Page 3 of The Billionaire's Seduction Revenge

At his heart, Vasilios and Costa were a pair. Ruthless, determined, driven by an almost pathological need to succeed in all things, to triumph—at any cost. Which explained why, while Costa had been shocked by Vasilios’ takeover, he hadn’t questioned it. They’d both seen the writing on the wall: under Vasilios’s father Ricardo, the business was doomed to fail.

“Perhaps you don’t know my grandfather as well as you think.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps I do.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve had a lot of time with him these past few months.”

“Months,” Vasilios repeated, the word jerked from his belly. It was more serious than he thought.

“Yes, months,” she rolled her eyes dramatically. “Workingfor him,” she added.

“My grandfather has never tolerated live-in staff. If you’veworkedfor him, you must know that.” Though the running of the villa took a small army, everyone was employed on a daily basis. Costa hated the idea of his home being overrun by other people, and always had. He valued privacy, hated intrusions.

Her lips flickered into a half smile, and something shifted inside Vasilios. She was beautiful, but she was also complex and multi-faceted. A chameleon. He felt her shifts as the wind moved desert sands, and wanted to reach out and grab her, to take hold of those rare, ephemeral qualities before they shifted again, morphing into something else, so that he could study them, one by one. The unwelcome temptation had him freezing to the spot, every cell in his body held completely still.

“I don’t live in,” she pointed out. “I live here. Which is at least fifty metres from the house.”

“That’s semantics.”

“Or an important distinction,” she shrugged. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I came to see my grandfather. And not a moment too soon, apparently.”

She arched a brow in silent enquiry.

“It seems wise for me to stay for a while. To keep an eye on things.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “What is it like to have your mind permanently mired in the gutter?”

“Do you deny you have an interest in my grandfather?”

“Of course I don’t deny that. Who wouldn’t be interested by Costa? He’s a fascinating and compelling person. I love spending time with him. But as to whether or not that interest is romantic,” she said with a shake of her head. “That’s a hard no.”

Vasilios refused to acknowledge how her denial pleased him, nor to analyse why. At his heart, he was a sceptic: he’d learned to be. The protective mechanisms of seeing the worst in people had meant he was rarely disappointed. Nonetheless, he decided to give her a chance to explain the relationship.

“Tell me what work you do for him.”

“No,” she said after a contemplative silence. “I don’t think I will.”

His brows shot up.

“Is it a secret?”

“Of course not. But you’re rude and offensive and I don’t feel like talking to you.”

It was so unexpected he actually burst out laughing. “I didn’t realise you were so fragile.”

Her brow furrowed. “Believe me, I’m not. But I have more self-respect than to stand here and listen to this.”

She looked around the pool house with consternation then stalked towards the door.

“You’re leaving?” He prompted.

She spun around, glaring at him. “Well, one of us has to.”

“Then let it be me.” He held his hands up in an imitation of surrender. “This is, after all, your home. For now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Really? A threat?”

He lifted his shoulders. “A summation of the situation.”

---