19. Tia
I stared at the ring on my finger, a stunning sapphire surrounded by diamonds, unable to believe what had happened. The images of what had passed between us in Belgium were never far from my mind, wafting around and through me in every spare minute, even after we’d returned to Greece.
I was lost in the memory of the moment. It was giving fairytale. I kept tilting my hand to stare at the gemstones like I didn’t totally believe it was real.
After the proposal, Chrys surprised me by planning a week-long trip to a few Greek islands.
The ancient ruins of Delphi, which I’d dreamed of seeing before Katalina cut my plans short, became our first destination.
We spent peaceful days exploring the ancient ruins and walking hand in hand where the Oracle once delivered prophecies.
From there, we journeyed to Meteora, where the monasteries perched impossibly on towering rock formations took my breath away.
We watched sunrises paint the stone pillars golden and hiked the winding paths together.
Something about those structures, defying gravity yet standing for centuries, felt symbolic of our own unlikely love.
That week had erased any lingering doubts. Standing between heaven and earth at Meteora, I knew with absolute certainty he was the man I was meant to be with.
Now that we were back at the villa, things were different. There was something between us that seemed so much more comfortable, an ease that hadn’t been there before.
What surprised me most was his family’s reaction. I’d braced myself for opposition, for accusations I wasn’t good enough for their son and heir.
Instead, their concerns had been primarily for my wellbeing. Yiayia had taken my hands in hers, asking if I was prepared for the scrutiny that would come with marrying into their family .
Aristides had inquired about my parents and I’d carefully sidestepped it. Even Irida had smiled as though she’d seen this coming all along.
Chrys and I continued to sleep in separate rooms—Domna’s rules—but spent every free moment together. I accompanied Chrys everywhere, my driving improving with each lesson he gave me on the winding coastal roads.
After several more visits to Thalassía with each family member and numerous family meetings, I’d finally completed the conceptual design.
Each trip had deepened my connection to the island, helping me understand the family’s vision and their ancestral ties to the land. Now I waited for their approval, hopeful they would appreciate the design I’d poured myself into creating.
When I presented the final concept to the family, I felt confident and at ease. The presentation flowed naturally as I explained the choices I’d made to honor both tradition and innovation.
Aristides nodded thoughtfully as he examined my 3D renderings. “Approved,” he said. “You may proceed to schematic development.”
As the others filtered out, Aristides lingered. “Miss Massey,” he began, his tone formal yet not unkind. “My son may not have told you this, but you will need a lawyer. ”
“Why would I need a lawyer?”
“To discuss your prenuptial agreement,” he replied, as casually as if we were discussing the weather.
I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. “A prenup? You think I’m after your money?”
Aristides’ expression remained calm. “It’s not a reflection of you or your character. It’s simply a way to protect both your interests. My family’s wealth requires certain safeguards, but more importantly, you need protection too.”
“I don’t need to be protected from Chrys,” I said.
“Of course not,” he agreed with surprising gentleness. “But there are many considerations. Property rights, inheritance, children.” He paused. “You’re entering a world quite different from the one you know. This isn’t about trust, but practicality.”
I stared at him, wanting to argue but finding his logic frustratingly sound. I thought about Chrys’s racing, his impulsivity, his family’s complex business holdings. What did I know about navigating any of this?
After a moment, I nodded slowly. “You may be right.”
Aristides’ face relaxed. “You are good for my son,” he said quietly. “I hope he is equally good for you.”
“He is,” I replied firmly. “We balance each other.”
“Wait—you still haven’t told your mom you’re engaged?” Kayla blinked at me like I’d grown a second head.
We were seated in the estate’s backyard under the dappled shade of a tree. Between us sat a mannequin head with human hair positioned on a small table.
Kayla had taken it upon herself to teach me to braid since I couldn’t. A skill she insisted was “fundamental”. Her fingers moved with ease, demonstrating a simple three-strand plait for the fifth time.
“Not yet,” I admitted, wincing as I tangled the strands between my fingers.
“Girl. Why are you playing with your life? Are you second-guessing—”
“No... it’s not that.” I released the mangled braid, letting my hands fall to my lap. “It’s just...”
The truth was, I was terrified of what my overreactive mother would say. How would she react when I finally worked up the courage to tell her? Would she accept the man I loved?
“I planned this trip to Greece behind her back. I accepted this job without consulting her, and now I’m engaged to a guy she’s never met.” Like... how am I even supposed to ease into that conversation? “She’ll view me differently for sure... maybe love me a little less.”
My parents had gotten married young and had me soon after. But I had no idea how Mom would react to my whirlwind romance. She never said what she expected from me relationship-wise, but somehow it felt like I already failed the test.
I remembered how devastated she’d been when her best friend Ashley became my stepmother, transforming overnight from Mom’s closest confidante to a woman who treated me with contempt. Ashley had been sleeping with my father while I was still undergoing cancer treatments.
That trauma had shaped Mom’s every protective instinct. Now here I was, having fallen for Kat’s ex, essentially inserting myself into another woman’s story. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Kayla’s hands moved deftly, creating a perfect plait while maintaining eye contact with me. “From what you’ve told me about her, I’m sure she’ll be supportive... eventually.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell her,” I countered, reaching for my iced tea. “Or maybe I can tell her after the wedding.”
“Are you crazy?” Kayla laughed. “She’ll kill you for sure.”
“You’re right.” I sighed, returning to the mannequin head. “But I’m not telling her tonight or tomorrow. ”
Kayla shook her head, watching as I attempted the braid again. This time, my fingers moved with more confidence. “At least she’ll be impressed by the new skill you’ve learned. Because that one’s almost as good as one I’d have done.”
We chuckled just as Chrys appeared through the garden archway, with Zeus trotting beside him. Zeus immediately bounded over to me, while Chrys’s presence set my nerve endings afire.
“Is my fiancée going to braid my hair next?” he asked with a straight face.
I scoffed, not even bothering to visualize how ridiculous that image would be. “Maybe next time.”
As Kayla looked on, Chrys lowered his head and pressed his lips to my temple. “I made us reservations for dinner. We could discuss which hairstyle would suit me best.”
His teasing smile left me momentarily speechless, making Kayla roll her eyes dramatically at our exchange.
I took my time getting ready for our date, choosing one of the dresses Kayla had gifted me—a silk emerald slip dress that draped perfectly against my curves. Her taste in clothes was exquisite, making me feel almost juvenile for my previous clothing choices.
When Chrys came to my room, his eyes lit up, and I knew I’d hit my mark. His gaze traveled slowly from my face to my bare shoulders, lingering with unmistakable appreciation .
Dinner was at a small restaurant overlooking the sea, the tables illuminated by hanging lanterns. The setting was relaxed and our conversation flowed easily.
Over dessert, Chrys reached across the table for my hand. “Angel, I was thinking we needed our own place. I spoke to a realtor, and we could start looking next week.”
I paused with a spoonful of honey-smothered crème caramel on the way to my mouth. “Why? What’s wrong with the estate?”
“I want to be able to sleep next to you at night,” he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “Having you down the hall is killing me.”
Suddenly, the dessert was too much. Too sweet. Too everything.
“I want that too, but getting a place is serious.”
“Tia, we’re engaged,” he reminded me, gesturing to the diamond. “We are serious. I want us to have a place of our own. Here. In Athens.”
I withdrew my hand slowly, needing space to think.
“Chrys, my life is in the States. You have a large family, but my mom only has me. Plus, I’ve only been here three months.”
His jaw tightened. “And in two weeks, you’re supposed to leave. Fourteen days, Tia.”
“It’s not that simple— ”
“Actually, it is,” he interrupted. “You either want to be with me or you don’t.”
“That’s not fair. You’re asking me to give up everything.”
Chrys’s jaw tensed. “I would move in a heartbeat if I could. But that agreement with my father—”
“I know,” I said tiredly.
His expression softened as he reached for my hand again. “We’ll visit your mother often. Buy her a house here. Anything.”
My heart twisted. I wanted to say yes, to leap without looking as he did. But the ocean between my old life and this new one seemed impossibly wide.
“I just need more time,” I whispered, hating how his face closed off at those words.
“Time,” he repeated, the single word carrying the weight of his frustration. “Of course.”
I watched the disappointment shadow his face, and I couldn’t bear it. Reaching across the table, I recaptured his hand.
“But time doesn’t mean no,” I said softly. “And it certainly doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“What if we start with something… temporary? A rental? While I figure things out? ”
His irresistible, panty-dropping smile returned. “A rental,” he repeated. “With a big bed.”
I laughed, feeling the heaviness between us dissolve. “With a very big bed,” I promised, leaning forward to kiss him properly.
On the drive back, Chrys placed his hand on my bare thigh, his fingers stroking my skin. The contact sent waves of heat through my body despite the cool air from the open convertible top. By the time we made it back to the estate, I was ready to drag the man into my bedroom.
Only the moment we stepped through the ornate front doors, a maid approached us. “Mr. Christakis, Miss Massey,” she said quietly, “you’re requested in the study immediately.”
My stomach dropped. At this hour? Nothing good ever came from a late-night summons.
“Let’s go.” Chrys’s hand tightened on mine as we made our way to the study.
When the door opened, I saw Katalina. She was red-faced and teary-eyed, looking broken. One look at her teary face, and I knew she was on some bullshit.
Beside her stood her father, a man I’d only briefly met during the time I stayed at their family’s home. His face was as red as his daughters, only with rage rather than misery .
I looked beyond them, and my stomach sank when I realized they were ringed by the entire Christakis family. Their expressions were somber and unreadable.
Domna was seated between Irida and Kayla on the couch. It seemed like Chrys’s grandmother was holding back tears and I wondered briefly if someone died.
“I demand you marry my daughter,” Kat’s father barked at Chrys, clenching his fists as if prepared to follow up on his speech with a visual demonstration of his ire.
What?
I might have been confused, but Chrys was amused, at least on the surface. His laugh was dismissive and harsh.
“I will do no such thing.” He followed that up by saying something in Greek.
Aristides didn’t share his amusement. “For once in your life, can you be serious?”
“Why should I?” Chrys retorted. “The idea of marrying Katalina is preposterous. Why would I entertain such hell?”
Katalina gave a huge, heaving sob and wiped the back of her hand dramatically across her eyes, making her mascara smear even worse than it already had.
“Because I’m pregnant,” she announced. “And it’s yours.”