Page 46 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
Nikos exhaled slowly, the sound equal parts resignation and understanding. Without a word, he tilted his head toward the office.
They walked in; leaving the door slightly ajar in their distraction. Theo moved to the windows, the city stretching out below in a glittering sprawl, his back to Nikos.
For a long moment, there was only the hum of the building and their breaths.
When Nikos finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of something carefully chosen.
“I got a message. From Warren Roberts—the oldest son of the old woman who used to live next to Chris. He lives on the West Coast and didn’t respond until the wee hours here.”
Theo’s shoulders stiffened. “Go on.”
“He remembered the couple from years ago because he used to hang out with Chris Smythe.” Nikos stepped closer, his voice steady but quieter now. “He said Chris met a young woman from Italy… a beautiful woman named Livia. He didn’t remember her last name. She came over on a visa to attend Juilliard.”
Theo turned slightly, his pulse a slow, heavy thud in his chest.
“According to Warren, Chris and Livia fell hard for each other. Warren was there when they eloped. Livia was three months pregnant. She hid it. According to what Chris told Warren, Livia’s parents never would’ve approved of him, especially with them both being so young. Chris told Warren Livia’s parents had other plans for her—someone else she was supposed to marry. But Chris adored her… and their daughter when she came along.”
The words landed like blows. Each one cemented what Theo already knew in his bones.
Nikos’s voice softened, tinged with something like grief.
“A month after the baby’s birth, on the drive home from a Medieval Arts Festival, a semi blew a tire in bad weather. Livia died instantly, along with two others. Chris…” Nikos’s throat worked. “Chris was left in a vegetative state.”
Theo stared at the city lights, each point of brightness blurring at the edges.
“Warren lost touch with the grandparents after that,” Nikos went on quietly. “But he saw Chris’s obituary five years later.”
The silence that followed was heavy enough to press into Theo’s chest.
Nikos moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder—a small gesture of solidarity in the storm gathering inside him.
Theo lowered his gaze, his other hand closing around the locket in his pocket. He pulled it free and placed it in Nikos’s palm.
Nikos flipped it open. His eyebrows rose at the photograph, then he gave a low, knowing whistle. “So this is why you’ve been looking like a man caught between heaven and hell.”
Theo’s voice was low, hard with certainty. “We’ll need to get a DNA sample from Rose to confirm it, but I know she’s Livia’s daughter.”
Nikos studied the tiny image of Livia, her smile frozen in time, then shut the locket with a quiet snap. “I didn’t realize she looked so much like Livia.”
Theo nodded once, the motion short, final.
Nikos’s mouth quirked in something between irony and awe. “Sometimes it’s a small world.”
Theo’s gaze turned inward, the truth of it pulsing in his blood. Small world… and getting smaller. Because there was no way in hell he was letting Rose slip out of his arms now—not when she was his in every way that mattered.
The cool marble chilled her bare feet as she padded out of the bedroom, careful not to make a sound. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—only to pass quietly through the living room and find something to drink—but Nikos’s voice stopped her mid-step.
“…Chris Smythe…”
Her breath caught.
Her father’s name.
Every instinct told her to walk away. Instead, she drifted toward the partially closed door, each step drawn by an invisible thread until she stood just outside his office.
Nikos was speaking now, his deep voice steady, clinical, almost like a storyteller recounting someone else’s tragedy. But the story he was telling… was hers.
She leaned in, the words hitting her in pieces—Livia, Juilliard, eloped, pregnant. A medieval festival. The truck. The accident.
