Zervou Kritikos.”
The name seemed to shock both men. They exchanged a look. One cleared his throat. The other spoke. Deferentially at that.
“Understood, Mr. Kritikos.”
Zervou finally let go of the envelope, and the two men skittered off like Zervou had invoked some kind of potential curse upon them.
Should she be concerned that his name spoken to the toughs of Corfu could be invoked like a curse? Yes. Obviously.
He stood there like something as threatening as a curse. His expression vaguely amused as he studied her there, leaning against her door.
She could only stare at him as her heart rate slowly returned to normal. As the adrenaline that had rushed through her started to fade. Suddenly she was just tired. Bone-deep weary.
“Do you always carry a wad of cash around?” she asked. “I wouldn’t recommend it in this neighborhood, even with your fancy security detail.”
He said nothing to this, and everything inside of her deflated. No, he didn’t carry cash around. Of course not. His arrival wasn’t happenstance or him coming to talk more about his proposition. It was a plan.
He’d known. “You knew.”
He said nothing still, but it was clear. He’d somehow known these men had come to shake her down. And he’d come with the money because that would mean she would owe him. She would have to take his deal, whether she wanted to or not.
She should have known it was all an act. This idea she had choice. “I suppose I’m indebted to you now.”
“It appears that way.” He moved closer, his eyes on her face, narrowed.
Studying her with such an intensity she found herself holding her breath with every step closer he took.
His mouth curved down into a frown. “You have a split lip.” His thumb brushed gently just under where her lip throbbed, causing a new kind of throb to begin low in her stomach.
It took her a moment to breathe through the bolt of heat, this strange vibrating inside of her. She had to be made of tougher stuff than melting at a man’s unwanted touch.
Is unwanted the word you’re looking for here?
“It wasn’t from them,” she said, ignoring her traitorous thoughts. “Bumps and bruises are part of my job.”
He made a considering sound, while his thumb lingered there at the corner of her mouth. Gentle.
Erotic.
She tried to focus on the pain from her practice rather than the unraveling pleasure in him standing this close, looking at her that intently, touching her no matter how innocently.
Innocent? Zervou?
Yeah, definitely not the right word. But she was a fighter. She wouldn’t take these blows without some of her own.
“I have demands.” She lifted her chin. She knew how to fight even when she lacked every advantage. She knew how to pretend there was anything left in the tank, even when there wasn’t. Because right now, what she really wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry.
Too bad.
He held her gaze. She could read nothing in his expression. But when he spoke, there was a strange softness in his tone that she could not categorize.
“Then let us go inside and hash them out.”