Chapter 4 - Selene
I stand glued to the floor in the living room, my mind racing, my blood boiling at the audacity of that man.
Who the hell does he think he is? It’s literally kidnapping.
There is no polite way to describe it. It is what it is, and he can call us his guests all he wants; it doesn’t change the fact that we are now his prisoners.
No matter how wide his smile or how charming his voice… I am a prisoner again. And I can’t leave because I have to protect my children… again.
I’ve basically swapped my father for another mafia man.
A man whom I used to believe had a heart, but now I am questioning my old judgments.
Maybe I was just too young to see him for what he really is.
Just another version of my father. Willing to use whatever methods he deems necessary to get what he wants.
I realize I still have my backpack over my shoulder, so I let it drop to the floor and push it against the wall with my foot.
My children are chattering and seem comfortable around him. I don’t want to take that away from them or let on that I am quietly losing my mind in this moment. They have been through so much; there is no reason to make them think this place isn’t safe or welcoming to them.
I will do anything to keep them safe. Anything.
So having to suck up my anger and hide it from them isn’t exactly foreign to me. I’ve been doing it, as best I can, for the past five years.
I know they aren’t stupid or blind. They can sense things even when I try to protect them from them. They sensed how terrible it was at my father’s house. They even saw it for themselves, no matter how hard I tried to cover their eyes.
If we truly are stuck here, I would rather they believe this place is different than understand it for what it really is. A prison with better views.
It takes me a long time to calm my racing heart enough to go through to the rooms and see how things are going.
I walk into a beautiful room, bigger than the entire motel we were staying in, with a massive king-sized bed at the center, four pillars at the corners, and soft white mesh fabric draped over it.
“Mommy, Daddy says we can have this room! And the bed has a tent on it! We can sleep inside a tent!”
“That’s wonderful, sweetie pie. And which room did Arron choose?” I already know, but I’m trying to make conversation so the children can see I’m relaxed.
“They wanted to share,” Simon says, looking up at me from where he’s standing next to the bed, pulling throw pillows off it. “They said they always share?”
“Since they were born,” I tell him. “I don’t think they’ve been apart from each other for more than five minutes.
“We’re negotiating duvet colors and what we’re going to decorate the room with,” he smiles at me.
I smile back, but it’s tight and controlled.
“Oh, nice,” I say, feeling the anger surge back up again. I thought I had it under control, but clearly, I don’t.
He’s giving them everything they want. The fun things, the things he can use to manipulate them into thinking he’s a good guy. And it’s pissing me off.
Again, I worry about how overwhelming this must be for them.
I know how it goes—from the outside, they look happy and like they’ve just found the biggest, best adventure ever.
But tonight, when I try to get them to go to sleep, they are going to be full of questions and confusion, and their little minds are going to be racing.
And of course, there is the other side of this. The side where he makes them feel like all of this luxury is normal, and when I try to leave with them, I can’t give them the same things.
It isn’t fair or right.
He isn’t thinking it through. He knows nothing about what they really need, and he didn’t even try to consult me before blasting them with so many truths and such heavy information.
Meeting their dad and moving house all in one day…
I grit my teeth and bite back the angry words that are pushing against my lips. Do not fight in front of them. “Where is my room?” I ask politely. I need five minutes alone. I need to splash cold water on my face and recompose myself.
“The master bedroom is at the end of this hall…”
“I am not sharing a room with you, Simon!” I blurt out in horror.
He smirks, shaking his head. “If you will listen long enough to let me finish… the master bedroom is at the end of this hall, and opposite it is your bedroom. Your own bedroom.”
I bite my lip, feeling foolish and even more angry because I can’t feel anything but anger at the moment. “Thank you,” I snap. “I’ll go and look at it.”
Spinning on my heel, I march from the room. Behind me, I hear Solenne laughing, squealing with excitement, and agitation runs deeper into my thoughts.
What happens when I have to leave here? Will the children hate me for it?
They already love this place, but they don’t know that we are trapped like animals without a choice.
I walk into my room, not really taking in the decor or the modern layout and open spaces. I walk straight to the window and stand against it, staring out over the city. It’s late afternoon, and the sun’s midday glare is starting to fade.
The city’s buildings are so much lower than us, as my view towers over them, over everything.
It’s beautiful, utterly breathtaking. I can see why people would want to live so high up, above the mess, the noise, and the chaos.
Even though we are in the middle of a thrumming metropolis, I still feel like I can breathe up here.
Like the air is clear, and I have space.
My father’s house was also so claustrophobic and dark and stuff. I don’t know if it really was or if that’s how my mind made it out to be, because I couldn’t get away.
I sigh, letting the air full my lungs and stretch against them before I slowly let it escape.
What am I going to do? Another prisoner. Another mafia guard telling me what I can and can’t do. I literally just escaped my father and somehow walked right into a trap I never saw coming.
And the worst thing… my heart still leaps when I look at Simon. My body still spikes with yearning. My mind hasn’t managed to overrule the attraction, the magnetism, the need… my mind knows he’s keeping us prisoner, and my body is humming at the sight of him.
It makes me even more angry!
“Selene.” His voice comes from behind me, and I jump in fright, spinning to face him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, standing in the doorway.
“Oh, you want to pretend like you give a shit what I need or want now? Don’t pretend to be polite and accommodating, Simon. What do you want?” I snap angrily.
He looks taken aback.
“I came to check if you need anything,” he says.
“I need you to let me go. To not lock us up in your ivory tower. I need you to stop acting as if you own us or have the right to keep us here against our will!” I blurt out, my voice sharp and intense.
Simon sucks in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“You’re safe here, so are our children,” he says coldly.
I scoff, shaking my head. “You have no idea what you’re up against, so how can you even try to tell me they are safe?” I snap.
He takes a step into my room and folds his arms across his chest. His muscles ripple against the fabric of his shirt, and I groan silently, tearing my eyes away while I imagine him wrapping those arms around me.
“You need to learn to say thank you,” he says slowly.
“Thank you?” I blurt out with a bitter laugh. “Thank you for literally kidnapping us? Sure. That sounds right,” I mutter darkly.
“Tell me what I’m up against, Selene? If it’s so terrible… tell me,” he demands.
He takes another step towards me, and I back away, shaking my head. “Where are my children?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“They’re playing with a box of toys I keep here for my brother’s kids.
I asked you a question. You want to tell me I don’t know what’s coming, that I can’t keep you safe from it…
so tell me. Tell me so that I can keep you safe,” he growls, his eyes darkening as he comes even closer.
I can smell his cologne. It’s intoxicating and distracting.
“Selene, if you are going to keep information from me that ends up putting my children in danger, I swear I will not forgive you,” he snarls darkly.
My heart hammers against my ribs, annoyed with his logic, annoyed that I really should tell him something because he’s right. He’s keeping us here, not letting us go, and I should at least warn him about what’s coming. My father.
But telling him means dishonoring my family. And if my father finds out I spoke about him to a Volkov, his fury will have no limits.
I sigh, biting my lip, trying to figure out what to do.
“Alright,” Simon growls. “I’ll ask the kids. I’m sure they know something. Kids see and hear a lot more than we give them credit for…”
“No!” I blurt out, horrified at the idea of him interrogating my children. “Leave them out of this!” I snap.
“Well, then, tell me something, Selene. Tell me what’s coming? Or I will fucking ask them. I will do whatever it takes to protect them.”
I stare at him, willing daggers to shoot from my eyes and pierce through his skull, but nothing happens.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I realize I’m backed into a corner. Another corner. Another man using my children to control me.
For fuck’s sake, when will this end?
I take a deep breath while my gaze traces his features. Beautiful, built like a Greek god, perfection at every curve. But just like other men. Just like my father. Taking control where he has no right to take it.
I bite my lip and consider my options. In the end, I have only one. For the sake of my children… I have to tell Simon what’s coming for him when my father finds out where we are.
“Have you heard of The Ghost?” I whisper in defiant concession.
“I have…” he says slowly, his curiosity piqued and his head cocked to the side. “What has that got to do with…”
“Alek Mykros is my father. The Ghost. The man who can control things with invisible strings. He is my father, and he will come for the children and me.”
“Mykros,” he whispers as recognition and understanding flash across his face. Then his eyes narrow, and confusion streaks his expression.
“But five years ago, you told me your name was Selene Baros. You lied to me?” His eyes darken.
“No, no, I didn’t lie to you, Simon. I chose to use my mother’s maiden name.”
I never wanted to be a Mykros. My mother’s family was kind and loving. Nothing like my father. And after she died… I never wanted his surname to be my name.
He sneers, staring coldly at me. “An omission of the truth is no less devastating than a lie. Did I ever know who you really were? You hid yourself, knowing it would be an issue if my family found out. If I found out… my enemy’s daughter…
Your father is allied with many of my rivals.
” I see the way his thoughts begin to build puzzles behind those beautiful caramel eyes.
I see the inevitable assumptions and the shift in his expression when he reaches the most obvious conclusion.
“Where are you spying on my family?” The words come out of him like fire.
“No,” I say instantly. But as I say it, I realize that no answer could really change his mind. No matter how I deny it, it only makes me seem more guilty. If I overexplain, I’m covering for something. If I explain nothing, it’s as though I’m hiding something.
I clench my jaw and stare at him, at his mind shifting, at the way he’s looking at me like I’m a problem he didn’t consider until this moment.
“You pretended to be my lover… and when you got pregnant… Was that the plan all along? Collect information, get pregnant with my children… Use them against me later?” His voice has turned so cold that it sends a shiver through my body.
The clench of his fists and the set of his jaw tell me to keep quiet. I’ve learned my father’s tell-tale signs, and I imagine a man like Simon is not going to be any different. A man who is willing to capture and control someone else against their will.
Lifting my chin in defiance, I keep my lips pressed together.
Simon scoffs, shaking his head.
“Let us go, Simon,” I say firmly.
“That isn’t going to happen.” His answer is clipped, cold, and angry. “You’ll run right back to your father with intel on my family and me. I can’t let you do that.”
“Let. Us. Go!” I say it again, each word pronounced with force.
A dark smile spreads over his lips, and he cocks his head to the side as amused triumph settles over him.
“Alright,” he shrugs. “You can go,” he says calmly.
My heart leaps. It’s obviously a trick. I don’t move.
“But?” I ask, waiting for the thing that’s making him smile.
“You are free to leave at any time, Selene. But the children… my children… are staying with me.”
My heart sinks to the floor, and I swallow hard to fight back the sob of frustration.
He’s just like my father. He’s not the man I used to know. Maybe he never was.
Simon takes a step to the side and politely gestures for me to walk towards the door. Free to go. Free to leave. Except not free at all.
“Fuck you,” I snarl beneath my breath. “You know I would never leave them!”
He smiles with dark triumph, and it grates right into my bones.
“Get out of my room,” I demand.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he says, as charming as ever.
I bite hard against my lip to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
Simon turns away from me and leaves my bedroom, leaving me alone with my anger and hatred, feeling trapped like an animal and hating him in ways I never thought were possible.