Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
LYKOS
Asharp knock echoed through the penthouse, tearing through the fragile silence and admission Violet and I had shared.
For one selfish second, I considered ignoring it. Violet was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and she still smelled like smoke and gas. I was in no better condition.
But then another, firmer this time, knock sounded.
“Who could it be at this hour?” she murmured.
I exhaled slowly and forced myself to relax and said, “Probably the police.”
I crossed the marble floor of the penthouse, Violet following close behind me, and I opened the door.
Chief of Police Nikolaou stood outside in a dark police suit, two officers lingering behind him. The chief looked exhausted, deep lines etched into his face, silver streaking the hair near his temples.
“Chief,” I greeted.
“Mr. Costello.” His gaze flicked briefly toward Violet before returning to me. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“It’s fine. Come in.”
He stepped inside while the officers remained outside, and I shut the door.
“This way, Chief,” I said, gesturing for him to follow me to the living room.
“Actually, let’s just stay here,” he replied. “This won’t take long, and I’m eager to get home to my family as I’m sure you’re eager to deal with yours.”
I nodded.
The Costello family had always had a close relationship with Chief Nikolaou and with his father before him.
“Is everything okay?” Violet asked, her gaze darting back and forth between the old man and me.
The chief shot me a look, unsure whether he should talk freely in front of her.
“It’s okay, Chief,” I said, wrapping my arm around Violet. “Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of Violet.”
He gave me a terse nod.
“The fire inspector completed the preliminary investigation.” He paused carefully. “The fire has officially been ruled an accident caused by a fault in the gas line.”
Beside me, Violet went still.
“Anything I need to worry about?” I asked flatly.
“The villa is completely destroyed,” he continued. “But there’s sufficient evidence to support the conclusion.”
Violet’s voice came quietly. “And… Amara?”
A shadow crossed the chief’s face.
“Her remains were found amidst the rubble.” His tone softened slightly. “The report will be written up and probably a short investigation by another fire inspector.” Violet stiffened beside me. “But there should be no cause for concern. He’ll agree with me.”
“That’s good. Right?” Violet asked, studying Chief Nikolaou.
“Unofficially,” he said slowly, “there are already rumors regarding Amara’s ghost haunting the estate. You know how people gossip and how wild their superstitions are. It doesn’t help that she hadn’t really been spotted in over a decade.”
“I don’t owe anyone an explanation,” I gritted. “And I certainly wasn’t going to parade Amara around so people can snicker and laugh at her.”
“Like I said, locals like to gossip,” he said. “Officially, we’ll have this recorded as a tragic accident, and you should see the case closed out in a week or so.”
I held his gaze. “Understood.”
“How are the children?” he asked.
“Resting.”
His expression eased slightly. “Good. Keep them home from school for the next few days. Especially the little girl.”
“I was planning on it.”
“If you need anything, contact me directly.” I nodded once. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said before he turned to leave. The door shut behind him, and silence swallowed the room again.
Violet wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you think there’ll be trouble?”
I pushed my hand through the smoke-stained hair. “No. The chief has always had my family’s back. Besides, there’s no evidence to reveal what had happened.”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Violet murmured. “We don’t want Aria and Dimitros learning that Amara tried to… kill us all. They already suffered enough.”
“Dimitros might suspect it.” My son was too mature for his age and a part of me regretted that he missed out on childhood and teenage mischievousness because of who his parents were. Yes, Amara was mad, but my own way of living required him to be extra cautious too.
Violet’s arms wrapped around my waist and I found comfort in that small action.
“Papa?”
The small voice belonging to Aria had both of us turning instantly.
Dimitros stood at the end of the hallway, hair messy and his face pale beneath the dim lighting. Aria stood beside him, clutching a blanket tightly to her chest, her eyes red.
Violet and I crossed the room immediately, and I pulled them both into my arms.
“You should both be resting,” I murmured against Aria’s hair. “Where is the oxygen mask?”
“I heard voices,” she responded, reaching for Violet’s hand. She seemed a bit disoriented. “What happened? How did we get here?”
“Is Mother dead?” Dimitros’s question hollowed something out inside my chest.
Aria stared at me and Violet, waiting for me to deny it.
I wished I could. I wished I could lie to them just this once. But I’d spent too many years lying for Amara already.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “She died in the fire.”
Aria’s face crumpled instantly.
“We forgot to get her out?” She whispered the question.
“No, we didn’t forget her,” Violet assured her. “But she didn’t want to be saved, baby. I think she… she just wanted peace.”
“Did she suffer?” she asked softly.
I thought about the flames. About the smoke. About how she almost killed my children.
And despite everything she’d done… despite the rage and horror… Part of me still remembered the woman she used to be before madness consumed her.
“No, she didn’t suffer,” I lied. “Amara is finally at peace.”
Aria buried herself against Violet, sobbing, and I looked back at Dimitros, who stood perfectly still. He knew I lied. He knew I didn’t want him to remember Amara the way she was most of his life.
Dimitros nodded once, his composure intact. But I didn’t miss the way his mouth trembled.
I pulled my son against me. I didn’t care that he was almost a man. To me, he would always be my son, and I would always protect him with everything I had.
“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured against me, clinging to me.
I closed my eyes briefly and held my son tighter.
For years, this family had been built around surviving Amara’s instability. Around managing her moods, hiding the damage, enduring the chaos.
But now she was gone.
And standing there with my son in my arms while my daughter clung to her real mom, I realized surviving the fire had been the easy part.
Now we had to survive the memories that Amara left behind.