Chapter 3 – Markos
The hour-and-a-half drive down the coast to Tampa flew by on autopilot.
I wove through traffic, going fifteen over the legal limit like every other Floridian.
I stopped in front of a glass office building and stared at the top floor.
It might be only nine in the morning, but knowing Atlas, he’d been here since before the sun rose.
Tossing my keys to the valet, I strode inside.
The receptionist’s smile was wide and glossy, her perfectly white teeth flashing. She flicked a glance at my face, then found somewhere else to stare.
“Beautiful day, Mr. Demetriou,” she chirped. Her blouse was cut low, and she didn’t shy away from tempting me to look.
But she didn’t want me. Pretty girls like her never did. The only reason she flirted with one so physically marred was because she knew I was rich.
“It is indeed,” I said absently. As always, the water called me. On sunny days like this, a Publix sub, a case of beer, and the boat made for the perfect trio. Unless I made a compelling case, there would be no more of those days in my future.
They would bury me out there, under the waves.
Whatever else the young woman was going to say was cut off as I pushed through the swinging security blockade and strode to the elevator.
A short trip up, and I faced another receptionist. This one more beautiful than the girl downstairs and surrounded by an office full of colorful birds...just the way the voice of our organization liked it.
“Is Atlas in a meeting?” I called as I walked by.
“Mr. Drakos is in his office. There are no meetings on his morning schedule,” she informed me, perfect nails tapping on the tablet in front of her.
In front of the corner office, the hag was perched on her throne. Becca Stevenson was classically beautiful, and it was impossible to tell her age. Face free from paint, nails unpainted, and hair clipped boyishly short without a provocative style, Becca was a creature from nightmares when incensed.
Exactly why she guarded the CEO’s office.
“He’s busy.” Becca’s grey eyes were full of warning. Unlike the beautiful women flitting about this place, she never had a problem meeting my eye, of looking at my fucked-up face.
The woman was immune to monsters.
“Good.” I marched past her and pushed into the office.
Atlas looked up, annoyance tightening his features. “Let me call you back, Hektor. Markos is here.” There was a pause. “Alright, I’ll see if he’s heard anything on the streets about the sender.”
The CEO pressed a button on the receiver and took out his earpiece. The gun-metal grey suit was customed tailored to fit his lethal frame.
“We received another letter?” I mused. “What is that, three?”
“Four,” Atlas growled.
“Mr. Drakos, do you want me to escort Mr. Demetriou out?” the prim secretary said with a slight sneer. She might just be the only woman strong enough to do it. The temptation to make her try was almost too much to resist.
“No, it’s fine, Miss Stevenson. Markos knows it had better be important to barge in here,” Atlas clipped out.
Behind me, the secretary closed the door. If I wasn’t high on her shit list, I would be now.
“So no one knows who’s sending the letters?
Awful bold of our would-be competition to announce themselves like this.
‘We are going to take you down.’ ‘Watch out!’ ‘We’re coming for you.
’” I let out a half laugh before I tipped my chin up and to the side.
My neck cracked, relieving some of the tension.
“They’re either cocky or they’re stupid. My money is on stupid.”
“What did you do this time?” the CEO accused, ignoring the annoying piece of business that the leaders of our syndicate were dealing with and jumping to the heart of the matter.
I plucked a decorative glass apple from the basket on his personal conference table. “Accusing me? What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“With you?” Atlas snorted. “What the fuck did you do, you ugly mutt?”
Mutt...that was a good way to describe a monster like me. It was one of the kinder terms used by the leadership of our organization.
Tossing and catching the apple, I moved to the window. Past the other structures creating a metropolitan jungle, the faintest glimpse of the sea sparkled beyond. If I ran now, I could dive into the waves and swim away.
“Markos!”
“There’s a guest staying in the village,” I said, keeping the sigh from escaping.
Darkness filled the CEO’s voice. His polished business veneer was dangerously close to slipping, and the de facto king of the criminal empire was close to coming out to play—which he would by the end of this conversation. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is an outsider doing there?”
“She was abducted by mercenaries who mistook her for their target.” The apple sailed high in the air.
“Markos—you didn’t.”
The apple dropped into my palm. “I did.”
“Christos sancti.”
The red orb rose again and fell.
“You were expressly forbidden from kidnapping the Bratva princess.”
If only the Fates were that kind.... “She’s not the Ivanovich girl.”
With lightning speed, the apple was snatched away. Rough hands gripped my shoulders, and Atlas spun me around. My back slammed against the windows.
“You disobeyed. We decided to find another way to access the East Coast markets since Ivanovich won’t deal with us.”
“What can I say, I thought my idea was good,” I drawled.
“Good? Good! You got the wrong girl.” Wrath clouded his face. “Un-fucking-believable.”
I fisted my hands, submitting to his anger only out of respect to his position in our organization. The sooner he took his pound of flesh, the sooner I could leave.
“With everything else we have going on, you did this? Tell me why you shouldn’t leave here in a body bag?” the underworld king growled.
“One, it’s a business day,” I bit out. “While Becca has probably seen shit, the rest of your pretty birds haven’t.”
“I can be discreet,” he snapped.
“Then who will clean up my mess?” I countered.
“Literally anyone else.” Atlas shook me.
A deep breath filled my lungs as I fought the instinct to stay down.
“I’ll fix it,” I promised. “I only paid you the courtesy of telling you in person, like a man. But I’ve got it under control.”
“No!” Atlas pushed me and took a calculated step back. He ran a hand down his tie and straightened his Brioni suit. “No, you’ve done enough.”
“I don’t think you heard me.” I took a step forward. “This is my mess, and I’ll be the one to fix it.”
His fist flew out. I saw it but didn’t side-step. Pain exploded across my face, and my neck snapped back from the contact.
That was the only hit he was allowed.
When he moved to strike again, I caught his arm, using forward momentum to force him back.
“You can’t punish me without the blessing of the Twelve,” I snarled. Atlas might be the voice-piece, holding more authority and respect, and therefore responsibility, but he was still subject to the co-rulership of our collective.
His voice dripped with venom. “Trust me, they won’t mind.”
“Then call a meeting, and we can continue this later. Right now, I have a civilian to deal with.”
Cursing, Atlas untangled himself. Re-straightening his suit, he marched to his desk and plucked his phone from the charging pad. “She’s seen too much. She’ll have to become one of us.”
I grabbed the apple from the floor and went to drop it in the basket. It cracked against the other two apples, causing the CEO to hiss in warning.
“How do you propose to do that?” I grumped, stretching and yawning my jaw. Fuck, he packed a heavy punch. It had been some time since I last squared off with him in the ring for fun. The way my cheek ached was a visceral reminder of why that was generally a bad idea.
“She’ll marry one of us,” Atlas said dismissively.
“You volunteering, celibate?” I sneered.
Atlas let out a dark laugh. “No—I don’t have time for a wife. But...it should be one of us. Iosif is looking rather peaked. He needs a woman.”
The muscles in my chest constricted at his quick, effective solution. I pushed the strange reaction away. It made sense. And I had bigger fish to catch.
My phone buzzed. I didn’t need to look to see the summons in the group text. The meeting would be tonight, and it would be on the beach, the only suitable place to deal with these kinds of matters.
I moved to the door, but Atlas’s voice stopped me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To the village.” I ripped it open. “There’s still a mess to clean.”
“No more shit, Markos,” Atlas warned.
I tossed the king a grin. “Of course.”
That earned me a growled curse, but I was already leaving. Atlas could fume and rage all he wanted. He had certain rights as the oldest, but we were on equal playing ground when it came to ruling our empire. And there were matters that only I could attend to.