Thirty-One
ALLISON
A llison was in shock.
She blinked, her mind scrambling to process the impossible. Her father— the Oliver Lockwood—knew. Somehow, he knew who her baby’s father was and that she was living with him.
How?
How in the world had he found out? Whoever spilled the beans was going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Because this just made her life a hundred times more difficult.
“Allison, none of us said a thing,” Johnathan, said. His voice was that of a parent explaining to a toddler why the ice cream was all gone. It only made her feel more homicidal. “You know the kind of connections he still has.”
Oh, he’s more connected than the mafia and NASA combined, she thought grimly.
Allison gave a quick, jerky nod. One. Two. Three, just for good measure. She sucked in a deep breath, as if oxygen alone could push her through the next words. “So, what did he say?”
Johnathan winced, like she’d asked him to walk barefoot over a mile of Legos. “He wasn’t exactly… thrilled. He said he ‘doesn’t wish to contact you ever again.’”
Oh. That was it? Well, it wasn’t a picnic, but it wasn’t exactly a flaming garbage fire either. She’d expected worse.
Johnathan hesitated, as if bracing for her to crumble into a sobbing mess on the floor.
But she was Allison Pink Lockwood, dammit.
She wasn’t going to shatter over this. She was unbreakable. She’d survived drowning, the mess of her own life, her terrible luck, and every cosmic curveball the universe threw at her. She wasn’t about to let her father’s temper tantrum be the thing that finally sent her off the deep end.
“Okay,” she said, her voice firm.
Her brother’s eyes widened. Now he looked genuinely worried. Like, “ Oh God, she’s snapped and doesn’t know it yet” worried.
She didn’t even want to glance at Angelo. Knowing him, he’d be staring at her like she was a wounded puppy, ready to hand her tissues and chocolate. His compassion was sweet, but right now, it would probably push her over the edge.
“Did you really hear what I just said, Shrew?” Johnathan asked, creeping toward her like she was a live grenade.
She shot him a glare. “I understood perfectly well, Johnathan .” His name hit the air with the force of a sledgehammer. Her brother visibly flinched. She didn’t use his full name often, but when she did, it meant she was dead serious. No more babying. No more coddling. She wasn’t their little sister who needed protection. She was a grown woman—no, a badass force of nature—and she could handle whatever was thrown her way.
“We just need to let him have his temper tantrum,” she said, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve like she was dusting off the whole problem.
“But—” Johnathan started.
She cut him off. “You know Dad as well as I do, John,” she said, raising an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her. “Do you honestly think talking to him right now is going to accomplish anything?”
Johnathan looked like she’d just punched him in the gut. He slumped, defeated, his shoulders sagging. And for the first time, she felt a pang of sympathy. John was always trying to please their father, just like she was. And just like her, he failed. Every time. The only thing that got their father’s approval was work. Success. Perfection. And that was what made this whole situation even more of a punch to the gut—John was set to inherit the family business in less than ten months. At thirty-five, he should’ve been more than ready. But no, their father had pushed it back a year, calling him ‘unworthy.’
Unworthy . As if running a multi-billion-dollar corporation was some simple bar exam he could just retake. The pressure was suffocating, and Allison could feel it radiating off her brother in waves.
They could never be enough for their father. No matter what they did, how hard they worked, or what milestones they reached, it was never enough. And yet, they still kept trying. Chasing that ever-elusive approval, knowing full well it would always slip through their fingers.
Until, inevitably, their father reminded them why they shouldn’t bother at all.
Like today.
“Well,” Allison said, taking another deep breath, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Guess I won’t have to send a Father’s Day card this year. That’s a relief.”
Angelo snorted from behind her.
Johnathan gave her a look that suggested he was torn between laughing and strangling her.
“What if I meet with him?”
Allison jumped. The deep voice she had come to enjoy— too much for her own good—came from right behind her. She spun around, heart thudding, only to find herself face-to-chest with the man in question. Great , she thought, glaring up at him. It bugged her to no end that, at five-eight, she still had to crane her neck to look at him.
“And why,” she demanded, poking his solid chest with her finger, “would you think that’s a good idea?”
Angelo shrugged, utterly unconcerned, as if this was all just another afternoon stroll. “Do you have a better one?”
The audacity. Her father—king of stubbornness—was not a man you reasoned with. He didn’t listen to anyone, least of all his children, and especially not Angelo Taylor, the man he probably despised more than slow Wi-Fi.
Allison jabbed her finger again, her frustration pouring out of her. “What makes you think that my father, who refuses to listen to anyone but his own voice, will take advice from you? His enemy?”
Angelo caught her finger mid-jab, his large hand wrapping around it as he leaned into her personal space. She tried not to notice how nice he smelled or how his proximity sent an irritatingly pleasant shiver down her spine.
“I want to help you, Allison,” he said softly, his tone annoyingly sincere. “And it seems to me that, selfish prick though your father is, he’s also a damn good businessman.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re going to… strike a deal with him?” She stared at him, incredulous.
She had to admit, the man had gall. Her father was about as easy to negotiate with as a bear in a beehive. But if there was one thing she knew about Angelo after nearly seven months of being around him, it was that he was relentless. If he wanted something, he’d find a way to make it happen—even if it meant doing the impossible, like convincing her father to listen to reason.
So, instead of unleashing the protest that was bubbling up inside her, she just sighed. “Fine. What’s your plan?”
Angelo, apparently satisfied with her reluctant agreement, released her finger and straightened to his full height. He turned to Johnathan as if the whole discussion was over. “You hungry, John?”
Oh, for the love of—
Allison felt her blood pressure spike. “We’re not done here, Angelo—”
“Starving, actually,” Johnathan cut in, casually siding with the enemy.
Allison’s eye twitched. That fucking bastard.
One hour later, they were eating. Again.
Allison wasn’t sure how they ended up at Angelo’s massive dining table for the second time that day, but here they were. This time, they’d managed to rope Katerina into joining them. She’d put up a fight at first, but the growl of her stomach had clearly betrayed her.
It was an odd seating arrangement, one that made the table feel more like a battle line. Allison had strategically placed herself next to Katerina, with Angelo directly across from her and Johnathan to his right. It had the distinct feel of a sisters vs. brothers debate.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” Johnathan said, his fork pausing mid-air as he stared down at his plate. The look on his face said he half-expected Angelo to admit he’d ordered takeout and was just faking it.
“That’s exactly what I said the first time!” Allison chimed in, unable to hide the grin spreading across her face. “He made some amazing cacio e pepe, and I was simply… enchanted.”
The word slipped out before she could stop it, and she immediately regretted it. Enchanted was not the right word. Not after what had happened in the kitchen before that meal. The Kitchen Sexcapades ? flashed across her mind, along with the more recent Restaurant Sexcapades ? .
She felt a heat rush through her body as vivid flashbacks took over. The memory of being pinned to the kitchen counter, of Angelo’s hands, his mouth, the way he—
Angelo cleared his throat, snapping her back to the present. Allison blinked, her thighs clenching under the table as she tried desperately to refocus on her pasta.
This was not the time.
She stole a glance to her left and found Katerina glaring daggers at Johnathan. If looks could kill, her brother would’ve been six feet under. It was clear Katerina harbored a deep-seated grudge against him, and the tension between the two was so thick it could’ve been served as a side dish.
Allison didn’t entirely understand what had gone down between them, but she knew how stubborn Johnathan could be. Hard-headed, like every other Lockwood. She just hoped whatever drama was brewing here would settle before someone lost an eye. Or worse.
“ Mamá taught us both to cook,” Katerina spoke up, finally breaking her icy silence, though her voice softened at the mention of her mother. “She said a Greek should always know their way around food.”
Katerina’s hazel eyes dimmed as she spoke, her accent carrying a wistful edge. It was clear that she missed her mom, and Allison’s heart ached for her. She understood that feeling too well. More than most.
“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Allison said, reaching over to take Katerina’s hand in hers, offering a gentle squeeze. “Why didn’t she move here with you?”
Katerina’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, the walls around her heart seemed to falter. “She has a life in Athens. A job, friends… It would have been selfish of me to ask her to leave all of that.”
The words were spoken matter-of-factly, but the sadness in her voice was unmistakable. Katerina—this fiery, tough-as-nails woman—was hiding more pain than she let on. Allison could see it in her eyes, the dullness that dimmed their usual sparkle, the weariness lurking behind her sharp wit.
What did life do to you?
Allison promised herself right then and there that she would help Katerina in any way she could. Whether as a friend, a shopping buddy, or a surrogate sister—whatever she needed. She wasn’t going to let this girl lose her way.
“Well,” Allison said, her voice soft but sincere, “I admire that you’re starting fresh in a place you don’t know. That takes a lot of strength, Katerina.”
The name felt awkward in her American mouth, her accent mangling it a bit, but Katerina smiled anyway.
“You can call me Katia,” she offered, her smile reaching her eyes this time.
Allison’s heart warmed, and she returned the smile. “Katia it is.”
They shared a brief, comforting look before turning back to their meals. For a few moments, the table was quiet save for the sound of forks and knives, but Allison felt it— him . The weight of Angelo’s gaze pressing into her. She didn’t need to look up to know he was watching her, but she did anyway, drawn like a magnet.
Sure enough, Angelo was staring at her, his brown eyes soft, but with that same teasing smile that made her insides twist into knots. His face, so relaxed and stretched into a grin, made her heart trip over itself.
It was terrifying, the way she felt her heart slip further toward him every time she caught him looking at her like that. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it safely in her chest. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized…
Maybe it already belonged to him.
Johnathan, of course, had to swoop in and ruin her perfectly happy feelings. I swear I’m gonna kill that man, Allison thought as she braced for the inevitable.
“I think we should talk about this deal you wanna strike with our father, Angelo. It doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”
And just like that, the moment was obliterated.
Read the fucking room, Johnny.
Without missing a beat, Angelo leaned back in his chair, cool as ever. “I want to threaten your father.”
Allison immediately choked on her spaghetti. A flurry of activity erupted around her: Katerina thumped her on the back, chairs scraped against the marble floors, and a symphony of panicked voices broke out.
“What the fuck, Taylor?” Johnathan shouted, springing into full big-brother outrage mode.
There it was. The Johnathan Special TM .
“What—how the fuck is this my fault?” Angelo fired back, throwing his hands in the air defensively.
It’s a little your fault, Allison thought as she tried to catch her breath.
“She’s fucking choking because of you!” Johnathan accused, leaning into the dramatics.
That sounds… inappropriate.
“You’re the one who said—”
Oh my God, please just shut up.
“SHUT. UP. Both of you!” Katerina finally snapped, echoing the exact sentiment running through Allison’s oxygen-deprived brain.
The bickering stopped dead. Allison, still wheezing but mostly recovered, sent Katerina a grateful glance as the younger woman continued to pat her back, muttering in Greek like some sort of aggressive healer.
Once the chaos died down, Katerina turned her steely gaze toward Angelo, hands on her hips. “Talk like an actual human being rather than dropping bombs in the middle of dinner, Angelo.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
Angelo sighed dramatically, as if he hadn’t just caused a minor emergency, and everyone sat back down, albeit more cautiously. “I meant what I said. I plan on threatening your father. Bullying him, if you will.”
Johnathan blinked, looking like he’d just been slapped. “And what good will that do?” he demanded, voicing exactly what Allison was thinking. It was absurd. Completely absurd.
But Angelo’s confidence was unshaken, his tone level as he explained. “It’ll scare him. Make him realize he’s not as untouchable as he thinks. He can’t just push Allison out of his life as if she’s expendable.”
His words hung in the air as he locked eyes with Allison, something deeper and unspoken passing between them. There was more to his plan—much more—but whatever it was, he clearly couldn’t reveal it in front of Johnathan and Katerina.
Allison’s heart pounded. This could either be the most brilliant or most idiotic thing Angelo had ever done, and she wasn’t entirely sure which. Her throat still burned, and she didn’t trust herself to speak, but she had her doubts.
This is not going to end well.
Johnathan, of course, wasn’t satisfied. “It could go extremely wrong, Taylor. I don’t like it.”
Angelo, however, remained as unflustered as ever. “Oh, calm down. I’m not threatening his life.” A smirk crept across his face, the kind that usually preceded something outrageous. “Just his business.”
Allison gasped. He wouldn’t.
“You fucking wouldn’t,” Johnathan said, his voice full of the same shock she was feeling.
“Oh, I fucking would,” Angelo replied, with such certainty it made her stomach flip.
This is so not gonna end well.
For the next two weeks, Angelo practically vanished. He left little notes for Allison every morning, wishing her a lovely day or telling her how much he missed her. It was charming at first, but by day ten, she was considering setting the house on fire just to get his attention. Every day, she texted him back, thanking him for the note, and then went downstairs to find Katerina making breakfast—usually something Greek and delicious.
The woman could cook like it was her side hustle.
Allison’s days had fallen into a predictable but pleasant routine. She spent her time reading, going on coffee dates with Katerina, or binge-watching old 90’s rom-coms—because apparently, that was Katia’s favorite pastime. Allison had no complaints, though. Watching Sleepless in Seattle with someone who yelled at the TV made it even better. And somewhere between all the Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, Allison realized that this house—Angelo’s house—had somehow become their home.
Her clothes had taken over half of Angelo’s closet (a fact he teased her about mercilessly in his late-night texts), her pink decor brightened up his otherwise black-and-white apartment, and her chunky knit blankets had claimed residence on the couch. The space was no longer just his; it had quietly become theirs, and Allison wasn’t sure when that shift had happened. Maybe somewhere between the fourth pasta dinner and the fifth note.
Today, however, was a special day. Allison had hit her twenty-sixth week of pregnancy and her belly was now a feature film. It was time for a wardrobe refresh, and there was only one person for the job—Amira Davis, her best friend and the best damn designer in the world.
“ Soniye ! I missed you!” Amira squealed as she wrapped Allison in a bear hug. Amira was a good five inches shorter, so she sort of hugged the side of the baby bump rather than Allison herself, but it was heartwarming nonetheless.
“I missed you too,” Allison said, sighing with relief. She hadn’t realized just how much until they were hugging.
Amira stepped back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wait until you see what I’ve made for you. You’re gonna die,” she said, dramatically flinging a bunch of odd-looking garment bags onto the living room couch.
It was only then that Amira seemed to notice Katerina sitting there, casually sipping a cup of coffee. Amira froze mid-fling, eyes wide.
“Oh my God. Is this Angelo’s little sister?” she gasped, looking like she had just found a new muse. “Stand up, please!”
Katerina blinked, her copper-brown hair cascading down her back as she slowly rose to her feet, looking as if she wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or preparing to defend herself. She was wearing bicycle shorts and a tank top, her figure accentuated in a way that made Amira’s jaw drop.
Amira whistled appreciatively. “Can I use you?”
“Pardon?” Katerina blurted out, looking scandalized.
Allison burst out laughing, enjoying every second of the awkward exchange. “For modeling, Katia. Amira’s a fashion designer. A fantastic one.”
Katerina visibly relaxed and smiled. “Oh! Well, in that case, I’d be delighted.”
Amira jumped up and down like a kid in a candy store, quickly securing Katerina’s number before launching into full fashion mode. “This is so exciting! Thank you! I swear I’ll make you look like a goddess.”
Katerina chuckled. “I’m Greek, darling. That’s kind of the brand.”
Allison watched them with a fond smile, her heart swelling. These two women had become so important to her in such different ways, and seeing them bond made her happier than she could put into words.
After four hours of chatting, tweaking measurements, and a mini fashion show, Allison’s new maternity wardrobe was ready. But because that had been work , they decided more fun was in order. They settled on re-watching an old rom-com ( Mamma Mia , because Katerina insisted it was a “cultural masterpiece”) while devouring the emergency ice cream stash from the back of Angelo’s freezer.
“Seriously, we’re only twenty minutes in and there have already been like five songs,” Amira complained, her spoon halfway to her mouth.
“That’s the beauty of it,” Katerina said with an air of superiority, clearly ready to die on this hill.
Amira gave her a skeptical look. “How is that the beauty of anything , Katia?”
“Because it’s a musical !” Katerina replied as if that explained everything. “And they’re 70’s and 80’s hits. Awesome songs, by the way.”
Amira rolled her eyes. “Still bullshit.”
Katerina gasped dramatically, clutching her imaginary pearls. “ Amira ! How dare you cuss at my favorite musical! It’s filmed in Greece, for God’s sake!”
Allison couldn’t stop smiling. Watching the two of them bicker was like watching two cats swat at each other—light-hearted, fun, and oddly endearing. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed this: a moment of pure, carefree joy.
It was the kind of friendship she’d always wanted but had never really had. Sure, she loved her brothers, but their idea of bonding was way more… intense. This was easy. Real. A little chaotic, but in the best possible way.
She laughed as Amira referred to Katerina’s favorite male character as a “meatless oaf,” which triggered a string of outraged sounds from Katerina that could only be described as bat-like—although that might be offending to the winged creatures.
If bats could be offended, that is.
Allison’s heart warmed as she watched the two of them. Amira, her best friend, had embraced Katerina like a little sister, something Allison knew her friend had always secretly wanted. Amira was an only child and had long envied the bond Allison shared with her brothers. Now, here they were, creating something special of their own.
Life was so good right now, it almost felt like a dream.