11. Athena
ELEVEN
ATHENA
T he window in my room was open, the city noise buzzing with life and stars glittering above. I always slept with curtains slightly open, needing to see the sky when I opened my eyes.
I shifted on the soft hotel bed, trying to get comfortable.
Speaking to my mother earlier had opened the floodgates to the memories I had put a tight lid on. The box seemed to close in on me, just like it had all those years ago. The darkness. The pain. The terror. The fire .
Every time I let my guard down, believing I’d escaped my nightmares, they came back with a vengeance. I started to think they’d forever be around, following and mocking me through life until there was no more life left in me. Maybe it was time I sought out a new therapist.
Keeping my gaze locked on the stars, I put a hand on my chest, tapping it lightly as if it’d release the pressure.
I considered what my old therapist used to tell me when I experienced overwhelming sensations. To free yourself, you must face your demons; otherwise, you will never find peace .
“Not tonight,” I murmured under my breath, fluffing up my pillow, then shifting to the side.
Then I did something I hadn’t done in years. I began humming a song, each soft vibration pushing me closer to a restless sleep.
Darkness.
I could feel the heat from the fire inching closer to my skin with each breath, yet I was cold. My nails scratched against the wood. An invisible hand tightened around my neck.
“Please,” I tried to whisper but I couldn’t move my lips. “Mama, please save me.” But I couldn’t say a word. Tears blurred my vision. Snot ran down my nose. “Someone, please.”
I would die here… burn alive.
Then suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed me. They were gentle, unlike the men who shoved me into this box. Yet, I thrashed against him.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. It’s okay.”
I forced my eyes open just as cold fingers pressed against my neck. The first thing I noticed were tattoos underneath his ash-smeared white shirt. But when I looked up at his face, I couldn’t distinguish his facial features. Everything looked hazy aside from stormy ice-blue eyes.
When he grabbed me by the neck, he hissed, “Breathe.” The order was clear and the frantic look in his eyes demanded I obeyed. “And don’t you dare stop.”
I took my first breath, oxygen expanding my lungs. Then another, and slowly, the tightness in my chest started to loosen up.
But I needed to know who this was. I had never seen him before. Why did he save me?
“I don’t want you wrapped up in this fucked-up mafia world, Athena Kosta.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “I’ll ensure nobody can find you from now on.”
His words made no sense, but I still nodded as if they did.
I moved my lips. “Who are you?”
“One day you’ll learn, but for now, kiddo, you better stay alive.”
I awakened with a jolt, my breathing harsh and my nightgown damp from sweat as the memory of the night that started the nightmare lingered in the back of my mind. My eyes darted to the window, the bright colors splashed against the dark sky as dawn crept up.
My hand came to rest on my chest to ease my thundering heart as I pushed the memories back into the vault along with gratitude for the man who saved me and hatred for the man who’d caused my mother so much pain.
The visit with my mom was turning out to be different from past ones.
She’d never been this open to discussing things she’d previously kept from me. And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more secrets she was keeping from me.
After my morning walk through Seville and a light breakfast at the local pastry shop with my standard Spanish treat of café con leche , I made my way back to the hotel.
I had a few more hours with Mom before catching my flight back to Paris.
Parked in front of the hotel was a dark, official-looking sedan with two stone-faced and very well-dressed men standing next to it.
I flicked a curious look their way as I approached. One had an off-putting, dark aura, but the other one was striking. My eyes locked on him, his muscled body wrapped in a sleek, three-piece suit. An easy smile played on his lips, his green eyes shining like he’d just heard a joke. As I let my eyes rake down his body, my attention was captured by a tattoo I hadn’t seen in a very long time.
I stumbled, horrified as I began to topple over, heading face-first into the pavement. Time seemed to slow as the cobblestones inched closer and closer, until I felt strong arms catch me and set me on steady ground.
“Are you okay?” A set of green eyes eyed me warily, and my eyes fell to the tattoo again. A black symbol etched into the open mouth of a skull. The last time I’d seen a similar one, I was sprawled over my mother, crying and praying we’d live to see the sun rise.
“Yes, yes,” I muttered, lost in my thoughts as I shook his hands off of me. Worried that my coffee would resurface, I bolted inside to safety. I had to get upstairs—had to get to my mom. After all these years, had they finally decided to come for us again? Why? How did they track us down?
Steeling my spine, I rushed through the lobby. Once inside the elevator, I frantically pressed the button for our floor, and as the door slowly closed, the last face I saw could’ve belonged to the devil himself. I brought a hand to my mouth and closed my eyes, shaking away the image of sunken cheekbones, green eyes, and dark, slanted brows.
It felt like an unstoppable ride to a certain death as I watched the floor number change, taking me higher and higher. Come on , come on , I thought as I curled my palms into fists and braced myself for the bell to ding and the doors to slide open.
Whatever happened, I wouldn’t cower, I wouldn’t beg.
Ding.
I swallowed and stepped out into the suite. It was empty.
Sighing, I kept my steps silent as I moved around the living room. It was then that voices registered, coming out of my mother’s bedroom.
My palms sweating, I reached for the glass vase on the shelf and raised it, dread brewing in my belly.
“Atticus is looking for you.” The voice was familiar, yet my brain refused to catalog it. “And so are the Triads. You need to tell me what you took, Alexandra.”
“I have no clue what you’re implying,” my mother said, her voice tight and raspy. “You’re looking good, Marchetti.” I stiffened, recognition immediately sinking in. The voice was familiar because it belonged to Manuel . “I dare say even better than the last time I saw you.”
“Cut the shit.” Manuel sounded mad. Did he figure out who I was and use me to track down my mother? What the fuck was happening? “Your charms didn’t work on me a decade ago, and they won’t work on me today.”
I sucked in a breath, careful to remain quiet as I tucked myself into a shadowy alcove.
She took a step closer to him, trailing her bright red painted fingernail over his impeccable suit. She was touching him . I looked away for a moment, fighting off the urge to tell my mother to get her paws off him.
“Don’t be like that, Manuel,” she purred in her seductive voice, her eyes sparkling with worship. The fact that she was touching him made my blood heat. “We could give this another go.”
Manuel regarded her with indifference, his lip curling in distaste, and I fought a grin.
“Thank you, but I’ll pass,” he stated coldly.
“Your loss.” The saltiness in her voice was unmistakable, clearly indicating my mother felt slighted. She flashed him a sickly-sweet smile, batting her cat-like eyes. “You should give in to your wants, Manuel. It’s a lot more fun than being uptight.”
“I want answers,” he demanded. “You have no idea the shit you’ve landed yourself in…”
“How did you find me anyhow? Cassidy Tech led by Nico Morrelli assured me they could hide my footprint on the web and hide my identity.”
Manuel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “And how can you afford such a luxury?”
“None of your business.” Mom reached into her bra and, to my surprise, pulled out a cigarette. Since when did she smoke?
Manuel was unfazed. “You should demand a refund, because information on you is readily available.”
She stiffened. “Just on me?”
Uncertainty laced through her voice and something about it sent a pang through my chest.
“Who else?” Manuel narrowed his eyes on her, dark enough I could feel the coldness on my skin and he wasn’t even looking in my direction. “Whatever you got yourself into, it’s not going to end well. The people who are after you—Christ, Alexandra… The Triads are not a group to mess with.”
Mom got herself together, her tone suddenly steady and almost bored. “Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy with me.” There was a silence for a few beats. “What did you do to them?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll let you know if you’re on the right track. Otherwise, I can’t see how any of this is your business.”
“It’s my business when the Triads linger in my territory, asking questions about you. And it’s my business when Atticus Popov is roaming the continent, looking for you.”
So that was my father’s full name. Atticus Popov . Maybe I wouldn’t need to do my own digging after all, as long as my mother kept Manuel talking.
“Atticus who?” Mother asked, managing to sound curious.
I suppressed a sigh. Really, Mom?
“Your ex-lover,” Manuel deadpanned. “Stop acting. You’re terrible at it and a horrible liar.”
There was a long pause before my mother spoke again. “Fine, yes. Atticus was my first lover, but I have nothing to do with him now. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him in over twenty-three years, and I don’t intend to.”
“Maybe you don’t, but whatever you’ve done, the Triads want to settle the score. I suspect no amount of protection from Emiliano or his guards will keep you safe. Not to mention everyone you love.”
I heard footsteps and rushed into my room, hiding behind the door, clutching the vase against my heaving chest.
This had only opened the door to more secrets—possibly lethal ones—that my mother was keeping from me.