Chapter Eleven #2
He considered for a moment then shook his head. ‘It’s not what I would have done. I would have made them pay. But I understand the need to move on from the negative.’
That was what he’d done whenever he found someone trying to use him, Dido included. He’d dropped the connection like a hot potato.
But if there really was such a rift between her and her siblings…
His jaw clenched as he considered the implications.
‘It’s the truth, Panos. The last time I saw them or spoke to them was when my parents died.’
He wanted to take her word for that. It surprised him how deeply he wanted to. Seeing the flat, almost haunted look in her eyes he did believe. Yet at the same time…
He scrubbed the back of his neck, tension cramping his vertebrae.
‘How did your half-brother know about us? You said you hadn’t even told your family about our marriage. Yet when he contacted my staff and they put him through to me, he knew about the island wedding and that we were back in Athens.’
He stopped, reliving that moment as if it were yesterday. When his shiny happiness shattered before the familiar, eviscerating disappointment that had soured every previous attempt at a relationship.
The betrayal had been worse than any that had gone before. Because with Dido he’d truly believed…
‘He told me you’d confided in him about the marriage. That you’d advised him to act straight away to get me to invest in his company.’
Panos saw her nostrils flare as if in distaste. It was there too in her pinched mouth and flashing eyes.
‘I never said a word to him. It was all lies. But,’ she said before he could interject, ‘after I admitted to you that I hadn’t told my family about us, I felt guilty.’
She looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. Reading her expression he kept silent, waiting for more.
‘At first I was so caught up in the romance of us that I didn’t want to step out of our bubble.
Then we got to Athens, it was obvious I’d walked into something I wasn’t prepared for.
Your money made everything more complicated.
I wasn’t ready for a bodyguard or personal shopper or attending high society functions, much less the paparazzi you warned me about. ’
She snatched a sharp breath that reinforced how hard she found this. How hard she’d found it then.
He’d been so busy congratulating himself on their relationship, so sure everything would work out. He’d known becoming part of his world would be an adjustment for Dido but he hadn’t fully appreciated how tough it had been.
‘I delayed telling my aunt because suddenly things didn’t seem so simple and I was out of my depth.
I knew she’d pick up on my doubts about whether I could cope.
But I knew how disappointed she’d be, so I finally rang her just a few hours after I told you I hadn’t been in contact.
She was leaving that night for another overseas job and I couldn’t put it off any longer. ’
‘You’re saying Flavia told Fitzallan?’
‘Of course not! She loathes him.’ Dido took a long drink of water as if needing to fortify herself.
‘He turned up at her door out of the blue. She wasn’t going to let him in but he started talking about the company he’d inherited from Dad and family ties and she thought he’d finally had a change of heart.
She thought he’d come to mend fences and make up for stealing my share of the inheritance. ’
‘But he hadn’t.’ Panos had never met the man but that one phone conversation had been enough to tell him all he needed to know about Charles Fitzallan-Jones.
Dido’s head shot up from her contemplation of her water glass. ‘No, he hadn’t.’ She grimaced. ‘He needed funds. He thought my parents might’ve settled some money on Flavia for me before their deaths. He must’ve been desperate to think we’d give him a penny.’
Panos countered. ‘Or sure of his ability to charm.’
He’d met the type. Born to privilege like himself, but without the competence or work ethic to succeed alone. Yet that didn’t dent their inbuilt belief in their own brilliance.
‘Anyway.’ Dido hunched forward, cupping her glass in her hands.
‘He was in the flat when I rang Flavia. She hadn’t heard from me for a while and automatically answered because she’d begun to wonder if I was okay.
She went to another room with the phone for a few moments and arranged to call me back. ’
‘And you think he heard part of the conversation?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘It’s the only explanation. I told her I’d married and was in Athens. I mentioned your name and she repeated it as if she couldn’t believe what I’d said. He must have listened at the door. It’s the sort of thing he’d do.’
It was possible. Marriage, Athens and Panos Diamandis. Those were the key facts on which Fitzallan-Jones could build his story when he’d rung Panos.
As for knowing about their island wedding, it would have been easy for him to find out where Dido had been working.
Flavia might have mentioned it in conversation, or perhaps he’d tracked down where she worked and discovered the location of her last assignment.
It would be simple if he said he was her brother and needed to contact her.
Panos surveyed the woman before him. She was agitated. Because she’d concocted the story or because it was the truth?
He thought about Charles Fitzallan-Jones. A man who’d tried to convince him to pour money into his unsustainable business. Panos’ enquiries had unearthed a failing company, once successful but gutted by mismanagement and, he suspected, profit skimming by the CEO.
He remembered Dido in those early days, everything about her open and uncomplicated. Instinct had told him she was exactly what she seemed. What he’d sought all those years.
Had instinct been right after all? Had she been set up by her half-brother? Then denied the chance to explain because Panos had convinced himself the only way to survive was to cut off contact?
That was what he’d always done to the users who clamoured after the Diamandis name and fortune. He was ruthless in adhering to that rule. It was what had kept him sane in a world where money meant too much.
Panos gripped the table, knuckles bone-white as suspicion turned to certainty. He could have people check and confirm what Dido said. But his hollowing chest and churning gut signalled he already knew the truth.
Dido’s words explained the disconnect between the woman he’d fallen for three years before—yes, fallen for, despite trying to pretend he hadn’t—and the gold-digger Fitzallan-Jones described.
Now he thought about it, the man’s more damning revelations about her had come when Panos declined his proposition.
Until then he’d just used her name to try to convince Panos to support him.
The woman with whom he’d spent the last few days was the same woman who’d charmed him from the first, if you discounted her anger, which was completely understandable.
Of course she’d keep the baby from you. You ended the marriage by text then blocked her calls. You had her escorted from the apartment while you weren’t there.
Why would she let you near her child? Besides, you’d threatened her with legal action if she contacted you.
Pain stabbed so hard he couldn’t breathe, could barely think. What he’d done…
Panos catapulted to his feet, his chair falling backwards.
His eyes found hers, wide and misty green, and again he felt the connection between them. How had it survived what he’d done?
‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was unrecognisable, the words ground from a throat lined with the shards of his shattered ego.
He wasn’t an easy man but he’d thought he was at least doing some good in the world. He was scrupulously honest and tried to support those without the advantages he had. He’d never deliberately harmed anyone.
Until Dido. The one woman who’d deserved his care, his loyalty.
‘You deserved better from me.’
It wasn’t enough but it was all he could manage now. Panos spun away from the table and strode out into the darkness.