Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Instead, I’m here with this man who clearly despises me in a country I don’t know anything about, floating around bathed in a language I don’t speak, feeling so lost and unmoored and hopeless that the vast black ocean doesn’t seem so bad.
I touch my face and run a finger down my scar but stop when I catch Peter watching me. I quickly drop my hand and glare at him.
“You do realize you can’t simply drag me all over Greece with you.”
“Then stay behind.” He turns away back toward the party. The house is filled with powerful men, all of them criminals, all of them deeply connected and rich and dangerous, and I still can’t keep my eyes from Peter. He’s tall and handsome and looks good in his slim navy-blue suit with the edges of his tattoos poking out at the collar and at his cuffs. “But I can’t promise you’ll be safe.”
“I’m supposed to tag along with you then like a happy little lap dog?”
He smiles slightly. “If only you were so pliable, I wouldn’t mind having you in my lap.”
“That sounds dangerously like a compliment. Except coming from you, it only makes my skin crawl.”
“Good, then I know where we stand.” He hesitates for a moment, standing beside the pool. “The crime lords offered me a job.”
“Really? Does your father know about it?”
He shakes his head. “And I don’t want to tell him.”
“That’s dangerous. Your father’s the number two in the Calimeris family. I doubt they’d be happy if they heard you were taking jobs from crime lords without asking them about it first.”
“My father and uncle are back in America, but we’re here.”
“I’m having a hard time deciding how I feel about this. I’m supposed to be spending my days lying low, and now you’re telling me we’re going to Athens so you can do some job for a bunch of Greek mafia criminals. Doesn’t seem like a good deal for me.”
“It’s probably not, but you’ll still be lying low. Only you’ll do it in Athens. I have an apartment there where you’ll be safe.”
“Why should I go along? You’ve barely spoken to me for weeks. You look at me like I’m a burden. You lie around the house brooding, working out, and going for long runs along the beach. And now suddenly you’re doing a job and I’m supposed to go along with it?”
He’s quiet for a moment. His jaw works and I can’t tell if he’s seriously considering my position or if I only pissed him off by refusing to meekly do whatever he wants. But when he turns to me again, his face is neutral like he’s doing his best to keep himself composed.
“My father told me to keep you safe and I plan on following through with those orders. But I also can’t ignore this request from the other crime lords. You will come because you will be safer in Athens with me than you will out here alone. Arguing will only make things harder, and I don’t like it when my life is made difficult for no good reason.”
“Great, that’s some incentive.”
“I’m not incentivizing and I’m not playing games. We leave in the morning.”
“Are you at least going to tell me what the job is?”
“The less you know, the better.” He turns and walks to the door but pauses before going inside. “And, Adrienne? Be careful with Katarin. She can be as dangerous as her husband when she wants to be. I’d stay far away.”
I stare at his back and at the door once he disappears into the crowd inside. I see him through the windows, mingling, smiling, laughing. He almost looks human—almost looks normal.
Like he gives a damn about people.
But Peter Calimeris doesn’t care about anyone but himself. That’s the most obvious thing in the world.
When I first got here, I was a mess. I’d been beaten back in America and left for dead. I barely survived being kidnapped and tortured. But Kacia came back for me and gave me hope again, and we fought to escape together. I helped murder a man during that horrible day, but I survived and got away.
Now I’m a walking mess of scars, physical and emotional, and I’m barely keeping it together.
Peter never once asked about any of that. Only gave me long, angry glares.
“This is the problem with men like these,” Katarin says as she appears at my shoulder. She smiles and I look over at her. She’s slightly taller, red hair, lines around her eyes. I’d guess forties or fifties at most, but classically beautiful, like she was a model when she was younger. She could still walk the runway if she wanted.
“What problem is that?”
“They see us as incidental. As a necessary evil.” She laughs softly and tips wine between her lips. “But that makes them weak and we can use it against them if we’re smart.”