Page 3 of Breaking the Annulment

“You have no idea what’s out there,” he muttered. His hands curled, as though reining in the urge to shake her. “Maybe you’ve been lucky so far, but trust me, you’re not safe on your own. You’re surrounded by enemies.”

Aurelia shook her head, exasperated. “They’re Giannopoulos enemies, not mine. Once I’m no longer connected to you, they’ll have no reason to come after me. And, as we’ve just established, I’m not on my own. In fact, David will be flying in soon. He’ll be waiting for me when I get back to the hotel.”

Michalis’s lip curled in a snarl. “You’re still my wife. Has he been in your bed?”

Realizing she’d gone a step too far, she tried to backtrack. She wanted his cooperation, not his anger. “He is aware of my…situation.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he growled. “Has he touched you?”

She took a deep breath, her heart about to explode, it was beating so fast. “That’s none of your business. Not anymore. It’s time to let me go.”

Instead of closing her door, as Aurelia expected, with a string of Greek expletives, Michalis climbed in, forcing her to scoot over.

As he pulled the door closed behind him, shutting them in together, the air escaped her lungs in a loud ‘whoosh’. Every cell in her body was electrified. She started shaking like a leaf, as ifshe was facing down a dangerous predator.Fool. That’s exactly what he is, and now he’s got your scent.

She took a shaky breath and tried to relax as the limo pulled away. There was nothing Michalis could do.

She would be free.

It was just a matter of time.

2

Night had fully fallen by the time the limo glided through tall iron gates. Under the glow of strategically placed lights, a sprawling Mediterranean-style house––mansion, really–– spread out before them. Armed guards flanked the entrance. The car stopped, and Michalis climbed out, then reached back for Aurelia. She ignored his hand and slid out on her own. She’d realized an hour ago that he had no intention of taking her back to her hotel, and was still fuming.

“This way,” he ordered.

She surveyed the security detail—men in dark suits, all on high alert. Her throat tightened. It was, and wasn’t, exactly as she remembered it: lavish and beautiful, yes, but the intricate ironwork on the bottom windows and doors that had once made her feel safe and protected now seemed like prison bars.

Inside, they traversed a grand foyer with polished floors and a vaulted ceiling. Staff and guards paused to stare at her. Not a single face was familiar to her. She lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness. If Michalis thought he could intimidate her into compliance, he was mistaken.

He ushered her into a private study. The door shut, leaving them alone. The decor was all dark wood and old-world charm, with leather chairs and an ornate desk. His office.

“Sit.” Michalis pointed to the chair across from his desk.

She refused, standing near a bookshelf. “I’m not here to make myself at home. Sign the papers and let me leave.”

He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “No,” he said simply.

Her patience snapped. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“No.” He studied her, voice controlled. “Do you think you can just walk away again? We have things to discuss. Your safety is only one of them.”

Aurelia tapped her foot impatiently. “There’s nothing to discuss, Michalis. We’re hardly more than strangers. We never should have gotten married in the first place and the mistake is easily rectified. We never slept together, never consummated the marriage. I’m not asking for a settlement. I don’t want your money. All I want is out so that I can move on with my life. You’ll just have to find someone else to be your shield.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. I haven’t been dead these past seven years. I have eyes. I can read. Every time I turn around, there’s another post on social media with you and some new woman. I bet it’s been convenient, all these years, being married to an absentee wife, giving you the perfect excuse not to get serious with any of them, yet not having me around, cockblocking you. Not that they seemed to care much that a ring on their finger was never on the negotiating table. I guess being mistress to the great Michalis Giannopoulos was just too tempting to pass up.”

He smirked. “You sound jealous.”

“Ugh!” She stomped her foot. “Get a grip. If I was jealous, I wouldn’t be trying to get an annulment! Why can’t you just––”

“Enough.” His voice cut through her protest. “You can have your tantrum later. For now, you’ll stay in a guest room. Don’t try to leave. If you behave, we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She stared, heart pounding. “Tantrum? Excuse me?! You have no right––”

He moved closer, the tension thick as molasses. “I have every right while you carry my name.”

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