Chapter 17 – Markos
I was never one for monkey suits. I preferred loose linen pants if I had to wear clothing, otherwise I was diving into the ocean in nothing but a Speedo or the skin the Good Lord gave me.
But it was hard to argue that the expensive, perfectly tailored suit didn’t look damn good on me.
So long as the dim lighting concealed what I truly was.
Black on black, it helped me blend into the backdrop of the bustling club.
It was my turn to take the weekend shift here. Just because we ran a profitable import ring and had an equally successful fishing front didn’t mean our assets weren’t diversified. We built this place to wash our ill-gotten gains.
But Delphi was popular in its own right.
The exclusive club beckoned the wealthy of Tampa Bay to spend their evenings relaxing on pillows, sipping exotic drinks, or dancing under the faux star ceiling.
Influencers raved about the Ionic Columns carved from real marble as they ate their overpriced finger food and small bites boards.
They said they felt like they really were in another world.
At exactly nine o’clock, Iosif stepped through the door with a deep scowl etched in his face.
Sending a quick glance around the room, he locked eyes with me.
I flashed him a smirk. The poor thing, having to escort his baby sis and her new friend to the club.
It was good for him to be away from the mourning and sorrow.
When Iosif first mentioned how Evangelia wanted to come here with Serena, he thought there was no way in hell I would say yes. But it was the way he’d phrased it, the way he’d assumed he knew my mind. I had to prove that he knew nothing. He wasn’t in control.
I was.
I inched from my post to peer around the edge to better see the entrance. Arms linked like schoolgirls, Evangelia and Serena walked through the door. My heart stopped short and then restarted with a wild, frantic rhythm.
Serena wore a fitted white dress that hugged her figure, its black ribbon details delicately tracing the curve of her waist. The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, and the contrast of the ribbons against the pristine white made her stand out like a striking silhouette.
As she walked into the room, heads turned, and whispers of admiration followed in her wake, as if she’d descended from an immortal realm.
A goddess, visiting earth to torment the children of man.
I gripped my throat and moaned.
Not only was she sin incarnate, walking like a fruit that was ready to be plucked and devoured, but she belonged . It didn’t matter who she was. The Fates sent her to me, and my determination to keep her grew daily.
Granted, her presence was a contradiction to my earlier resolve.
I wanted the power of being bound to a wealthy, connected criminal family.
The bratva princess was still available for the taking.
The only thing stopping me was my own inaction.
Excuse after excuse came to my mind. Finding the culprits responsible for my cousin’s murder, the never-ending work being one of the Twelve, this club, the dangerous shipping ventures, and the day-to-day work in the village.
I let it all distract me when the truth was so very simple.
I didn’t want the Russian heiress. She didn’t belong in my bed.
There was already a woman there. And I would very much like to join her.
I rubbed my jaw. The ridges and dents of the mottled flesh itched with a vicious reminder of what manner of creature I appeared to be. She called me monster jokingly? She wasn’t wrong. I was a gnarled creature from the deep.
But...Serena hadn’t run from me. She might be able to tolerate being shackled to a hideous beast. And I would treat her as the goddess she was. Which was far more than I could have dreamed of when selecting a woman to share my life with.
The only thing stopping me was that she brought nothing beside herself to the union.
In the game of power and strategy, I needed a bride who elevated me .
Did that make me selfish? Admittedly. Was I a rotten bastard to pass on the beauty because she was a nobody?
Definitely, especially by modern standards.
But fuck culture. A bride had to raise my status.
Period. And Serena, while she probably came from wealth, didn’t have access to it.
If she had any sway in the realm of legal businesses and connections to the movers and shakers of society, I had yet to find a way to manipulate that to our advantage.
“We’re booked solid all weekend,” Iosif mused, flipping through the tablet in his hand as he came to stand by me. “Should be a tidy little profit.”
“What are they drinking?” I asked.
My cousin glanced up with a bewildered look. He followed my gaze to his sister and the little mystery. “Um, some chick crap.”
“Find out,” I instructed. The need to know everything about my houseguest trumped everything else.
“Dude, it so doesn’t matter,” Iosif commented.
That was where he was wrong. Turning on my heel, I marched to the bar. My forearms flexed as I leaned against the polished surface. “Karmelo, what was ordered at table three?”
The bartender responded without looking at the computer screen. Like any good employee in the service industry, his recall was impeccable. “A Hera and an Athena.”
Evangelia’s beverage was a rum and apple combination named after the queen of the gods. No surprise there. She liked sweet, fruity things. Thus her brother’s annoyed response.
But my little goddess chose wisely—an olive oil martini.
The herb-infused gin gave it a depth that most cocktails couldn’t achieve.
We were proud of the creation, and it was a popular seller.
For those strong enough to stomach the savory beverage, that was.
Most men even shied away from it, preferring something unoriginal like straight whiskey, while women liked their wine or sweeter beverages.
“Has their waiter checked in to see if they’re enjoying their drinks?” I asked, tapping my fingers against the bar.
“He has. They’re satisfied,” Karmelo asserted.
Good. “Send over a cheese board.”
Karmelo arched a brow but didn’t argue. A village boy, he knew more about the situation than most of the other staff. The men on my crew might be surprised at my interest in the newcomer, but they knew better than to argue. Or most did.
“What the hell is the plan with her?” Iosif snarled in my ear.
Ever since the tragedy of losing his brother, Iosif wasn’t himself. The sweet, funny lad had hardened overnight, becoming a beast in his own right. Cocking my head to the side, I looked up at him from under a darkening brow. “Watch your tone.”
“Seriously, Markos. We don’t know who this chick is. She could be trouble! Better to release her if you won’t let anyone marry her, or dispose of her body while we still don’t have the repercussion—”
I straightened to my full height, grabbed my cousin by the shirt, and slammed him against the bar. “No one touches a hair on her head.”
Surprise flashed through his eyes. “Alright, alright. Message received. She’s your woman.”
“My woman.” I tasted the words. “I like that. I like that a lot.”
“Markos,” Iosif warned. “Eyes on the bigger picture.”
“Fuck the picture.” Pictures changed.
With a final shove, I released him and began walking back to the pillar to resume my watch.
“Black Tide,” Iosif moaned. “Come on, man! She can’t be that good.”
I propped my shoulder against the column and stared at the golden-haired beauty. “I haven’t had her yet.”
Iosif stopped short. His hands lifted. Words stuttered on his lips. “You haven’t...fucked her? She’s been living in your house, sleeping in your bed! And you haven’t tapped that?”
There would be no tapping. Nothing casual about my time spent with her.
What Iosif failed to realize was that I’d caught something special.
And this wasn’t one I was chancing to let slip my hook.
If I hoped to keep her, things between us needed to be right.
I would reel her in slowly until she chose to fall into the net I laid.
“What about the Russians?” Iosif pressed in an undertone.
Danica was the smart choice. The one I should be pursuing.
But with every passing day, that became harder to remember. Eventually, I was going to have to stop lying to myself and lay that plan to rest for good. It didn’t mean I couldn’t find a more suitable bride—perhaps someone closer than Boston. But I was in no damn hurry to start looking.
“If I recall, you were the one talking me out of it. Changed your tune?” I quipped.
Iosif shifted. “I’m not sure Atlas has the best intentions. He’s not the leader I thought he was.”
I stuck my finger under his pert nose. “Never let me hear you say that again.”
Something black and volatile shifted through the lad’s eyes. “Fine.”
I took a ragged breath. I’d been in Iosif’s shoes once upon a time. Burying family left a scar that time never healed. But how he acted could—and should!—change. I was going to have to work on him.
A pop song with a sultry undertone came over the speakers.
It was like a switch flipped. Serena stopped whatever she was saying, her eyes fluttered closed, and her head tipped back.
Watching her body come alive with that spark was magnificent.
The waiter brought the cheese platter, but she didn’t even open her eyes.
Didn’t move a muscle as she soaked up the sounds.
Stuffing a few bites in her maw, Evangelia tugged Serena’s wrist, and with a reluctant side eye, she stood.
Her body swayed as she moved to the dance floor. Only a few patrons danced, but that didn’t stop the girls. Evangelia was spastic, like a bunny took a dip of crack cocaine. I’d seen her dance before. Iosif’s groan of dismay confirmed that he was having a conniption over his sister’s antics.
In contrast, my little goddess was grace incarnate.
That body pulled the music into her veins, making her limbs bend and dip with the ease and beauty of a willow. A pulse of heat shot straight to my groin. I needed to know what it was like to put my hands on her curves. That smooth, sun-tanned skin beckoned.
I took a step.
And then another.
Summoned by her siren’s call, I stole up behind her.
When she spun, I caught her hand. Serena gasped.
Her mouth parting in a perfect O shape. She didn’t resist when I flicked my wrist and effortlessly tugged her into my body.
Under the constellations, the heavenly light concealed my features well enough.
But she knew who held her.
“Always hiding from me,” she mused.
I twisted her out and drew her in, painfully aware that too many sets of eyes were focused on her. “I like the dark.”
“Spoken like a true vampire,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you let me come out tonight.”
“You’ve worked hard. Everyone deserves to let loose.”
She did a double take. “I didn’t think you paid attention to someone as irrelevant as me.”
Irrelevant? How did she figure that? Didn’t she know she was the object of damn near every straight male’s fantasy right now? I had to consciously relax my grip so as not to bruise her. Irrelevant—they stared at her. I stared at her!
“I notice everything about you, prinkípissa.”
She looked quickly away. Her confident steps faltered. I kept my hands tight on her, not letting her fall.
Fuck me, how did I not see it before? She was bitter about the way we’d left things after the incident at the Skorpios family’s mansion. I behaved badly that day, too consumed with my own problems. And in the days that passed between, I hadn’t been around to make amends.
That stopped now.
Before I could demand an answer, the song ended. I never wanted to kill someone as badly as I wanted to slaughter the artist. How dare he compose something so short? That song should have no ending. I wanted it to continue; how else would I exorcise the desire to touch this beauty?
Serena pulled away. “Sorry, Markos. It’s girls’ night.”
Head held high, she moved away.
Not fucking happening.
She didn’t get to just walk away.
I took two quick steps, yanked her around, and pulled her against me as I slipped to the edge of the room and away from prying eyes. My lips crashed into hers. There was a soft smile waiting there for me. It wasn’t surprise playing on her lips, but the smirk of triumph.
Serena entwined her arms around my neck. She tugged me close. Her mouth was ravenous, her kiss just as eager, and she held me tight.
I pressed my tongue against the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. After a heartbeat, she gave it, and my tongue dipped into her mouth. Hers flicked back in greeting. A rough groan churned in my chest. Fucking magnificent. This woman tasted...divine.
Serena sucked before catching it with her teeth. My inhale was sharp. But just as fast, she let me go. I didn’t move back, instead sinking my teeth into her bottom lip, giving the pillowy flesh a warning tug before releasing her.
Serena pulled back and gazed up into my eyes. “I’ve been wondering what it would take to make you kiss me one more time, pirate.”
I smirked. “All you had to do was ask.”
“I swear I can taste the sea on your lips,” she mused, reaching up to trace them with the pad of her finger.
My dick ached for more. I wanted to draw her away, take her to the sea and lay her out on the sand.
“Thank you, Markos, you’ve been a wonderful host. I’ve had a really lovely time staying at your place.” She slipped away, and I watched her return to her table.
Alarms sounded in my mind as she folded onto the cushioned seat, lounging like an Olympian against the damask pillows. What are you up to, little one?