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I know he's thinking about the phone, the evidence, the moment he'll have to face his brothers with me at his side.

I roll down the window, letting the salty ocean breeze hit my face. Anything to distract from the nerves.

"We should be in Kalamata in two hours," he says, breaking the silence that's been hanging between us since we left Piraeus. "If we don't hit traffic."

I nod, unsure what to say. We're heading toward his brothers with evidence that could finally end everything, and yet all I can think about is how quickly this strange connection between us could end once justice is served.

Will it end? I know he mentioned that vacation, but is he serious?

I look at Dimitri's profile, the hard line of his jaw, the focus in his eyes. Everything my mother taught me about men evaporated once I met him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, eyes still on the road.

The question catches me off guard. "I—" My voice stalls. "Nothing important."

His jaw tightens. "I thought we weren't lying to each other anymore."

He's right.

"I was thinking about my mother," I say finally. "About how she taught me to move through the world."

His eyes flick to me for just a second before returning to the road. "Tell me."

The words won't come out at first, embarrassment making my cheeks flush. But something about being in this car with him, heading toward whatever awaits us, makes me reckless with truth.

"Since boys first became interested in me, I've used my mom's words to manipulate them." I pause and laugh. "Wow, I've never said that out loud before."

Dimitri doesn't look at me, but I see the way his knuckles flex on the wheel. He's listening.

"On the night before my first modeling shoot, something I didn't really want to do, she came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed." I close my eyes, remembering the way she smelled of expensive perfume and wine. "She said, 'God blessed you to betall, big boobs, and a tiny waist. You'll let all women down if you don't use that to your advantage.'"

Dimitri's expression doesn't change.

"I didn't know what she meant then," I say. "But I learned. I learned how to smile without meaning it. How to let my hand linger too long on a man's arm. How to look at him like he was the only thing I'd ever wanted. How to pretend I was soft when all I felt was hollow."

My throat tightens, but I force myself to keep going.

"It was all strategic. It worked so well that I never questioned it. I could get what I wanted. Make people do things they swore they never would."

I look down at my hands, my thumbs twirling around one another, something I used to do when I was nervous, but haven't in years.

"But it didn't work on you."

Being Dimitri, I expect him to gloat. To smile. But when I glance over, he's just watching the road, his face serious.

I stare forward, now dreading every curve that brings us closer to Kalamata, to his brothers.

"Well, it kind of did," he finally says, his voice lower than before. "At the wedding, you had me."

I blink. "What?"

"Standing there in that red dress. You knew exactly what you were doing."

I laugh. "I thought so. But it wasn't enough to help when I thought I needed it."

"I was always taught love wasn't in it for me, just lust. Protect and make sure my family prevails. Never be weak." He shakes his head slightly. "But with you? Shit, I don't know. Protecting you almost feels the same as protecting my family. That's gotta mean something. But I don't know what yet."

I feel tingles all over my body from his words. I feel giddy, nervous, and excited all at the same time.