by C. Kennedy
They boarded the elevator, and Michael looked for the key slot. Jake took the key from his hand and slid it into a barely noticeable slit.
Michael gaped at him. “I was getting there.”
“Sure you were.”
“Hey, this is a learning experience for me.”
Jake shook his head. “Clearly. A slow one.”
“Shut up, bro.”
Nicos rubbed a hand down his face and tried to stifle a smile.
“They are like this very much of the time,” Christy said softly.
Michael smiled and one-armed hugged him. The elevator ascended skyward, and Christy fidgeted. Michael hugged him again. “You’re going to do great. If it gets to be too much, we’ll take a break or leave.”
“Okay.”
“Seriously, little buddy, what Michael said.”
“I wish to understand the years past.”
“We’ll help.”
“I will do what I can to help as well,” Nicos said.
“Thank you, General, but I do not wish Ariel to believe this is the interrogation.”
“I will do my best to assure her that it is not.”
“Thank you.”
The elevator slowed, came to a stop, and the doors opened to a beautiful marble foyer.
Michael’s brows shot up. “Um, okay. Where’s the hallway?”
Jake guided Michael forward. “Private elevator, bro. You’re here.”
Celeste met them with a brief bow. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Celeste.” She offered another brief bow to Christy. “You must be Christophoros. Very much a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“Please, I am Christy.”
“Christy, then.”
There was that bowing thing again. Michael still hadn’t figured it out. He needed to remember to ask Christy about it.
She turned to Jake. “Jacob?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Celeste. This is Michael, and this is General Sotíras.”
“A pleasure. This way, please.”
They followed Celeste through an elegant living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The room, decorated in white with gold accents, made Michael anxious. He was sure his shoes weren’t clean enough to walk on white carpeting. He couldn’t help but stare out the windows as he followed Celeste and nearly tripped over a low table.
She led them to a dining area and a table set for six. “We’ve arranged a late brunch. Please be seated and enjoy yourselves. I’ll tell Madame Ariel and Mademoiselle Sophia you have arrived.”
“Thank you, mademoiselle,” Christy said softly.
Celeste’s cheeks flushed a light pink. “Thank you, Christy.”
They seated themselves, and Christy dug in like the hungry man he was. It pleased Michael because there was a time when Christy hardly ate at all.
“Should we wait for them?” Michael asked.
Christy shook his head. “They will come when they finish the argument.”
Michael looked to Jake, who only shrugged.
AN HOUR passed, they had finished eating, and now sat in pensive silence.
“What do you think is going on?” Michael asked.
Nicos cleared his throat. “I suggest that Ariel knows something vital. Something that keeps the Sannas interested in the Castlios family beyond Yosef’s obsession with Christy.”
Christy studied Nicos intently. “What is it?”
“I don’t know, but I have no alternative but to believe it is information she is willing to go to great lengths to protect.”
That was a disconcerting statement. Michael sat forward. “Maybe it’s because Christy can take over the Sanna companies, and they want Christy under their control.”
Nicos shook his head. “That is a given and well known now with the pending proceedings. It would be something very particular. Perhaps having to do with Alexis.”
“My mother did not like the Sannas. I believe she hated them.”
“I think you are correct. However, she may have had knowledge that she passed on to Ariel.”
Christy shook his head, disheartened. “I do not know.”
“Do you remember your mother keeping records? A diary, perhaps?”
Christy nodded. “She was the very good artist and kept the small book of drawings and words.” His face suddenly turned infinitely sad. “My father rid the house of her things upon her death.”
Nicos winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, we’re getting nowhere just sitting here and it’s been quiet, so I think I’ll go knock on the door,” Jake announced.
“Do you wish me to go with you?” Christy asked.
“Let me do a little recon, and I’ll be right back.” Jake left the room in search of Celeste.
“What is the recon?” Christy asked.
“Reconnaissance. Meaning he’s going to check things out,” Michael explained.
“The reconnaissance is like the spying?”
Michael smiled. “He isn’t going to spy, babe. He’s going to knock on the door and check things out.”
“Ah, okay. We wait.”
Jake returned within minutes. “Ariel is doing what most beautiful women do. She’s making herself beautiful, and they’ll be out in a minute. If you’re smart, you won’t make any comments about her swollen eyes.”
“What is wrong with the eyes?” Christy asked.
“She’s been crying, little buddy. I’d be gentle with her.”
Concern imbued Christy’s mien. “Sophia?”
“She’s okay but sad and wants to know what happened to my arms. I told her I’d tell her later.”
“She did not say something to you?”
Jake breathed in deeply and blew the breath out slowly. “She says the news is surprising, and she now understands why Ariel refused to talk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
THEY ROSE from their seats when Sophia and Ariel entered the room. Ariel was stunningly beautiful, and Michael saw the family resemblance immediately—the same crystal-clear blue eyes, the thick blonde mane, and small stature. She carried herself with great poise; she was elegant, majestic, almost regal. Though gorgeous, her exhaustion and strain were evident.
Ariel went directly to Christy and cupped his face in her hands gently. She stroked a hand over his long hair, looked into his eyes, and spoke softly in Greek. Christy’s face turned infinitely sad, and his eyes filled with tears. As a rule Michael didn’t understand Greek but knew enough to know that Christy was repeating the word “no.” Then Ariel hugged Christy, and they cried together for an indefinable time. When Ariel withdrew and petted his hair again, everyone sat except Michael, who offered his chair to Ariel. She graciously accepted it and sat holding Christy’s hand.
Sophia sat next to Jake, leaving only the seat at the head of the table available to Michael.
Ariel met Nicos’s eyes. “General, it is good to see you again.”
He stood, and she offered a hand across the table. He leaned forward, gently took it in his hand, and kissed the back of it. “Always a pleasure, Madame Antoniou. You are as beautiful as ever.”
“Ariel, please.”
“Only if you will do me the honor of calling me Nicos.”
She nodded, and Nicos retook his seat.
Sophia whispered something to Celeste before speaking. “Mitéra, this is my Jacob.”
Jake stood and leaned over the table to shake Ariel’s hand briefly. “A pleasure, Madame Antoniou.”
She smiled and nodded.
Sophia gestured to Michael. “This is Christy’s Michael.”
Michael followed Jake’s lead, stood, and shook Ariel’s hand briefly. “Nice to meet you, Madame Antoniou.”
“It is a great pleasure to meet you both, but let us dispense with the formalities. Please call me Ariel,” she said politely. Her voice sounded identical to Sophia’s, but her accent was Greek with a hint of British.
Celeste set a fizzy red drink in front of Ariel that looked t
o Michael like bright cherry soda. “Would anyone like a drink?” she asked as she set a glass of iced tea before Sophia.
“Espresso,” Nicos said briefly.
“I’m good,” Michael said quickly.
“Me too,” Jake said.
“Christy?”
Christy gestured to Ariel’s drink. “The same.”
“Mitéra, would you like me to offer a brief explanation and leave you to answer questions?” Sophia asked.
“If you would,” Ariel answered.
Sophia sipped her iced tea and began. “Christy, our mother originally tried to give us both to Ariel. The explanation she gave to Vasilis, our father, was that she could not keep the rigorous schedule of modeling and be a full-time mother. The true reason, of course, was that she was aware of Vasilis’s illicit activities. They argued. He was of the opinion that she was capable of caring for at least one child while modeling and acquiesced to only one of us going to Ariel. As time went on, Vasilis’s activities worsened, and our mother became more afraid. Against his wishes she was bringing you to Ariel the night of the car accident.”
Christy sat infinitely still, seemingly carved of stone, and Michael began to worry.
Ariel studied Christy at length, and he finally turned to her and asked a question in Greek.
Sophia clarified for Michael and Jake. “He asks how our mother arrived at the decision to give me to Ariel first.”
Ariel offered a brief smile in appreciation of the translation. “Your mother felt Sophia was more likely to adjust to a new home without the other than you were.”
Christy’s brows shot up. “She believed me to be weak?”
Ariel shook her head. “Sensitive. You were close with your mother. Sophia was independent, and Vasilis gave Alexis only moments to make the decision. She did the best she could.”
Christy seemed to accept this explanation before turning to Nicos. “What do you know of the accident?”
“I was there when we pulled you and your mother from the wreckage.”
“The news reports are correct? There is the suspicion my father caused it?”
Nicos gave Christy a long considering look. “The brake lines had been severed, but we were never able to prove who severed them.”
“What do you believe?”
“We know your mother and father argued before she left the house.” He gestured to Ariel. “Now I know that they argued about you going to live with Ariel.”
“That is not an answer.”
Nicos narrowed his eyes on Christy briefly. “I believe your father caused the accident,” he said unequivocally.
Christy looked off into the distance, going to his faraway place, and Michael’s worry mounted. “Babe?”
Christy slowly blinked once before turning to Michael. “I am okay, filos.” He turned to Ariel again. “The general has the record of the adoption of Sophia by you.”
Ariel nodded.
“Why does the death certificate of Sophia exist?”
A small gasp left Sophia, Jake’s brows shot up, and he exchanged a nervous glance with Michael before he spoke. “What are you talking about, Christy?”
Christy gestured to Nicos to explain, and he looked uneasy.
Ariel’s posture became taut, almost rigid, and she spoke succinctly. “I will answer this. Once Alexis gave Sophia to me, Sophia was dead to Vasilis. So”—she made a small gesture toward Sophia—“he made you dead of record out of spite.”
The look on Sophia’s face was one of disbelief. “I was nothing more than a mere child. How could he—?” She abruptly fell silent and gathered her composure. “I apologize, Christy. Please continue.”
“He did not do this so she could not inherit the money?”
Ariel shook her head. “Inheritance was of no consequence. He was simply a loathsome, spiteful bastard.”
Christy looked at Sophia. “I make the apology for this.”
Sophia’s face softened, and she smiled. “No need. I’m only thankful we are nothing like him.”
Michael watched Christy intently as his expression became one of uncertainty, then seemed to morph into one of resolve. He turned to General Sotíras again. “You will fix the record?”
Nicos sat back in his chair. “I suggest you speak with Nero. You may wish to leave things as they are.”
“Why?”
“Nero has made certain legal provisions for Sophia and granted her certain authorities over your assets pursuant to your instructions.”
Christy nodded.
“Those instructions are based upon her being your cousin, correct?”
Christy nodded again.
“I would imagine undoing and redoing those provisions, authorities, and documents would be time-consuming, costly, and likely require governmental approval.”
Christy seemed to mull this over before turning to Sophia. “What do you wish?”
She reached across the table for Christy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Nothing—no document, no agreement, most importantly, no one’s hatred—can change that we were born together. I agree with Nicos. Speak to Nero.”
“Okay,” Christy said softly before turning to Ariel again. “We are the twin?”
Ariel smiled and nodded once.
“Who is born first?”
She laughed softly. “You, by several hours. Sophia was stubborn, did not want to leave the womb, and you nearly had different birthdays. Dare I say she hasn’t changed?”
Sophia huffed through a smile.
Christy smiled. “This is good. I am older and wiser, and I have the little sister.”
Sophia rolled her eyes.
Christy became serious again. “You do not like the Sannas. I understand this, but you do not like Thimi. Why is this?”
Ariel’s face twisted in sadness, and tears welled in her eyes.
“Mitéra?”
Ariel gestured for Sophia to speak.
“You are familiar with the story that Yosef raped Thimi’s mother? This is how he came to be?”
Christy nodded.
“It was Ariel.”
The color drained from Christy’s face, and he turned to Ariel.
“You are the mother of Thimi?”
Ariel met Christy’s eyes as her tears fell.
Sophia pressed. “Mitéra?”
Ariel nodded without turning from Christy.
Sophia continued, “There is more. Ariel arranged a private adoption for Thimi. Though Yosef agreed to it, he later changed his mind, sought Thimi, and took him from his adoptive home.”
Christy’s jaw dropped, and incredulity filled Nicos’s face. “Mother of God.”
“How old is Thimi at this time?” Christy asked.
“Four years of age. Ariel was suspected of taking Thimi and was eventually cleared by the police. A year later she overheard Petros bragging at a party that Yosef had returned his son to ‘the family’”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“and she knew who took him.”
Ariel withdrew two items from a pocket. One was Thimi’s birth certificate, the other a news article about the kidnapping. She smoothed them flat on the table before passing them to Nicos.
Christy suddenly roared and stood, launching into a Greek tirade as he began pacing the dining room. After a few moments, he turned, pointed at Nicos, and said something that didn’t sound kind.
“Christy,” Sophia tried.
Christy turned to her and unleashed more harsh words.
Michael stood and went to him, and Christy pushed him away. “Talk to me, Christy. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Christy suddenly stopped and looked up at Michael, tears welled, and he wailed, “I wish the Sanna family destroyed!” He fell against Michael’s chest and wept, and all Michael could do was to hold him until he cried it all out.
“There is more,” Sophia said softly.
Christy turned to her from the safety of Michael’s arms. “What?” he demanded.
“Ariel lives in
constant fear. She cannot say a word. She is watched by the Sannas, and they have threatened to ‘cause an accident’ if she says anything.” Sophia made air quotes again.
A red flush crept up Nicos’s face and into his hairline, his anger rising to the forefront. “Celeste!”
Celeste entered the room on quick, silent feet. “Yes, General?”
“You have one opportunity to answer this question honestly.”
She glanced at Ariel before meeting the general’s eyes.
“Have you had any contact with the Sannas or anyone in the Sannas’ employ?”
Her failure to respond said it all.
“Are you a US citizen?” Nicos asked, his anger barely contained.
She remained mute.
“She holds French and Greek citizenship,” Ariel answered for her.
“Take a seat,” he ordered.
She moved to leave the room. Sophia and Nicos stood simultaneously, and Michael stepped away from Christy to block her departure.
“I will have hotel security stop the elevator if you attempt to leave.” Nicos’s calm voice belied the anger that lurked just beneath the surface of his skin.
Celeste moved to an armchair in the corner of the room and sat bolt upright.
Nicos left the room, cell phone in hand, Michael remained standing, and Christy glared at Celeste, disgust plain on his face.
“The general will take care of this,” Sophia said quickly.
Christy withdrew the cell phone from his pocket and dialed. “Yes, this is me, Christy. I wish to speak to Kýrios Santini. … I will wait.”
“Why are you calling Dad?” Jake asked.
Christy glanced at Celeste before turning back to Jake. “One moment, please.”
Ariel turned to Sophia. “Lock Celeste in her room, remove the telephone, and collect her cell phone.”
Sophia nodded. “Celeste?”
Celeste didn’t move from the chair.
“Michael,” Jake said as he stood.
Michael looked at Celeste. “Let’s go.”
Christy shouted something in Greek, and Celeste immediately stood.
Sophia led Celeste from the room, and Michael and Jake followed.
Christy returned to the call. “Yes, this is me, Christy. I did not mean to make the yell at you, Kýrios Santini.”