Chapter One #2
Which, in his case, was that he was the grandson of a groundskeeper and didn’t come with a prestigious name or pedigree.
Even after he’d spent nearly two and a half decades under the thumb of his mentor, Theodore Andros, clawing his way up the ladder.
Their complaints had lessened in the last two years, after he’d raised the company’s worth by billions and taken full control as CEO.
But Aliyah—Theodore’s daughter and his once-upon-a-time love—was, to his everlasting frustration, a whole other matter.
Something about her—whether as a quiet, shy child, or the awkward, softly spoken teenager, or the stunning, reserved woman she had blossomed into—had always found a weak spot in him.
Maybe it wasn’t restlessness so much as excitement at the prospect of finally having Aliyah where he wanted her, after all these years.
There was the fact that she didn’t have a husband anymore. And he…he was finally out from under Theo’s thumb.
The icing on the cake?
She was coming to him for help.
Constantine pushed away from the sleek black desk that dominated the center of his office and began to pace. His current arm candy continued to talk, far too fond of the sound of her own voice to even notice his restless energy.
The top floor of Xenakis Tower—Athens’s tallest skyscraper—offered a view as commanding as he’d made his reputation to be.
Below, the city shimmered under the unforgiving June sun, the marble bones of ancient ruins peeking through the sprawl of modernity.
The Acropolis, timeless and unmoved, cut a sharp silhouette against the horizon.
The temperature inside his office was perfectly regulated, a soft hum of chilled air against the heat pressing at the glass walls. And yet, his blood ran hot.
In the near decade since Aliyah had disappeared, not a single day had passed without him feeling the sting of her refusal to trust him or his ability to make a life for them. Her silence had scraped at him constantly, like salt on a wound that refused to heal.
Like a puppy desperate for affection, he had believed her to be different from her parents.
He had thought her more like her brother, Julian.
Instead, he had been nothing but a temporary distraction for her.
A walk on the wild side for the spoiled heiress who couldn’t run far enough, fast enough, when the possibility arose of Constantine’s poor roots dragging her down.
The minute she’d heard that her father might cut him off, Aliyah had fled. Without giving him a chance to reassure her, without a goodbye.
Within the year, she’d married a man three decades older than her, proving that all she’d wanted was the lap of luxury, to be taken care of. She hadn’t even visited Theo after his heart attack last year.
And now, according to her mother, Noor, she was coming back to Athens, to him, for help.
Noor had mostly tolerated Constantine back then, because he had been her Julian’s best friend—Julian who had been expansive of heart. She had even commended Theo when he began funding Constantine’s education, likely pleased that her son would have a loyal, protective sidekick.
But after Julian’s death, everything had changed. When Theo decided Constantine would be his legal successor, Noor had dropped all pretense. Her grief had been raw, even vicious, as she accused him of coveting her son’s fortune and place in the business.
The constant denials he’d made that he’d never coveted Julian’s fortune had fallen on deaf ears.
Discovering that he and Aliyah had become lovers had been the last straw.
Noor had fanned the flames of Theo’s anger at Constantine, until the older man had threatened to ruin him and his budding career if he didn’t break off his association with his daughter.
It had tormented Constantine no end—the very idea of giving up Aliyah. Even for mere weeks, as he had originally planned. In the end though, she had made her choice, paving the way for his own.
Now, years later, Noor felt no misgivings about asking him to help her daughter in her moment of crisis. Not surprising, since she considered him a mutt that her husband had brought in to take the place of her beloved son.
He would comply this time because it suited him to help Aliyah out of her predicament. But that help was going to come at a price.
Aliyah sat stiffly on the pale leather bench outside Constantine’s office, her back straight, flashing a plastic smile that made her cheeks hurt.
The top floor of the Xenakis Tower gleamed with quiet opulence.
Everything was glass, metal and whispered wealth.
The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and eucalyptus-polished wood.
Behind her, the reception desk was manned by an impeccably dressed assistant who hadn’t looked up once since Aliyah had checked in.
She’d never been here before. Not even in her father’s prime, or when Julian had been alive.
Papa hadn’t ever shown much interest in her, calling her a daydreamer at best, a dull, useless thing at worst. She had been a disappointment to him from the beginning—for she had never been dynamic, fun or charming like Julian had been.
If only there was a way for her body to talk to her mind and realize she was past all this… A sigh escaped her before she could catch it.
There was also the fact that she owed her parents a visit. Eventually. After she sorted out this business with Constantine.
She hoped Rose was faring better at the hotel suite, eating the room service they’d ordered for an early dinner.
By the time Aliyah had washed and changed, dusk had been painting the sky.
She herself had barely managed to drink a glass of water.
Her stomach was churning too hard to handle anything else.
She glanced at her phone and blinked. Nearly an hour had passed since she’d been asked to wait.
She rose, smoothing her skirt, ready to ask how much longer it would be before he could see her, when the heavy double doors to his office opened.
Her stomach twisted into a tight knot, and she had to remind herself to breathe through it.
A woman stepped out. Not just any woman—a beautiful actress, a household name. Sleek, golden skinned, with legs that went on for days and sunglasses that didn’t quite hide the smugness in her expression.
She didn’t even register Aliyah’s presence as she passed, her heels clicking on the polished marble. Strangely enough, Aliyah was both miffed and relieved.
Behind her, Constantine stood in the doorway, with a loose-limbed grace that belied the power emanating from him.
His jet-black hair was rumpled in a way that had nothing to do with style and everything to do with the actress’s wandering fingers.
A hot, sharp curl of possessiveness twisted in her stomach, and she stilled.
This was ridiculous. He hadn’t been hers in any form in a long time.
If he had been hers to begin with at all.
She couldn’t even call him a friend. More like a powerful acquaintance she was tapping for help.
That thought sent heat streaking her cheeks.
God, really, she was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.
“How nice of you to want to catch up, Aliyah,” Constantine said, his wide mouth quirking up at the edges. Bringing her attention to the smear of bright coral lipstick smudged there.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she managed, though her legs refused to move.
His shirt—steel gray and tailored to within an inch of its life—clung to broad shoulders and a chest far more sculpted than she remembered. His black trousers framed powerful thighs, long legs. He was all ruthless masculinity now. No traces remained of the quiet, sweet young man she’d once known.
Even his face had changed. The lines were sharper. His jaw more angular. His soft, lush mouth held a crueler slant to it. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold. Those gray eyes, once haunted and hungry, now gleamed with something entirely different.
Power.
For a single, breathless second, she wondered what madness had brought her here. What had made her believe she could walk into this man’s office, look him in the face and stay standing? What made her think she could survive him twice?
“You look like you want to flee,” he said, pushing off from the door in a fluid movement that made her belly flutter. That easy, economic grace he had possessed in spades had only intensified. His smile was nothing but a baring of teeth. “I promise you I don’t bite.”
That whiskey-smooth tone nudged Aliyah out of her panic as surely as if he had laid his large hands on her back. “I’m not scared of you, Constantine,” she muttered inanely.
His laughter was sudden, thunderous, deep. And it sent a thousand pinpricks of heat flashing through her. “If I had thought you would be, Aliyah, I wouldn’t look forward to this reunion that much. Your father always mistook your composure for meekness, ne?”
Aliyah frowned, biting back the retort that came to her lips.
She became painfully aware of the receptionist’s curious gaze and the flicker of calculation behind it.
A couple of office staff paused nearby, watching openly.
Not that any of them would recognize her—she had kept a low profile even when her brother had been alive and they could present as a normal family.
She could pretend it was Constantine’s overly enthusiastic welcome that had caught their attention, but she knew better. It was the way he said her name—loudly, clearly, unmistakably. Making it clear to everyone nearby that she was of interest to him. And therefore, to them.
Why though? Had he known she was coming before she’d made an appointment with his receptionist this morning? Now that she thought about it, she had been prepared to wait at least a week or more for him to see her. He could delay because he was both busy and he could put her in her place.