Chapter Thirty
Seraphina
One Week Later…
“Why did he want to see me?”
I clung to Sergio’s arm, as we walked behind Lorenzo and Finley along a short dock until we reached a narrow stone archway carved into the cliffside.
You could hardly see it because it was partially hidden by bougainvillea and shadows.
There wasn’t any sign that said where we were, just a brass bell and a man in white linen watching us approach.
Apparently, Lorenzo and Vasilas were trying to come to some kind of agreement after Dorian’s death. But he wouldn’t budge until he talked to me. I didn’t know Vasilas all that well, but he scared the hell out of me.
“You’re his brother’s widow, Sera,” Sergio said. “You’re entitled to all his shit.”
“I don’t want anything connected to him, Sergio. He’s dead. I’m free. I just want to move on.”
After he killed Dorian, I convinced him not to send Dorian’s head to his brother. That wouldn’t do anything but make things worse. I just wanted this part of my life done. I just hoped Vasilas was ready to move on, too.
“Welcome,” the man said. “Mr. Drakos is waiting. Follow me.”
He pushed open the heavy, weathered door.
I’d heard of the Trident Room. And even though I’d been married to Dorian, he never brought me. I wasn’t sure if it was because it was a place where the Drakos family handled business, or if it was because Dorian brought the women he fucked here to party.
I looked around the place. There were only a few people here.
Shadows moved across the room as the amber lights flickered behind dark glass.
A black metal chandelier shaped like a trident hung from the ceiling, its tips glowing, casting a soft, dim light that barely lit the space.
If Vasilas was going for dark and mysterious, he nailed it.
“I can never get over how wild this place is,” Finley murmured as we made our way through what looked like the main room.
Thin, gold lines snaked their way through the shiny black tile of the floor, giving it a luxurious feel. Dark blue velvet drapes with gold tridents covered parts of the stone walls. Soft leather chairs sat in a triangle around a table made of driftwood and marble.
“This place is crazy,” I mumbled, agreeing with Finley.
“You’ve never been?” Sergio asked.
“Dorian didn’t take me anywhere other than family events. Most of the time I stayed home.”
I was embarrassed at how my life used to be with Dorian. He did a great job of isolating me from everyone. Making me feel like nobody cared that I was even alive. But it was a new day now. As long as long as Vasilas let everything go, I could move on with my life.
We stopped at one of the velvet curtains lining the wall. The man pulled it aside, uncovering a hidden doorway. Behind it was a long hallway that looked more modern than the rest of the Trident Room. But it also felt like we were walking into a dungeon.
“I don’t like this.”
The thick velvet curtain closed behind us, blocking out most of the noise from the main room. In front of us, smooth gray concrete walls stretched about ten to twenty feet. Soft amber lights, tucked into the baseboards and ceilings, lit the way.
Sergio pulled me closer to him by the waist. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Sera. I’ll fucking kill him if he tries anything.”
I didn’t doubt he would try to protect me, but I just wanted to see what Vasilas wanted, not start a bloodbath.
At the end of the hallway, a smooth black door sat level with the wall. It had no handle, no keyhole but had a glowing brass trident carved into its surface, like it was pressed into the metal.
When we reached the door, the man leaned in. A small, red-lit scanner about the size of a nickel sat at the base of the trident’s center prong. It lit up as he moved closer. The trident glowed followed by a sharp click. Then the door hissed, like air escaping, and slid sideways into the wall.
“Is that a retina scanner?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Sergio said. “It would seem Vasilas is also paranoid.”
“I will never get use to this shit,” Finley said, impressed with Vasilas’s setup.
It was impressive, but like with all mafia families, it was paid for with blood.
“Gentlemen,” the man in white said, “Mrs. Drakos.”
“Blaine.”
I corrected him but he didn’t respond, just stepped to the side, motioning us forward.
We walked in, then the door closed behind us.
A long black table, smooth and solid that looked like volcanic stone, filled the room.
Twelve chairs made of steel and black leather were arranged around it, all facing inward.
Behind the table, a huge, blackened brass trident hung on the rough, gray stone wall.
To the right, a tall window framed in dull steel ran the full length of the room, looking out over the sea.
Waves slammed into sharp rocks below. The glass blocked the sound, but the force of the water still seemed to hum through my chest.
“Have a seat,” Vasilas said.
My eyes darted to him. He sat at the head of the long table with Stavros, my other brother-in-law, sitting to his right.
I could feel the weight of both their gazes.
They weren’t affectionate towards each other when I was around but maybe they missed Dorian.
However, I couldn’t feel any sorrow for their loss.
He deserved to die and I was happy that I witnessed it.
Lorenzo sat at the other end of the table, Dante sat on his right, and Sergio and I sat on his left. Finley positioned himself by the wall, close to Lorenzo and Dante’s guards.
“Thank you for coming, Seraphina,” Vasilas said, his voice calm but edged with steel. “I’ll get straight to the point. I need to know what Dorian did to deserve death.”
“She’s not reliving all that shit,” Sergio snapped before I opened my mouth. “Do you want me to spell out what she looked like when I found her? What she’d been through?”
I didn’t blame him for being furious. He’d seen firsthand what Dorian did to me. He held my bruised and battered body, praying that I survived. But this wasn’t about me anymore. This was about ending the feud between two families.
I laid my hand on Sergio’s arm. He turned to me, jaw clenched, his eyes burning with fury.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
The fight was still in his voice but softened by his love for me. I met his gaze, then focused on Vasilas.
“If I tell you everything,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm rising in my chest, “will it end this? Will the Drakos family leave the Puglisi’s alone?”
Vasilas studied me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he nodded once. “If I believe he deserved what happened to him, yes, it ends today.”
I took a breath, the weight of the past pressing down on my ribs. “And I’ll be free?” I asked. “No one will come after me?”
“You’ll be free to live your life,” he said. “You have my word.”
Silence settled over the room. I could feel Sergio’s emotions beside me.
The way his muscles coiled like he was ready to fight the entire Drakos bloodline if I gave the word.
But I didn’t. I could say what happened to me if it saved everyone else.
Too much blood had been spilled because of Dorian Drakos. It was time all this ended.
“Then listen closely because I’m only telling this once. I’ve been through a lot with your brother, and I don’t want to relive it anymore.”
Vasilas leaned back into his chair then nodded.
I blew out a breath, as Sergio’s hand landed on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“At first, he was nice, and he treated me very well. I was still getting over a nasty breakup, and I liked his attention. But then the abuse started.”
“Why did you marry him, then?” Vasilas asked. “If he was abusive and mistreated you, all you had to do was walk away.”
“Because he threatened my family and Sergio, Vasilas. I couldn’t let anything happen to them. Should I have not taken his threats seriously?”
Vasilas just looked at me because he knew I was right to take Dorian at his word. He didn’t threaten without taking action. That was one thing you could count on with all the Drakos men. They meant every word they said.
“At first it was just verbal abuse, then it shifted to physical abuse,” I continued.
“He’d beat me until I was unconscious then rape me.
I’d wake up covered in blood, blood and cum covering my thighs.
Sometimes he used objects, sometimes he’d just do it himself.
He’s brutalized me so bad, that now I can’t have children. ”
Tears filled my eyes. I always wanted to be a mother. There had been times I dreamed about having kids with Sergio, but it never happened. And maybe that was a good thing, but now that I would miss out on having children it was just sad.
“I have scars all over my body from where he grabbed something and hit me with it, or he pushed me into something,” I continued. “I wished for death so many times.”
“That’s enough.” Sergio wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him. “She’s gone through enough, Drakos. If you want to avenge your brother’s death, take it out on me, but your family has done enough to her.”
“No, it’s fine, Sergio. He needs to know what kind of man his brother was,” I said, turning my attention back to Vasilas. “Do you remember the night you had a dinner party at your home, and Yannis Makros and Dorian got into it?”
“Yes,” Vasilas said, nodding. “Dorian said he disrespected him. He said Yannis said something inappropriate to you.”
I rolled my eyes. “The truth is Yannis asked me where I’d gotten my necklace. He was interested in purchasing something similar for his wife which is what both Yannis and I told Dorian, but he refused to believe either of us.”
The look on Vasilas’ face almost made me laugh.
That argument led to tensions between the Yannis and Vasilas.
The only reason I know was because Dorian always bitched about it and accused me of meeting up with Yannis in secret.
I always knew when business was bad between them because he’d accused me of sleeping with Yannis even though I’d only seen that man once in my life.
How could Vasilas not know how unstable his brother was?
“This was my punishment for leading Yannis on and our plan to leave our spouses to be with one another.”
I stood up and lifted my shirt just above my navel so he could see the long, jagged cut across my stomach.
All the men shifted in their seats looking at just one of the scars Dorian left me with.
When he said he would always be with me, he told the truth.
Even cosmetic surgery wouldn’t get rid of them.
“This is one of many,” I said, never breaking eye contact with Vasilas. “This is how your brother showed his love. Now, I’m sorry for your loss because he was your family but I’m not sorry he’s dead Vasilas because it was either him or me. And for the first time in our marriage, I chose me.”