Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Yet I keep wondering what my real parents are like. Are Penelope and Stavros rich and snooty or are they humble and down to Earth despite their vast wealth? Do they live in a normal house, or is their home a manor with a full set of staff? Most importantly, do they really want to meet me as much as Nico and Andreas claim, or will they put on fake smiles when I get there and pretend to care about me even though they don’t?
“You’re thinking too hard again,” Andreas’ thick accent breaks in once again. “Just relax, Petunia. We’ll be in Athens soon enough.”
But I shoot my dad a glance.
“Would you be relaxed if your whole life was a lie?” I ask archly, pushing away the peanuts he offers. The older man’s expression darkens.
“This was for your protection, Persephone,” he states in a stern tone. “You know that.”
I huff.
“Yes, I understand but still. It doesn’t change the fact that basically, I’ve been living a lie.”
Andreas goes as still as stone, his expression foreboding.
“Don’t take that attitude with me, young lady,” he growls. “I’m still your father, and I don’t give a fuck that you’re actually a Christos. You listen to me.”
I sigh then, going limp.
“Fine, Daddy. I get it.”
But Nico interjects then, laying a big hand on my knee. At first, I was plenty angry at him, but that’s dissipated somewhat from the shock of everything that’s happened.
“It’s fine, Petunia. Everything’s fine. I know this is a big change, but after you meet Penelope and Stavros, I think a lot will be answered.”
I look at the handsome man, his huge form dark and imposing against the white leather seat.
“You think?”
Nico nods, blue eyes flashing.
“Yes. I know so. You have nothing to worry about, Pet, and I want you to remember that. Your parents love you more than anyone or anything in this entire world, and they’re excited to meet you.”
I want to reply, but what would I say? Only the truth can inform us now. Soon, the charter flight lands and we’re whisked in a Rolls Royce to the outskirts of Athens were a giant manor rises from the hills. It resembles a luxurious Italianate villa with gilded windows and stained glass panes. Poplars sway in the slight breeze, and the sun glints off a tinkling water fountain in the front drive.
“I hope this works out,” I mutter while Nico helps me out of the car. My fiancé throws me a mega-watt smile.
“It’s going to be fine,” he reassures me a low growl.
Then, the three of us make our way to the front door where we’re admitted by a man in a butler’s uniform.
“Welcome, Miss Christos,” the man greets with a bow. “Mr. Pappas. Mr. Matthews. Please, come inside.”
We’re shown through a long tile hallway, complete with arches for windows and elegant pendant lamps, before entering a massive sitting room decorated with cream colored furniture and assorted objects d’art scattered about. I gasp because everything looks so expensive, from the thick carpeting on the floors to the portraits on the walls. Are those real oil paintings? Back in Jersey, Andreas and I made do with lithographs at best. Most of the time, we just decorated our home with framed movie posters.
But as soon as we’re seated, an older man and woman enter, and immediately I jump up again. It must be then. My parents.
The older lady has grey hair but my nose and eyes, as well as a similar build. The older gentleman doesn’t really look like me, but his eyes are full of love as he holds his arms open.
“Mom? Dad?” I whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart,” the woman speaks in accented English. “We’ve missed you, Persephone.”
With that, I fly into their arms as the three of us hug and cry. Tears start to stream down my face before I realize it, and suddenly, I know that everything’s going to be okay.
“Mom, Dad!” I sob again, wiping furiously at my cheeks. They’re crying too, and press kisses to my head while squeezing my hands.
“Oh, Persephone,” my mom sniffles. “You’re so beautiful! We’ve waited for this day for so long.”
“She is doing well,” Stavros says with his own sniffle, his craggy face beaming with happiness. “We have a wonderful daughter, Penelope.” But then he turns to me, his blue eyes sad. “I hope you can forgive us,” Stavros apologizes in a low tone. “We made a very difficult decision many years ago, but it was for your safety. We were generally fearful of the unrest in Greece, and wanted to do what was best for you. So we asked Andreas to raise you as his own,” he says, pausing momentarily to nod at the handsome bodyguard, “but now you’re back. We’ve longed for you, Persephone. We missed out on so many major milestones, and it was Hell to keep your identity a secret for so many years. But now, that’s all done with. You are an adult, and our daughter.”