Page 31 of Marcellus: House of Drakos
“What’s happened to him?” she asked him. “Please tell me something.”
Olivier leaned back. “You will hear the full story,” he said, “when we get to the house.”
Savannah looked at him. For some reason she expected to be going to Drakos Aeronautics Headquarters building to his father’s office. “House? What house?”
“Our father’s house.”
“Why are we going there?”
Olivier, desperately concerned for his brother, was getting irritated with her questions. “You’ll know when we get to the house,” he reiterated.
But that wasn’t good enough for Savannah. “Why can’t you just tell me?”
“Because it’s not something I can discuss right now.” His voice was firm and elevated. So much so that his driver took a peep through his rearview mirror.
And in that moment Savannah understood that whatever it was, it was bad. More so than she had imagined. And her heart sank.
She didn’t say another word for the remainder of their trip.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
First they had to drive through a massive amount of reporters and photographers that were camped in front of the tall security gate that was manned by armed guards. Savannah was confused. “What’s happened? Why are all of these reporters around here?”
Olivier looked at her. “You’re joking right?”
Savannah found that question insulting. “Why would I be joking?” But as soon as she answered his question with a question, she remembered. “Oh,” she said.
There had been countless news reports about mechanical issues with some Drakos planes over the last few months, and she’d heard about that horrific crash that killed everybody onboard. But she never even considered the fact that the media would stake out Niko’s father’s house because of those issues. But she now realized why wouldn’t they? Niko’s father was, after all, the owner of the company. It stood to reason that they would want to blame him.
But to deal with that crisis, and also Niko’s situation (whatever it was since she still didn’t know), sounded insane to Savannah. She wondered if the media was there because of Niko too. Maybe there was breaking news about Niko while she was on her computer looking for employment. It was all so surreal to Savannah.
But once they were able to get past the media, who had to keep their distance on the public street and could not touch the Drakos private property, they drove up to the security gate.Once it opened, she quickly forgot that media. She was blown away by what she was seeing.
After the tall security gate opened, a gate manned by armed guards, it opened to the front of a mansion that took up what looked like five city lots, with a beautiful limestone front, with wraparound porches on all three levels, perfectly manicured trees on either side of the long road that led up to a huge, decorative fountain in the middle of the circular driveway. It was beyond anything Savannah had ever seen before.
She knew Marcellus Drakos was a billionaire. But when they met in Niko’s penthouse eight years ago, it was easy for her to forget his status. But seeing how he actually lived changed all that. There was no forgetting a status that grand.
By the time the bodyguard opened the back passenger door and helped her out, and Olivier walked around and escorted her to the tall front entrance doors, she could feel herself trying to shake. But she shook it off. She was doing him a favor, not the other way around. She was there to answer his questions and, hopefully, to see that Niko had survived whatever he was caught up in. She wasn’t about to let her nerves get the best of her.
Besides, a part of her was hoping Niko would be back to himself again and could defy Alberto’s decree and get her job back. And that Marcellus would have forgotten he’d ever met her.
When she walked through that front door just ahead of Olivier and saw marbled floors and what looked like a grand rotunda that she often saw in a courthouse somewhere, and a pure-gold triple staircase, her mind slipped right past Niko and focused on the beauty before her. She’d never seen anything like it. She’d seen rich folks before, and their houses, but this was another world of rich.
“Madam?Madam?”
She didn’t realize Bernard was standing there calling her until he walked up closer to her.
“Oh I’m sorry. Yes?”
“Right this way please.”
She glanced at Olivier. He nodded. “I know. My father is a bit extra in his decorative tastes.”
“It’s not extra,” Savannah felt a need to say, as if his father needed her defense. “It’s beautiful. I was blown away by the beauty of it.”
Olivier didn’t respond, as if he agreed to disagree with her definition of beauty. But then he motioned with his hand that she should follow Bernard.
“Right,” she said, remembering the friendly-looking black man in front of her. With Olivier walking behind her, she followed the man beyond the foyer, down a long hall, and into a sitting room. Or parlor. Or whatever they called it since she was only guessing its name.
