Chapter One
A fresh start, not a divorce.
That was what Leonidas had been planning to propose when he called this meeting.
Frankly, to offer this was a leap of faith for him.
But he had never been a coward, and he certainly had no plans of acting like one now—especially when it was his wife who had taken the first leap of faith, the first one who had believed in him.
She designed the system with you in mind.
That was one of the things Aivan had revealed in their meeting. And it had discomfited him, but also humbled him, to realize how little he knew and understood the woman he had been living with for the past eight years.
All this time, he had looked at her as if she was his...ward. All this time, he had cared for her, but now it also made him wince, when he thought of how at the back of his mind, he had always thought he was doing her a favor, not the other way around.
He had never been accused of modesty, but it was now galling to admit how blindly arrogant he had been in the past eight years.
And that was why...
A fresh start.
He wanted that for both of them. He wanted...to give their marriage a try, no matter how strange and uncomfortable it would be. She was already his wife anyway, and in all honesty...he could not imagine himself spending the rest of his life with anyone else.
The realization had come to him somewhere between Aivan’s revelation and this moment, standing in his penthouse office with Athens spread below them like a glittering circuit board.
Afternoon light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning everything gold—the marble floors, the minimalist furniture, even Lexina herself as she stood near his desk with her hands clasped in front of her.
She wore cream today. A simple sheath dress that made her look impossibly young, impossibly fragile. Her dark hair was caught in that low bun she always wore, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. She wasn’t looking at him. Hadn’t looked at him properly since she’d arrived ten minutes ago.
He’d asked her here to discuss the racing project. To tell her that he wanted her involvement, her brilliance. That he needed it. Needed *her*.
But as it turned out...
“I want a divorce.”
A fresh start was the last thing on his wife’s mind.
Leonidas stared at Lexina in disbelief. “Parakalo?” The Greek spilled out instinctively, rough with shock. “Come again?”
The words seemed to unlock something in Lexy.
She felt like she was about to burst with all the things she wanted to say—eight years of things, an ocean of things—but instead she found herself avoiding his gaze.
Avoiding conflict by turning toward the window, her sensible flats silent on the marble. And it sickened her.
How did she not notice that the past eight years had turned her into a wimp? Her mother used to throw her hands up in surrender because of how stubborn she could be. And yet here she was, unable to muster the strength to—
Strong fingers suddenly encircled her wrist from behind, and all she could do was gasp as Leonidas turned her to face him in a blink.
His touch was warm. Too warm. She could feel her pulse hammering against his palm.
“Did you just ask me for a divorce?”
She managed—barely—to lift her chin and meet his tawny eyes, which were now blazing with something that looked like anger but felt like more.
The light from the windows turned his hair to molten gold, made the leonine planes of his face seem carved from bronze.
He was too beautiful. Had always been too beautiful. And she had never stood a chance.
“Yes.”
The single word came out steady. A small miracle.
Leonidas could not remember feeling this furious. How dare she want to leave him? Did she not know—
The familiar direction of his thoughts had him mentally slamming on the brakes, catching himself on time before he allowed his usual arrogance get the better of him again.
He made himself breathe. Made himself loosen his grip on her wrist, though he didn’t let go. Couldn’t. Not when she was talking about leaving.
This...was a misunderstanding. He might not know Lexina as well as he thought, but he knew enough to know that the past eight years were not a hardship for either of them.
Imperfect and unconventional as their marriage might be, he knew what he saw.
Knew what he had experienced. They had enjoyed their time together, and that was why—
“Where is this desire coming from?” His voice came out quieter than he intended. Almost gentle.
Lexy had been prepared for her husband to lose his temper, which she had never been subjected to but sometimes saw on display when he called an employee to task. One look alone from Leonidas had everyone shaking in their shoes, even sometimes causing men to sweat profusely or fight back tears.
But...this though?
This tone that was not quite hard, not quite soft, but something painfully difficult to describe because it almost made her feel—
No, don’t go there, Lex.
She couldn’t possibly hurt someone who was cheating on her.
And as soon as she remembered this, it was her own pain that came rushing back to the fore, her own pain that made her feel like she was about to...
“Why does it matter?”
Explode.
And that was what happened indeed, since the next thing she knew, she had already shoved him off—actually shoved him, her palms flat against his chest, feeling the heat of him through expensive cotton—and crying the words out like someone being torn apart from the inside.
Leonidas stumbled back a step. More from surprise than force. She’d touched him. Pushed him. His delicate, conflict-averse wife had actually put her hands on him in anger.
Where he once was.
Oh God.
Leonidas.
In her heart.
Why did she have to realize now of all times...that she had been in love with him all these years?
Why now, when she was absolutely sure that he neither knew nor would he even care if he did know that she was in love with him?
Why now...when she knew he already had another woman?
Her hands were shaking. She curled them into fists, felt her nails bite into her palms. The pain helped. Grounded her when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
Leonidas was starting to wonder if his wife had gotten into an accident in the past seventy-two hours, and that was why she was acting completely...irrational.
“What do you even mean by asking that?” he demanded, taking a step toward her. “You’re my wife—”
“Exactly!” She backed away from him, putting the width of his desk between them like a barrier.
“For the love of—what has gotten into you, Lexina?”
“What’s gotten into me?” The laugh that escaped her was sharp enough to draw blood. “I woke up, that’s what!”
“Stop talking in riddles—”
“Then stop lying to me!”
“I have never lied—” Leonidas stopped speaking when he saw the look on his wife’s face. Her eyes were too bright, her chest rising and falling too quickly. What the—
“Did Adriano’s wife tell you something?” he growled, his mind racing through possibilities. Thea had been at the house for tea two days ago. “Because whatever it is—”
“Stop blaming other people for speaking the truth!”
Leonidas stilled. “So she *did* tell you something—”
“She told me what you should have told me from the start! You owed it to me—”
“Just give it to me straight, dammit!”
Lexina wanted to cry. And scream. And...and strangle him. All at the same time! Why did he want her to be the one to say it? Why did it have to be her?
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
She only realized she had choked the words out the moment they spilled past her lips. And while it made her husband whiten—that didn’t give her any pleasure at all.
“Lexina—”
He took a step around the desk.
She took a step back.
He expected her to jerk away when he reached for her.
Even expected her to step back and avoid his touch.
But he was wrong on all counts.
Because the moment she heard her own name on his lips—that careful, almost tender way he said it—it was as if invisible flood gates had broken open, invisible tears had started flowing, and her pain—
“You...”
It was unseen. But audible. Palpable. A living thing that seemed to fill the space between them.
“You have a mistress.”
Four words. Just four words. But they unlocked everything. Four words, and everything became visible. Not just about the present. But the past eight damn years.
Leonidas went completely still.
The absurdity of it—the sheer, painful absurdity—hit him all at once.
And it almost...almost...
Lexy could not believe her eyes. “Are you—are you seriously, oh God, are you seriously smiling?”
He pressed his lips together, trying to contain it. This was not the moment. Not when she was standing there with tears tracking down her cheeks, her small body practically vibrating with hurt.
And the straight line lasted.
Or seemed to.
But after two more seconds—the sheer ridiculousness of the misunderstanding, the mental image of himself practicing celibacy for the rest of his natural life—
Lexy had already raised her hand without even thinking. Because that smile...for her husband to actually smile in the face of her pain—
But just as her arm started to swing—
“You asked me, remember?” His hand shot up, catching her wrist mid-air. Gently, but firmly.
Oh my gosh, was he actually going to try wriggling out of this when their lawyer already told her the truth?
“You asked me to take care of my needs.”
Lexy let out a strangled gasp.
And now...and now, oh the gall!
Was he seriously going to turn it into her fault—
“You even said—”
“I know what I said!” It was her first time to yell at her husband. Her first time. And despite everything, she hated having to do it. Hated it so much that her voice cracked on the last word, but—
“You didn’t care how I’d do it—”
Unbelievable!
“For as long as it didn’t cause any trouble—”
“And you said yes,” Lexina cried out, trying to pull her wrist free. He held on. “Do you remember that part, too? You said yes—”
“And that’s why I had a mistress.” His tawny eyes locked onto hers. “Because you gave me permission.”
“But you—”
Lied.
That was what she was about to say.
He had lied.
“You said you wanted me to take care of it—”
Or did he?
Her mind stuttered, trying to replay that conversation from eight years ago.
The specifics were blurry now, softened by time and embarrassment.
She remembered the burning in her cheeks.
The way she couldn’t meet his eyes. The stammering, roundabout way she’d tried to tell him that she understood if he needed. ..if he wanted...
“I meant for you to take care of it by doing you know what!”
Finally, Leonidas thought. Finally.
The truth was out.
“No.”
And now it was time to make her understand what that truth was.
“I don’t understand how else could I have taken care of my needs—”
“You’d take care of it yourself!”
“Which I did,” he pointed out.
“No, you didn’t!”
“Lexina—” He still had her wrist. Could feel her pulse racing beneath his thumb.
“Because when I...when I said that, it meant you’d take care of it on your own, like alone—”
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were red-rimmed and slightly wild. And she was refusing to meet his gaze now, staring instead at some point past his shoulder.
“Alone, you say?”
“I thought that was what you meant.” Lexy pressed her hands to her cheeks, and they felt awfully hot. As in...as awful as how defensive her tone sounded.
“W-Why are you making it seem like I forced you to do anything? You chose to say yes—”
“Because I did not think it was possible for someone to be so—”
Stupid.
Na?ve.
Brainless.
Those were just some of the words that went through his mind, but Leonidas, having seen the way his wife was still gazing at him with red-rimmed eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly—
“Innocent,” he said finally. “Only someone so...innocent would have seriously believed that it was healthy—”
Lexy could barely keep herself from squirming. Why couldn’t this conversation just...end?
“—for any man to take care of his needs on his own for the duration of his lifetime.”
Lexy could no longer understand herself. When did she go from heartbroken to embarrassed?
“And that is why I can stand by what I’ve said earlier.”
It still hurt to hear her husband’s voice, but the pain was not like before.
“I never lied to you, Lexina. I simply never spoke of it because to do so with my own wife would be in...bad taste.”
She tried...she tried to think what this all meant. But her mind simply refused to work. The embarrassment was too overwhelming, the relief too sudden, the confusion too thick.
“Lexina—”
She knew he would reach for her again.
And this time...she let him.
His fingers once again circling her wrist, but softer now. Almost careful.
Tawny eyes taking hers captive, searching for something she couldn’t name.
And that was when she realized...
“I still want a divorce.“
Nothing had changed.