CHAPTER TEN
Soon, the Panamera glided to a halt before what could only be described as a modern palace. Alaric led me across the threshold into a foyer where my heels clicked against marble that stretched endlessly in all directions.
Somewhere beyond the gleaming walls, voices murmured while the aromas of roasted lamb, citrus, and aged wine wafted through the air. My father's house, the grandest home I'd known, suddenly felt like a country cottage in comparison.
"I won't leave your side," Alaric murmured, his voice barely carrying in the cavernous space.
“If you need to leave, leave. I'm perfectly capable of navigating social waters alone."
His laugh was low, a ripple of dark amusement, his eyes filling with something between appreciation and something else. "Oh, I'm aware, but the pleasure of watching you do so belongs to me now. I’d rather enjoy the view from beside you.”
We rounded the corner into a sitting room vast enough to swallow my father's entire house. Every head turned at once. Light fractured through crystal above us, scattering across marble floors and illuminating the faces of the Kostas dynasty.
Two men rose first. Cassian, Alaric’s brother, and Derrick Voss. I'd studied their photos enough to recognize them instantly.
Cassian moved toward me with unhurried confidence, his hazel eyes assessing me from beneath a sweep of dark hair.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk that suggested he'd never met a boundary he hadn't crossed.
He was taller than Alaric by a few inches, his frame imposing and filled out.
Derrick stood beside him, straightening to his full height without a word.
The light caught on his ebony skin as he tilted his head, close-cropped curls framing features that could have been chiseled.
His eyes held mine—sharp yet somehow warm—as if he could dismantle my defenses with just that steady gaze.
"There she is," Cassian announced, extending his hand as he came closer. "Welcome to the lion's den, Selene."
"Cassian," Alaric warned, the single word carrying weight.
His brother’s smirk only deepened.
Derrick reached for my hand next, his grip confident but not overwhelming. "Ignore him. His charm only appears when there's someone to impress."
I smiled, feeling immediately at ease with him. "And when are you charming?"
"When I'm bored," he quipped with a grin before he stepped aside.
Next came a woman who moved like fluid grace in emerald silk, dark waves framing features that belonged in Renaissance paintings. She introduced herself as Penelope. Her perfume reached me first, bergamot and rose, before her arms enveloped me and a tight hug.
I was not a hugger, but I stopped myself from tensing up and hugged the woman back.
"Oh, you're stunning," she breathed against my cheek, pressing kisses to both sides. "Alaric wasn't exaggerating for once."
A man she introduced as her husband materialized behind her—Jason—all clean lines and quiet confidence. Where she radiated, he observed. His handshake was firm but not imposing.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the family, Selene. I’m the most normal one here."
“Him saying that should tell you he’s full of shit,” Cassian objected good naturedly.
The room seemed to inhale as two final figures approached, Dominic and Eirene Kostas.
The current Kostas patriarch and matriarch.
Eirene floated toward me in black silk and some kind of diamond hairpiece woven through her perfect chignon like stars.
Her smile appeared warm, but something sharp glinted behind it.
Dominic Kostas followed, silver threading his dark hair, his presence commanding the space without effort. His blue eyes that were so much like Alaric’s, missed nothing.
"What a vision you make together," Eirene remarked, her voice like honey, before turning to murmur to her husband in Greek. ‘A fine match, a clever choice.’ Then, to me, “You understand that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I replied, in the same melodic tongue “I appreciate the compliment.”
Her eyes flashed with approval and a hint of curiosity. “I know we’ve known one another for a whole sixty seconds, but I can tell you’ll do just fine here with us,” she stated, stepping aside so that her husband could greet me.
He stepped forward, taking my hands with unexpected gentleness. He inclined his head, studying me. "Selene. At last, we meet. The wait has been considerable my dear."
At last? Hadn’t this just been arranged?
“And now that you’ve been made to stand in a receiving line, please make my son take you to sit down.”
I laughed lightly, and Alaric guided me to a plush settee.
I sank into the cushions, surprised by the depth of comfort despite the rigid elegance of the room.
I took a moment to study the space—tastefully adorned with art that looked like originals rather than reproductions, furniture that didn't scream wealth but whispered it in understated tones.
Everything after that blurred together in a haze of genial laughter and conversation. Penelope was quick to make me feel welcome. She spoke fast, her hands animated. Her husband balanced her energy with quiet charm—his humor subtle and not as bold as hers.
Dominic and Eirene Kostas asked questions they seemed genuinely interested in having the answers to. I met their gazes steadily and answered with ease.
Eventually we moved into their formal dining room.
The table stretched like a runway, polished to mirror-brightness, each place setting arranged with military precision.
Alaric's palm brushed the small of my back as he guided me to his right, a touch so light it barely disturbed the fabric of my dress yet somehow branded me as his in front of everyone present.
Penelope made sure she sat on my other side.
Eirene took charge then, her smile never faltering as she guided us through topics with grace, never letting anything breach a subject that would make me uncomfortable.
Across from me, Dominic observed in silence, his eyes missing nothing while Cassian and Derrick exchanged barbs with friendly banter.
Beside me, Alaric remained a study in stillness, as silent as his father. His shoulder occasionally brushed mine, his voice a low rumble when called upon, but I felt the weight of his attention like a physical touch. Not for show. For assessment.
At some point, uniformed employees appeared with delicate glass bowls of lemon custard garnished with crystallized citrus and purple blossoms. As talk turned to vineyard yields and spirit preferences, I gradually began to relax.
"So, Selene." Cassian's called softly, smile glinting like the platinum at his wrists as he leaned forward. "How does it feel to be thrust into the Kostas fold? I doubt the whispers did us justice."
"Cassian." Eirene's tone remained light, but her warning was clear.
I offered her a grateful smile and then answered him. "The whispers didn't come close," I replied, earning a soft chuckle from Derrick across the table. "But I suspect you'd be disappointed if they had."
Cassian's eyes sparked with something that might have been respect. "You’d suspect right."
"The whispers are hardly our concern," Alaric added, his voice carrying a subtle edge. "Selene will form her own opinions."
Dominic chuckled, studying both me and his son. "I think we’re off to a good start then.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest as the conversation bloomed again around us, but when I glanced at Alaric, his eyes hadn't moved from my face.
The afternoon light had softened by the time we stepped outside.
Eirene had insisted I see the gardens before leaving, and I hadn’t had the heart to decline. The Kostas estate stretched like a world unto itself. Terraces layered down the hillside, fountains catching sunlight in fractured gold, every path manicured to perfection.
Beauty lived here, but it was the sort that seemed to whisper, admire, don't disturb. Alaric walked beside me in silence for several minutes, hands in his pockets, his stride unhurried. Something electric hummed in the silence between us, not quite tension, not quite ease.
“You handled them well,” he commented at last.
“Your family?”
He nodded. “Cassian can be abrasive. Derrick enjoys stirring him up. Jason might actually be the most normal one, if you don’t go by the usual definition.”
“I noticed,” I replied dryly, a humored smile touching my lips. "So today was an evaluation?"
He paused mid-step, facing me. "Does it change anything if it was?"
I turned too, tilting my head back to look up into his impossibly blue eyes. We were close enough that the crisp scent of his cologne mingled with the garden air between us. The late afternoon sun caught in his dark hair. Our chests were nearly touching.
I tried to ignore how the tailored edges of his jacket framed shoulders that seemed carved from stone, how nothing in his expression betrayed anything less than perfect control, and focus on what actually mattered, which was answering his question.
“Nothing I say can change what’s happening right now.”
"You're right," Alaric agreed. "Nothing you say can change what's happening."
I smiled, but this time it held no humor. "I know."
"No," he replied, stepping closer until the space between us disappeared completely.
His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering against my cheek.
"You don't know, though, because when I told you before that I'd honor your word if you didn't want this marriage, I've since changed my mind. "
The garden air suddenly felt too thin. My pulse quickened beneath my skin as his words registered. "Why?" I asked, wanting to know what changed even if in reality it would change nothing.
His eyes darkened as they traced my features, his thumb brushing across my cheek in a touch so light it might have been imagined. "Because I've decided I won’t let you go.”
I felt caught between the instinct to retreat and the inexplicable urge to lean into his touch.
"I'm not yours yet," I reminded him.
His smile was slow and predatory, revealing the edge of his straight white teeth. "Aren't you?"
The question was loaded with meaning.
"My father—."
"Has no power here," Alaric finished for me, his hand sliding to cup the nape of my neck. "Your father trades in fear and control. I deal in absolutes. The difference is that he pretends choice exists where it doesn't." His thumb traced small circles against my skin. "I'm not pretending anything."
I remained as I was, allowing myself to get used to his touch, partially distracted as I silently turned over his words.
I wasn’t all that bothered by his declaration, or the casual way he'd stripped away the illusion of choice he’d given.
At least his brand of possession came with honesty, which is what had had me asking my next question.
"What about the woman you were with before. Your previous engagement?”
"I wondered if you would ask about that. It’s no big secret. We were no longer compatible."
The photos would say otherwise, but so would the ones of my father and I when we’d been caught in someone’s lens.
"You're being deliberately cryptic,” I accused softly. “I don’t need to know intimate details, but I’d like to be aware of where I fit or if I'm being measured against a predecessor.”
His expression shifted, his thumb stilling against my skin. For a moment, he simply looked at me, his gaze penetrating as if peeling back layers I didn't know I had.
"You're not a replacement," he said finally, his voice dropping lower. "You're not measured against anyone who came before. There is no comparison. You aren’t stepping into someone else's shadow. You aren’t a continuation of an abandoned chapter. You’re the very beginning of something new."
"Something new," I repeated.
“Do you understand what it means to be my wife?" The question wasn't gentle. His eyes burned into mine. "Not the sanitized version from the doctrine. I'm asking if you understand what it means to be mine.”
He went on before I could answer.
“It means your safety becomes my singular obsession because my enemies will become your enemies. But that also means that when you walk into a room, you do so with the Kostas power wrapped around you like armor and trust no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”
His words settled into my bones, heavy with promise and threat intertwined.
"And what do you actually get from this arrangement?" I emboldened to ask.
His smiled down at me, but it wasn’t one I would call warm or sweet. "I get you."
“That doesn’t seem like a great trade-off.”
"You, your loyalty and your commitment to our future together will be more than worth it. Everything else we can negotiate in time.”
"You’re talking as if you know me well enough to be so sure of that. We only met recently,” I replied quietly.
"I've been aware of you for longer than you realize, Selene."
The admission sent a chill down my spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "That sounds disturbingly like stalking."
"It's called due diligence." His tone was matter-of-fact. "I don't enter arrangements blindly."
Well, that made sense. I already knew he didn’t blindly decide to make me his wife, but there had to be some driving force behind it he wasn’t telling revealing. I studied him, trying to decipher the layers beneath his words.
"That's not really much an answer."
"It's the only one that matters right now." His fingers finally slid from my neck, and he reached for my hand, his fingers entwining with mine.
It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but he’d already given far more than my father ever had. There were no false promises, no pretty lies. Just truth, however stark.