Page 86 of Onyx Realm

I felt more than saw his side glance.

“Can I tell you a secret, Maria?”

“Sure,” I breathed. Why not?

“Some nights, I let them out to roam the parkways.”

Astounded at his revelation, I laughed. “You’re joking!”

“Nope.” He grinned, this time with actual friendliness in his tone. “If you’re free after work, I’d love to show you.”

Oh, sweet Mother of God, I needed to leave. Markos would blow a fuse if he knew his rival was asking me out.

“How do you corral them before business hours resume?” The exit was a few feet away. Just a few more steps and I would be free of him.

“Easy. I give them a tempting reason to return.” He stepped so my path was blocked. “Where are you working, Maria?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say the first thing that popped into my head. A thick drawl interrupted before I could make a cataclysmic mistake and say I worked at Delphi.

“Mr. Skorpios, what personal attention! Come to meet me at the gate instead of waiting for me in your office. I’m touched.”

I’d just been saved from saying the name of the Twelve’s bougie club by none other than the land developer.

“Mr. Smithfield, you’re early, sir,” Alexios said over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me.

“I’ll...see you around,” I rushed to say.

“Ah, you have company—Mrs. Demetriou! I didn’t expect to see you so far away from your village,” the faux Texan gushed.

The split second was all it took for lightning to strike and wipe any trace of friendliness from Alexios’s face.

I shifted my stance, ready to bolt for the gate. It was right there, escape so close.

“Demetriou,” Alexios thundered, voice low and terrible.

Just like that, I was trapped—caught. Deep in trouble. And yet, the only coherent thought in my head was how the hell the Texan knew who I was.

Chapter 28 – Markos

The late afternoon sun hung low in a copper sky, casting long shadows across the secluded cove. Waves lapped gently against the hull of the weathered fishing boat as it bobbed at anchor fifty yards from shore. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their cries providing convenient cover for the low voices of my men.

Filippos wiped sweat from his brow and glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Hurry up,” he hissed. “We’ve got maybe an hour before the coast guard makes their pass.”

Four figures moved in a practiced rhythm between boat and shore, their silhouettes darkening against the glare of sunlight on water. The small rowboat made its fifth trip, riding low in the water, laden with wooden crates stenciled with Cyrillic lettering. The catch of the day was bringing a pretty penny into our coffers.

As I lifted another small box of ammunition onto the truck, the sound of my phone ringing on the trunk of my unmarked car summoned me. Sauntering over, I paused to grab the hand towel and pat my own face before picking up the bleating device. A frown formed on my lips at the unknown number. Since the area code was local, I answered.

The phone was slippery against my ear, slick with the sweat from my palms. “Yes?” I snapped, voice wavering as the sun shone harshly and the shadows stretched long.

The connection crackled with static, and a too pleasant voice trickled through the interference. It had an oily smoothness that felt familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place. “Mr. Demetriou, we need to talk.”

Already, like a reflex, my jaw tightened and my neck stiffened. “Talk,” I shot back, a command more than a question.

“No, no...you misunderstand,” the voice replied, dripping with a condescension that made my skin crawl. “Dinner, tonight. At the Ray & Shark—you know it?”

The name of the snooty restaurant that overlooked Hillsborough Bay, the one with valet parking and overpriced wine, flashed far too clearly in my mind. Their food wasn’t local despite their advertisement, and the portions were smaller than a child’s fist.

“And why would I do that?” I barked, cutting the air with my words. My pulse hammered against my temples. “I don’t know you.”

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