Page 43 of Influence

“It was always part of the plan for you to get married eventually, Cali,” Avra reminded her in a calm but firm tone.

“Yes, but this means next,” Cali exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a dramatic gesture, mirroring our mother'swhenever she was exasperated with Papa. “You two are quite annoying right now. I’m going to check on how Vik is doing.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Cali turned on her heel and left. Avra and I exchanged amused smirks as the door clicked shut behind her. It was undeniably a silly tradition, a relic from a bygone era. But the Greek customs handed down through our family held a special place in my heart. I could still hear Mama’s voice, so strong and melodic, recounting this particular tradition during my childhood, her stories etched in my memory like an old, cherished photograph.

Our wedding would be a tapestry of these Greek traditions, each thread carefully woven in. We couldn’t imagine the ceremony without including the Stefana.

Niko and I would wear two ornate crowns, crafted with intricate designs and linked by a slender satin ribbon. This connection represented God’s blessing upon our union. During the ceremony, Avra, our Koumbara, would exchange the crowns three times, a ceremonial dance that sealed our bond in the eyes of tradition and love.

However, we set boundaries around certain customs, such as having our bed showered with rice and coins, and the idea of placing a baby on it to symbolize fertility. The mental image of picking stubborn grains of rice from the sheets was far from romantic, so I firmly declined any access to our bedroom for such antics.

Our room.

Ever since that first unforgettable night, I had spent every evening wrapped in the indulgences of Niko’s bed. Tonight would be our last night there for a while; starting tomorrow, we would jet off to our honeymoon on a secluded private island in the Mediterranean, a gem belonging to Niko’s family. The reality of being with a man who spent his days overseeing vast vineyards, his hands perpetually dusted with earth, yet spokecasually of owning an island off the coast of Greece, was still something I struggled to comprehend.

It was an easy decision when he offered me the choice between three weeks of globe-trotting or seclusion on the island. Nearly a month away from the bustle of family and the demands of daily life would provide us with the rare opportunity to truly understand each other beyond the confines of the bedroom. Not that I had any complaints about our intimate moments so far.

Niko was more than just an incredible lover—he was a master at balancing fiery passion with patience. His dedication to discovering new ways to please me was astounding, as if he found joy in making me reach ecstasy.

And now, the day of our wedding had finally arrived. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bundle of nerves, my stomach fluttering with anticipation. We’d chosen to marry on the estate because, despite my efforts, I couldn’t find a more stunning location. The ceremony would take place beneath Dryad, Niko’s cherished oak tree. The idea struck me like a revelation, the perfect blend of nature and love.

Niko’s joy was palpable when I shared my decision with him. He lifted me off my feet and twirled me around with such delight, affirming my choice with every spin.

From our bedroom window, I gazed out at the gathering crowd, elegantly mingling as they awaited the start of the ceremony. Much like Avra’s wedding, we had invited many familiar faces, if only for appearances. Niko’s family friends and business connections filled the guest list. However, the people who truly mattered to me were my sisters, Vik, and of course, Niko, the man waiting to begin the rest of our lives together.

Over the past six weeks, I had grown increasingly attached to Niko. I had surprisingly become comfortable in his spacious, sunlit home, which was slowly transforming into our own.

After a week of tentative adjustment, I enthusiastically dove into my new life. I felt it was essential to carve out my role as Niko’s wife, especially regarding household dynamics.

Although Soti, our diligent housekeeper, expertly handled all the daily tasks, I knew it was up to me to make certain choices that would shape our living environment. With his laid-back demeanor, Niko had given me complete freedom to do as I wished, nodding in quiet approval whenever I suggested a change to the decor or introduced a new routine.

His unwavering trust enveloped, but it also stirred anxiety. I had only resided here for a few short weeks, and in my experience, trust must be earned rather than freely given without reservation.

I couldn’t shake the nagging thought that it might all be some test. Was he waiting for the moment I would inevitably slip up, ready to reel me back in? What would happen when I finally made a mistake, as everyone surely does?

“What are you lost in thought about over there?” Avra asked, her hand shaking my shoulder as if to nudge me out of the frantic whirlwind of my thoughts. “Are you getting cold feet?”

I shook my head. “No, not that at all. I’m just wondering if this dream might be too perfect. Niko has been nothing short of wonderful—he listens, never argues, and grants me the sort of freedom I never knew I craved. He’s kind, patient, and incredibly attentive.”

Avra smirked and fanned herself dramatically. “Oh yes, I’ve heard all about his so-called attentiveness. I hear you let it all out with a scream every day, as if you’re announcing your presence at the top of your lungs.”

“Hush,” I murmured, shaking my head and pressing my lips together as if to physically hold back the exaggeration. “That’s not what I mean.”

“So then, what’s really eating at you?” she pressed.

I hesitated and then confessed, “I can’t shake this thought—maybe it’s all just an act. Before I got to know him, I did my homework on him, as you well remember. Rumors traveled fast about his quick, almost violent temper, swirling around like the liquid ouzo in these parts. So, where is this tempestuous side of him? Is he biding his time until I’m his bride, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal his darker nature?”

Avra burst into hearty laughter, shaking her head in disbelief at the very notion. “Layana, just calm down. Niko is genuinely a kind man. Why can’t you relax and accept that? It’s obvious, sweetheart—he adores you. And let’s not forget, you’re strong enough to handle anything. If this supposed ‘bad man’ ever shows his true colors, I have no doubt you’d swat him on the nose with a newspaper like a mischievous puppy, and he’d obediently fall right back in line.”

I found myself bursting into giggles at the absurd image Avra created. Her imagination conjured a scene so surprising that it made me respond with delight. Before long, her laughter blended with mine, enveloping the space in an atmosphere of comfort and joyful energy.

“You’re absolutely terrible,” I said, shaking my head in amused disapproval.

“But I’m right, and deep down you know it.” She winked teasingly.

“Maybe,” I murmured with a shrug. As she stepped up behind me, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—my gown flowing gracefully over my anxious hands, each ripple a testament to the butterflies in my stomach.

“You look amazing, sweetheart. I wish Mama and Papa were here to see you. They’d be so proud.”

---