Chapter Seven
The flight to Mykonos was uneventful. Zervou could feel Ariadne’s mother glare daggers at him. She’d said nothing to him the entire ride to the airport and now the entire flight, but he didn’t need words to understand.
She didn’t trust him. No doubt thought he was taking advantage of her daughter. He could almost accept this as fair, even though he was paying to put her into a facility that would allow her daughter not to worry or scrabble for a bit. He was doing them both a favor.
It figured, like mother like daughter, that neither fully understood this. Not unlike his own mother.
Except, when they reached the facility, Maria went willingly. Obediently agreeing to every instruction from her daughter and the staff.
Zervou went inside with them, but when it came time to leave Maria in her room, he let Ariadne and her mother have some moments alone to stay goodbye.
It was a nice facility, with some of the best counselors and doctors money could buy. Maria would be in good hands. Perhaps she would even find some sense of healing here that would allow Ariadne to…
Well, he supposed it did not matter. The end result was not his concern. As long as Maria stayed and did not cause trouble during the duration of his plan, and Ariadne could concentrate on their ruse.
That was all he needed to concern himself with.
So he waited outside on a pleasant little patio that overlooked the sea. A quiet, restful place. To his way of thinking, Ariadne could use some quiet and restful. It seemed she had done nothing but struggle her entire life.
Which was neither here nor there except that a rested, settled, happy Ariadne would no doubt draw Erjon out of hiding. Men such as Erjon could not stand for those he considered his property to be happy. Successful. Enjoying windfalls. Not without wanting a piece of said windfall.
Especially once he knew who had provided it. The man who’d sent him into hiding in the first place.
Erjon could not, would not hide forever. Zervou held onto this certainty with a certain fanaticism.
The door opened, and Ariadne stepped out into the warmth of a beautiful afternoon. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she was clearly fighting them back as she approached. “She is settled,” she told him firmly, everything she must be feeling carefully controlled behind a stoic mask.
He could not find words for the emotions that seemed to twist and churn in his chest. A kind of yearning, except he did not know how to assuage it. What would make that feeling go away.
So he shoved them away as he rose. “Come, let us go check into our hotel.”
She gave a sharp nod, and they walked out to the waiting car. He did not speak on the drive over to the resort, and neither did she. Her mind was no doubt on her mother. His on the strange feelings assaulting him.
It wouldn’t do, this strange ignorance of his own emotions. No, if he could not categorize them, they did not belong. He would excoriate them. Somehow.
They arrived at the resort, and his driver took care of everything while Zervou led Ariadne to their private beach villa.
She said nothing, but her eyes were wide as he led her into the spacious private building that would be theirs alone.
“This is not a hotel. This is…” She shook her head. “Something someone as poor as me does not have the vocabulary for.”
“Well, consider the next few months a vocabulary lesson.”
“Months, is it?”
“As long as it takes. That’s what you agreed to, is it not?”
“Yes, as long as it takes.” She said it a bit like someone enduring a punishment, which shouldn’t frustrate him as much as it did. Her feelings were fairly immaterial to his end goal.
She moved deeper into the room, all the way to the window that dominated the far wall, showing off the pristine white beach and sparkling blue sea.
She painted a picture there, mysterious woman staring out at the contrasting beauty of a Greek island.
The bright sunlight seemed to make her skin glow, glittering against the hoops in her ears.
There was a potency to her. Something sharp and unique that drew him to move toward her.
Yet she continued to be wary of him. Continued to look at him out of the corner of her eye like he might turn into a villain.
Which was neither here nor there. Her concerns or feelings didn’t matter so much as the end result.
If he reminded himself of this enough, perhaps it would stick.
“You have some time to rest if you’d like. We have reservations for dinner tonight, then tomorrow we will go for a little sail.”
She turned to him, nose wrinkled. “Sail?”
“Do you object?” It would make for an excellent photo op, so her objections would be overruled, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t listen to them.
“I suppose not. I’ve never been.”
He shook his head. “Growing up on the water and never sailing? We will rectify such a shame then.”
Her mouth curved ever so slightly. That small smile, as if he’d pleased her, did something very foreign to him. Very…soft.
He found himself frowning. Unsure. But uncertainty was a death knell, and he would not tolerate it.
“How long will we stay?” she asked, eyes back out on the water.
“Two or three days. It depends on if we hear any rumblings of your father. I assume it will take at least an engagement for him to risk being seen, but one never knows for sure.”
She nodded along. “And when will this fake engagement occur?”
“When the time is right.”
She clearly did not care for that answer. “I have a fight next month. I can’t be…vacationing and eating all the time. I have to prepare. Train.”
“This can be arranged around and during vacations. You only need to inform me what you need. All your needs will be met.” With a start, he realized he felt that statement a little too deeply, recognizing a feeling he thought he’d eradicated from inside himself.
The need to please, fix, protect…when it was never wanted or reciprocated.
No, he would not fall into that old pattern. He was in charge here. She would take his help, whether she liked it or not. No choices here.
But he could endeavor to make her understand that. “I have no desire to put roadblocks in your life, Ariadne.”
She made a considering noise but didn’t agree. Which frustrated him, and frustration wouldn’t do. So he lightened the mood.
“Consider me more…guardian angel than anything else.”
She snorted as he’d expected, rolling her eyes. Giving some humor to the situation so she did not seem quite so…sad.
He did not want her to be sad. He did not want her unsure. Because they would not suit his purposes.
That was all.
After an insanely delicious dinner, they had returned to their private little beach villa, and Ari had retired to her room.
She hadn’t expected to be able to sleep, still worried about her mother.
But something about the large meal and the long day had twined exhaustion with satisfaction, and she drifted off almost the moment her head hit the pillow.
She awoke, groggy and disoriented. But after a few moments of finding her bearings, she realized she felt…rested. Her neck wasn’t tight with tension, and she didn’t have the usual headache from clenching her jaw in her sleep.
Almost as if good food and a fantastic bed were half of what she was missing in her daily life.
“Well, don’t get used to it,” she muttered to herself, throwing the covers off.
She had a daily routine, and she had not adhered to it yesterday. So she needed to today. And probably more than just her normal routine considering the amount of food she’d been eating since getting wrapped up in Zervou’s orbit.
For a moment, she paused, thinking of him. It all felt like too much—the food, vacation, paying for her own mother to seek treatment for her addictions, but it was just a drop in the bucket for a man with his wealth. And it got her closer to her own personal vendetta. And his.
Something she needed to remind herself of so she did not get caught up thinking he’d been kind yesterday. He had simply been a man with money using it to get what he wanted, and since these things were also what she wanted, it was acceptable to go along with it.
In a fight, one did not pull a punch simply because someone else was looking elsewhere. And life was nothing if not a fight. So, she would land whatever punches she needed to with no guilt, no concern.
Take what you need. It’s the only way to survive. A motto from her boxing coach when she’d been younger, and she held tight to it now as she surveyed the spacious bedroom.
There was enough room that she could get some preliminary exercises done here. Perhaps there was some kind of fitness center at the main part of the resort, but as she wasn’t quite ready to face Zervou this morning to ask, she settled for the floor.
She sat on the rug next to her bed and started with stretches.
It felt good to move, to take stock of her body and not feel a boulder of stress in her neck and shoulders.
No, it was more like a few pebbles now. They would grow, if she allowed her thoughts to go down that path, but she focused on breathing, stretching, counting instead.
Settle into her body. Picture what it could do in a boxing ring.
Once her muscles felt warm, she moved into a plank position, then did pushups, driving herself until her muscles were screaming. She’d need to find some weights at some point today, maybe after sailing, but for now she could do the bare minimum with just the weight of her body.
She shifted, moving into a sit-up position.
She’d gotten through a handful of these exercises when she saw something move out of the corner of her eye.
She glanced over on her way up, only to find Zervou standing in the now open doorway.
He wore nothing but a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants low on his hips. His hair was almost tousled.