And somewhere in the midst of that—Italy, danger, threats—I have to survive the man I never stopped loving. And the truth I've only just begun to reveal.
18
THEO
"So, you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?" Dimitri asks the moment we're in the hallway, far enough from Stassi's door.
"Not now," I say as we walk toward the office. The almost-kiss with Stassi still lingers on my lips like a phantom touch, and my mind is racing with everything she's revealed. My son. My father's betrayal. People trying to bring harm to the people I care about.
"Bullshit, not now," Dimitri keeps pace with me. "Anastasia fucking Milonakis is back after four years of radio silence. The woman who you moved earth to find. Who fucking destroyed you, bro. And from what I just saw, you two looked about ready to tear each other's clothes off. So what the fuck? I'm not letting someone do this to you again."
I push open the heavy oak door to the office, not bothering to hold it for him. "I said, not now."
The office is dark except for the desk lamp. The leather chair creaks as I drop into it. I rub my hands over my face, feeling the rough stubble against my palms.
Dimitri doesn't sit. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like I'm about to explode. Maybe I am.
"She came to me for help, okay," I finally say, letting my hands fall to the desk. "Someone's threatening her."
"And you just welcomed her back with open arms?" Dimitri scoffs. "This is the woman who vanished without a fucking trace. The woman you tore yourself apart looking for."
I feel the muscles in my jaw twitch. "It's complicated."
"Yeah, I bet it is," he says and takes the seat across from me, leaning forward. "Look, Theo, I love you. You're my brother. But I watched what happened after she left. I was there, remember? More than anyone. I saw what it did to you. What you did to others. I'm not— you hear me? I am not letting that shit happen again."
The memory flashes through my head—the endless nights, the drinking, the anger, the dead ends, the growing certainty that something terrible had happened to her. The slow, crushing realization that she'd chosen to leave. The way it hollowed me out.
I look at my brother, who has every damn right to feel the way he does, and I suddenly want to tell him everything. About Xander. About our father's ultimatum to Stassi. About the arranged marriage that was planned for me—a strategic alliance with the Irish that I never knew about.
But the words lodge in my throat. It's too much, too fast. And some truths need to be handled carefully, especially when they rewrite our understanding of our father.
"I'll explain everything," I say instead. "But right now, I'm still figuring it out myself. She's staying here for now. That's all you need to know."
Dimitri studies me, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs. "Fine. But whatever she's involved in, whatever brought her back, make damn sure it doesn't blow back on us. And if it might? You fucking tell me and we handle it together. We've got enough problems as it is."
He's right about that. Father's murder. The power vacuum in Greece. The unknown players trying to move in on our territory.
"I assume that's why we're calling Ares now," I remind him. "One thing at a time."
Dimitri nods, accepting the temporary truce. "He's going to want to know about her, you know."
"And I'll tell him what he needs to know. When it's time."
I'm not going to get into how he already knows.
I pick up my secure phone, dialing Ares's number. As it rings, everything flashes before my eyes. A son I've never met. A woman I never stopped loving. A father whose legacy is more complicated—and more painful—than I ever imagined.
The call connects, and Ares's voice fills the room. "About fucking time."
"I'm here," I say, putting the call on speaker. "Dimitri's with me."
"Good," Ares says. "I've got something for you. I think you'll like it. Theo, that lawyer's laptop—the one who offed himself—it was encrypted, but you sent it to our men, and our tech guys managed to crack it, or at least part of it."
I lean forward in my seat and Dimitri shoots me a questioning look across the desk.
"What did they find?" I ask.
"It was a fucking goldmine," Ares says, his voice crackling slightly over the line. "We're talking records of wire transfers, detailed notes on meetings with Athenian Warrior members—including your friend Yannis and other high-ranking pieces of shit in their organization."