Chapter 12
TWELVE
VIOLET
What have I walked into? I pondered to myself as the sixteen-year-old boy led me down the corridor without a word.
He moved with such confidence and strength it was as if he’d learned early on how to take up space. A much younger version of Lykos, unmistakably so. Same dark hair and eyes, same cheekbones, same intensity. Same weight in his presence.
Only… not as contained. Maybe it was the fresh cut across his face that gave off that impression, or maybe it was whatever control his father exercised that hadn’t fully settled into him yet.
“Here,” he said when he stopped at a room down a narrow hallway.
I stepped inside, my gaze sweeping the space automatically, taking in each detail.
“Wait here,” the boy said, then disappeared, shutting the door behind him and leaving me alone.
Light filtered in through tall windows with breathtaking views of Athens and the blue seas over the horizon. The furniture around me was expensive, arranged with comfort in mind, but the space felt rarely used.
There was nothing personal in the room. No scattered books. No personal photographs. No evidence of a family.
I curled my fingers around the thin folder while I contemplated what I had gotten myself into.
I hadn’t expected this—or him—on this assignment.
Yes, I took this assignment in Greece with hopes to find my daughter, or at least to catch a glimpse of Lykos and his family.
However, I didn’t expect to come face-to-face with them all on my first day here.
I wasn’t mentally prepared. Tomorrow or next week, I might have been. But not today.
And then there was the small fact that it was obvious Lykos was surprised to see me, meaning he wasn’t the one who summoned me or my services. Maybe it was his friend? He insinuated something about an intervention. Did it have something to do with Lykos’s wife?
Dammit, I hated complications and being blindsided in my personal life, and that’s exactly what had happened. Granted, I was going to seek out Lykos and his family, but I wanted it done on my terms, when I was mentally prepared. Not like this.
I should have turned around and walked right out of this house, but it was too late. And while I could maybe walk away from Lykos, I couldn’t walk away from his family. From his daughter. My daughter.
The memory of our second encounter filtered in. The day he found me on campus, back at Harvard. I wasn’t sure how he’d found me; although now that I knew he was a Greek mobster who dealt in illegal business, it made sense.
The frigid air bit through my coat as I rushed through campus, my book bag slipping off my shoulder in my haste. I held it against my chest, hoping to add some heat, my gaze locked on the door to the building where my next class was.
Three feet. Two. One.
I pushed through the door and entered a vestibule with an exhale, stomping the snow off.
“Violet.”
I froze, my foot still hovering above the rubber mat.
I recognized that voice. Although it’d only been a week, I knew it was one I’d never forget, a memory I’d be unable to scrub away.
Slowly, I turned my head and found Lykos standing there.
Tall. Dark. Foreboding.
He stood out among the sea of students rushing in and out, ignoring two people staring at each other in this small space. I didn’t know how long we remained like that, but suddenly the traffic ceased, signaling class had started.
His hands were tucked into his black wool coat, the intensity in his eyes threatening to upend my world.
I swallowed and said quietly, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s the only way I was able to find you.”
My chest tightened. “You weren’t supposed to come looking for me.”
His jaw flexed. “Why did you sneak out?”
I winced, wanting nothing more than to feign ignorance, but it wouldn’t do me any good. This man would call me out on it, and honestly, I wanted to call him out on his deceit too.
“Because you failed to disclose that you’re married,” I hissed. “If I knew… I would have never… What happened between us shouldn’t have happened.”
“How did you find out?” he asked, curling his hands into fists.
“Your wedding ring fell out of our pile of clothes when I was getting dressed.” I lifted my chin, squaring my shoulders as I held his gaze.
“Listen, it’s obvious you’re a…” The right word escaped me, or maybe I didn’t want to say it.
He had to be a player, a cheater, and definitely a heartbreaker.
I didn’t need any of that in my life. “Whatever you are, I want no part of it. Go sleep with some other willing woman. I won’t be the one. ”
A flicker of guilt crossed his face before it hardened again.
“I never intended to sleep with you—or anyone—that night,” he said through clenched teeth.
I let out a sharp laugh, folding my arms across my chest.
“Of course not.” I scoffed. “That must be why you carry a condom in your wallet, right? Just in case… What? You trip and fall between a woman’s legs?”
Frustration bled into his expression.
“Those condoms have been in there for years,” he said, his voice earnest. “Since before I got married.”
I clicked my tongue. Great. Probably expired.
“Please,” he continued. “Just let me explain. I owe you the truth.”
I hesitated, my fingers digging into my coat as I searched for any sign of a playboy trying to dig his way out of a predicament. But if that was the case, why would he seek me out?
“Fine,” I said, though the word felt like it scraped on the way out. “Start talking. But know that it won’t change a damn thing.”
He flinched.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, and I started to think he wouldn’t say a word. Maybe he’d changed his mind, but then he spoke, voice rough.
“My wife was committed to a psychiatric facility six years ago.”
I gasped, the raw honesty behind his declaration undeniable.
He stepped closer, his gaze drifting somewhere I couldn’t follow. “She wasn’t ill when we got married. Although she was always… different. Then we got pregnant, and everything went south.
“I tried everything, Violet. I mean everything. I eliminated any stressors. Surrounded her with things she loved. I flew in the best doctors. Nothing helped.” His voice turned hollow. “Her episodes worsened. I tolerated them… as long as her violent outbursts were only aimed at me.”
I swallowed, a chill creeping up my spine.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
He let out a broken, humorless laugh.
“She tried to poison me. Cut me. Kill me in my sleep. No matter. I eventually learned how to watch for signs that she was up to something.” He took a deep breath before he carried on. “Then our son was born. For a while, I thought—hoped—she was getting better.”
Hope.
The word lingered in the air between us.
“Until I found her one day standing over our three-month-old son’s cot, trying to suffocate him.” The image slammed into me, vivid and horrifying, and my hand flew to my mouth before I could stop it. “That was the day I had her committed to a private clinic, and she’d been there ever since.”
The loneliness in his gaze filled the holes in the story I’d been crafting since I left him in that dark penthouse. I understood him and his solitude better than most.
Mental illness was difficult on the patient, but it could be even harder on their families.
It often had a ripple effect that extended beyond the patient and impacted psychological, financial, and emotional distress on their close relatives.
Families and caregivers often experienced stress, social isolation, grief, and “survivor’s syndrome. ”
However, that didn’t excuse his behavior nor my role in it. In fact, one could argue it made us even more guilty.
My chest ached for him.
“Gosh, Lykos. I’m so sorry.”
“Then you came along, after six years of…” He pushed his hand through his thick, dark hair, making a mess out of it. “After six years of loneliness, and you asked me to get out of that bar with you. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t strong enough to say no.”
“Nonetheless, Lykos…” My voice softened, but I held his gaze. “You should have told me you were married before I had sex with you.”
“I know.”
His eyes closed briefly, like the words physically hurt.
I felt sorry for him. I really did. But that didn’t make it right. Even if I understood him better now.
I put my hand on his arm, extending as much physical comfort as I could without my own heart cracking.
He opened his eyes, and I registered the glimmer of hope.
“Be mine, Violet,” he rasped, placing his big palm over mine and stepping closer. “Be my mistress. I’ll be faithful to you.”
I blinked, certain that I’d misheard him. But I hadn’t, and it felt like I’d been slapped.
I reeled back. “No.”
The word tumbled out of me, laced with pain and shame.
“I won’t be someone’s second choice. I can’t do that to another woman,” I said, shaking my head.
“You wouldn’t be—”
“No,” I cut him off, my voice firm even though every fiber of me was shuddering. “You’re still married, Lykos. I don’t care how tragic your situation is. You’re still tied to someone else.”
I yanked away from his touch and he reached for me again.
“Don’t,” I pleaded.
We just stood there, two humans battling our own tragedies. We were so close yet worlds apart. We’d only shared a fleeting encounter, but I’d felt closer to him in those few hours than any boy or man before.
And that alone terrified me, because he tempted me.
He reached into his pocket and handed me a card. When I made no effort to take it, he tucked it into my pocket.
“It’s a business card with my private line,” he said softly, his hand falling at his side. “If you ever need anything, just—”
“I won’t.” I sniffed. “Maybe in another life.”
Dammit, why did it hurt so much? It was just a one-night stand. I didn’t know him. He didn’t know me.
Yet somehow it felt like so much more. Maybe his soul spoke to mine, or maybe it was that we’d both been struck by life’s curveballs. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fair.
“Goodbye, Lykos.”
I turned before I could change my mind and do something I would regret later.