Page 14 of Before Broken Vows
Would there have ever been a good time?
I shake my head.
Since I laid eyes on her, there's been this cold and vicious feeling in my chest. From the moment she left, I've wondered where she went. Why she vanished. Over the course of four years, I buried the pain beneath layers of work, control, and too many one-night stands—searching for meaning in a meaningless situation.
And just when I think I've gotten my head above water, internally, because tracking down my father's killer is proving to be a shit show, she comes waltzing back into my life.
I've got too much on my plate. I don't also need the woman who shattered my world suddenly needing me.
I take a few deep breaths to steady myself as I feel anger and mixed emotions rising.
Fuck, how can this be happening?
I should have just let her run off. Ignored the note. Driven away. Let her suffer whatever problems she has.
Even as the thought forms, I know it's a lie. Despite everything—despite the rage and betrayal burning through me—I can't walk away. Not from her. Not when she looked at me with those eyes full of genuine fear.
But I can't let that matter, because I don't matter to her. So I need to find out where she's been. Then I'll decide whether to help her or destroy her.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and in walks George Zervas. Old instinct tightens my muscles, readying for a fight that isn't coming. Not today, anyway. We're allies, for now.
He spots me, nods once, and walks over. No bodyguards. Just like we agreed.
"Theo," he says, offering a handshake. "Good to see you."
"Zervas." I gesture to my coffee. "Want something?"
He turns to the waiter. "Ouzo with two ice cubes."
"Right to it, huh?" I ask.
"Well," he says, looking around, "when you get to be my age, coffee after noon keeps you up all night."
His drink comes, and he takes a slow sip. "I looked into the banking situation, like you asked," he says, placing his glass down.
"And?"
"Your banker friend was right. The accounts are untouchable. Whoever's behind it isn't stupid. They know how to layer their money, launder it clean."
I shake my head. "That's the thing. I've never run into accounts like this. Something's not right."
He clears his throat. "Agreed. What have you found about the Athenian Warriors after talking to you-know-who?"
I take a sip of coffee. "Nothing. Gave me a lawyer's name. I'm currently looking into it."
"What's his name?"
"Uhh, Chris Xanos."
"Doesn't ring a bell," he says and takes a sip of his drink. "One thing's for certain—taking out Stavros, me, and your family? No single family could pull off this level of financing on their own. It's too much."
I lean back slightly, fingers tapping the table. "You think it's a coalition or something else?"
"Maybe. But since the accounts the money is coming from are restricted and we can't get to them, I'm thinking someone tied to government—and that's got me worried."
I lean forward. "Why?"
He leans in as well. "Look, Athens is full of men who owe favors and trade blood for votes. Additionally, those same men are paid to turn their eyes from the things I do. Your family does. If that is tampered with, God forbid, lost, we're all in deep shit," he says and leans back. "We'll spend the rest of our lives rotting in a cell."
