Leonidas
“Why didn’t you just wake me up with sex, darling? I missed you so much. It’s been months.”
Lydia moved to wrap her arms around him, but he stepped back just as she was about to reach him.
The evasion caught her off guard, nearly causing her smile to falter.
But she caught herself in time and sat on the couch instead, crossing her legs as she did, in hopes of reminding him of all the wonderfully hot times that they had as lovers.
“I apologize for coming unannounced.” The billionaire remained standing, making no move to sit, making no move toward comfort or familiarity. “I should have called ahead.”
“Don’t be silly.” Lydia’s tone was bright, warm...and completely hollow. “You’re always welcome here. This is your apartment, after all.”
Technically true. He’d purchased the Milan property six years ago, placed it in her name two years later as part of their arrangement.
She paid no rent, no utilities, nothing.
Her lifestyle was funded entirely by the investments he’d made on her behalf, investments that had grown substantially under his management.
She’d done well out of their arrangement.
Better than she probably deserved.
“Would you like something to drink, darling? Scotch? Or that Greek wine you like? I can ask one of the maids—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Lydia remained smiling even though she was panicking inside.
She’d heard that tone twice before in her life.
The first time from her college sweetheart, Derrick, when he’d left her for an older, wealthier divorcée who could fund his medical school.
The second time from her own lips, when she’d left her elderly husband for someone richer and even more elderly.
The tone of goodbye dressed up as courtesy.
“I’d like you to take a look at this.”
“Of course.” Her tone was steady, but her hands were what betrayed the real state of her emotions, shaking as they did as she accepted the legal envelope the billionaire handed her.
She already knew what the documents inside of it were about, but seeing it written in black and white still had her seeing red.
“May I ask what brought this about all of a sudden?”
“Our arrangement has simply run its course.”
In other words, he was telling her to mind her own business, and Lydia’s panic started to devolve into something harder. Sharper. And violently unreasonable.
Why, dammit?
Why was Leonidas Gazis terminating their six-year arrangement?
Why was he choosing to walk away from her?
Was he truly leaving her for his stupid, boring wife?
“The property remains yours, free and clear. The investment portfolio I’ve managed on your behalf is also yours, transferred entirely into your name. You’ll find the returns have been...substantial.”
Substantial was an understatement. He’d taken her modest savings and turned them into millions.
She was now wealthier than all the women she knew who hadn’t been born to it.
Wealthier than she’d ever dreamed possible when she was a middle-class girl from Brescia with expensive tastes and limited means.
But unlike his stupid, boring wife, she’d never be enough.
“You’ve been more than generous,” Lydia managed to say with a brittle smile.
“I’ve been fair.” He buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
When the billionaire rose to his feet, she did so as well, smile still carefully in place.
“I wish you well, Leonidas.”
Tawny eyes narrowed at her in unnerving scrutiny. “You’re being surprisingly accepting of this.”
“I know when to accept defeat.”
“Try not to think of it in that manner.” His voice was almost gentle. Almost. “It might delude you into thinking that there is something for either of us to fight for. It is ideal if you consider this as a new beginning instead.”
A new beginning.
As if she could simply start over. As if losing him was just another chapter closing, another door opening.
“You’re right as always, darling.” Lydia walked him to the door, knowing better this time than to attempt a goodbye kiss as she used to do. If she were to betray her plans the slightest, she knew he would act fast, and she would never be able to do anything.
So she kept smiling until the billionaire was gone.
But the moment the door closed behind him, and she heard his limousine drive off—
Lydia SCREAMED.
Her tantrum lasted an hour.
She threw everything she could throw. Shattered the crystal vases he’d given her.
Ripped the silk curtains from their rods.
Overturned the coffee table with its expensive marble top.
The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood echoed through the apartment until the neighbors called building security.
By the time she was done, the living room looked like a crime scene. Shredded fabric, shattered crystal, overturned furniture. The cream leather sofa she’d been so proud of was gouged with knife marks.
It would all have to be professionally remodeled.
She didn’t care.
After that, she went on a three-day drinking spree. One wild party after another, moving through Milan’s nightclub scene like a woman possessed. Drugged. Drunk. Growing in rage with every passing second.
By the third night, collapsed in some stranger’s penthouse with dawn breaking over the city, one thought crystallized with perfect, terrible clarity:
I will get him back.
She didn’t care what it would take. Or who would get hurt in the process. She would kill anything or anyone that got in her way. Run them over again and again if she had to.
Because without Leonidas, she would go back to being nothing.
And she would rather die—and have everyone else die with her—before letting that happen.
****
Leonidas’s phone rang as soon as he slipped back into his limo, the name on his screen giving him pause.
Interesting.
“Your timing is remarkably impeccable, Adriano.”
“I seem to detect a note of suspicion in my favorite client’s tone.” Adriano Kontides’s voice carried the dry amusement of a man who knew exactly what he’d done.
“You forget that we’ve also known each other for years.”
“And?”
“You’ve had me followed, did you not?”
“I prefer ‘monitored.”
“Perhaps I should’ve chosen the word ‘stalked’ instead.”
“I only wanted to know which of the contract drafts I’ve prepared will have to go to the shredder.”
“And I assume you have your answer?”
“Check your inbox.” Another pause, this one weighing differently. “And Leonidas?”
Leonidas simply waited.
“It was high time you did the right thing.”
The phone call ended, the backhanded compliment causing his lips to tighten while a part of him remained...unsettled. Adriano was one of the few people in this world who had the balls to tell the truth to his face. Unfortunately, it was the kind of truth that had taken him a long time to accept.
Eight years, dammit.
For eight long years, neither he nor Lexy had given their marriage a real chance. And the reason for that...even now, he did not want to look too deeply into. Some stones were better left unturned. Some truths better left unexamined.
The attachment in Adriano’s email loaded.
It was a contract that canceled everything previously agreed upon. No more separate lives. No more boundaries. No more executor reviewing their every decision against some bloodless metric of financial impact.
It was a contract that proposed to make his marriage real.
For better or for worse.
It was also a contract he was willing to sign.
But whether it was a contract he had any right to offer his wife...
That remained to be seen.
****
Mrs. Sanchez’s expression was expectedly blank when he returned to the jet. “Welcome back, Mr. Gazis.”
The older woman stood in the cabin doorway, her face carefully neutral. But Leonidas had worked with her long enough to read the subtle signs. The tension around her eyes. The way her hands clasped in front of her, just a fraction too tightly.
She knew where he’d been. Of course she knew.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Sanchez.” He loosened his tie as he climbed the stairs. “You can stop pretending.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” The words were stiff, formal.
“This is the last time I’ll be flying to Milan for personal reasons.”
“I’m still not sure—” Mrs. Sanchez’s eyes widened as the meaning behind the words finally penetrated. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh my word. Oh finally. You’ve come to your senses.”
“So you were pretending then?”
Mrs. Sanchez pretended not to hear this and instead pulled out her phone with the kind of determined efficiency she usually reserved for hostile takeover negotiations.
“This is Mrs. Sanchez, assistant to Leonidas Gazis. Yes, I’d like to order two dozen red roses, please.” She glanced at her boss, eyes slightly damp. “Delivery to the Park Hyatt New York. Penthouse suite. Within the hour if possible.”
She heard her billionaire boss chuckle—a low, rusty sound, as if he’d forgotten how—and the sound had her furiously blinking back tears.
Christmas had come early this year.
And she could not wait to see just how delighted her young mistress would be once she found out that her husband and his mistress were no more.