Elle felt a strange ache low in her gut. Did Paolo know the pain he was inflicting with the throwaway remark that casually alluded to Christos’s usual dating patterns?
“It’s fine,” she said self-consciously.
“Where’re you from, anyway?”
“New York.”
“No stranger to great restaurants then,” Paolo grinned. “Wanna dance?”
Elle stared at him in confusion. “No, thanks.” She softened the rejection with a smile, and lifted her glance gratefully to the approaching waiter.
She took her mineral water and sipped it. She was thirsty. Parched. Anxious.
“Two more Martinis,” Paolo’s companion said without looking at the waiter.
Christos turned his head slightly, his eyes appraising Elle as though she were an object d’arte rather than a woman he’d been making love to every night for a week. She knew every inch of his body but she knew very little of his soul, she realised with a growing sense of discomfort.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Paolo. “Would you let me out?”
Paolo nodded. “Si.”
She shuffled out of the booth.
“Elle?” Christos’s word was a command rather than a question.
Her answering smile was tight. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She didn’t find it as easy to cut through the crowd as Christos had, but that was fine. Being swallowed into a heaving mass of people seemed to obfuscate her confusion temporarily. She found a quiet spot near the ladies’ rooms and pulled her phone out.
The little red circle bleeped at her demandingly from her emails and she finally swiped into them.
There were two from Hannah and several from Filip. With a sense of loneliness, she clicked into Filip’s first.
“Hey sis. Exam’s are just around the corner. I can’t wait to be done. What are we going to do this summer? Joey’s family’s asked me to go away with them but I think it’s more hassle than it’s worth. Besides, I’d rather spend time with you.”
Her heart swelled. Filip. The whole reason she’d got into this mess. And when Christos tired of her and sent her packing, she would still have her brother and he would have his education. He deserved brightness in his future after all that had littered his past.
“E! Where the hell are you? What’s going on? Don’t tell me you’re still shacked up with Billionaire Brat??”
Elle shook her head at Hannah’s unmistakable tone and hit reply.
“I’m sorry I haven’t written back in so long.” Her finger hovered over the virtual keyboard as she searched for the right words. “I’m still here. But I don’t know for how much longer. I miss you. Anything from the school?”
She pressed send then scrolled into the next email; it was also from Hannah.
“I know you said to let you know when I heard from the school. This arrived a couple of days ago and I just got around to opening it (sorry). So Rakanti has paid up Filip’s enrolment in full. To the rest of his schooling. As in, three years’ worth. I called them to confirm. So come home!! He can’t unpay it. H. xxxxx”
Elle leaned back against the wall and stared straight ahead. Stars were spinning in her eyes. The whole amount? All paid? Her relief was profound. Elle had felt, for four years, as though a tonne of bricks was pressing down on her chest. The medical bills from the car crash, taking over the rent of their apartment, learning to manage a household budget – it had all taken its toll. But the worry that kept her awake at night was simple: Filip. His education. His desire to learn. His brilliance. That was her responsibility now.
Nothing else mattered.
She could no longer feel anger towards Christos. No matter what he’d said to her or how he’d made her feel, the help he’d rendered was filling her with a jubilation she’d never experienced before.
Her eyes scanned the crowds right as he stood and began to move through the bar. He was obviously looking for someone. For her? That question was answered when their eyes met and he changed direction sharply towards her. She moved too, pushing off the wall and walking quickly to intercept him.
The second he was within reach she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. “Thank you,” she said into his mouth, her heart racing and tears of happiness stinging in her eyes. “Thank you.”
Puzzled, bewitched, curious and fascinated, he pulled backwards from her for a moment. “For what?”
“The fees.” She blinked up at him, her smile so dazzling he felt his gut clench. “Thank you.”
He linked his arms loosely behind her waist, moving his hips in time with the music. “I told you I would pay them. Why do you seem surprised?”
She blinked her eyes shut. “I just never thought you would take that burden so completely. I thought you would pay them term by term. That you might change your mind. That I would live with that uncertainty until he graduated.” She shook her head and now a single tear rolled down her cheek. “I can breathe again.”
She was beautiful and he was transfixed, but he was also undeniably infuriated. His father had held this same power. Why had he not wielded it? He’d met with Elle personally, and yet he’d done nothing beyond the bare minimum. Why? The suspicion was unpalatable. Christos found it easier to believe his father had known something vital and discrediting about Elle than he did to believe Filip simply chose not to do the right thing.
“You can breathe again,” he said finally, gruffly, keeping her close. The song was up-beat but they moved slowly, rocking their hips. His hands ran down her back of their own volition, cupping her beautiful rear with a strong sense of entitlement. “This was a mistake.”
She braced for it. The words that were going to end everything.
“We should go.”
She blinked up at him. “Why?” Just say it already.
His smile was self-deprecating. “I thought I wanted to be out with you. But being here, seeing the way people look at you … it makes me want to lock you up in a tower.” He shook his head, dark emotions transforming his face. “Let’s go.”
His jealousy was a palpable force and she was embarrassed by how happy it made her. What kind of modern woman was she that she needed such a barbaric emotion to convince her he cared?
Did he care?
Was that why he’d paid the fees in full?
She could never allow herself to listen to that hope; could she?
He held the door to his car open for her and she slid in to the scoop seat elegantly. He reached down, buckling her in and then keeping his face poised just above hers. “This is crazy.”
Her pulse fired in her throat. His eyes dropped to it and he shook his head ruefully.
“I want to show you someplace.”
“Where?”
He shut her door then came around to the driver’s side. His bulky frame immediately compressed the available air in the car; or so it seemed. Breathing was suddenly difficult.
“Christos?” She put her hand on his where it gripped the gear stick. “I just want to go back to your home.”
He looked at her for a piercing moment and then nodded. What good was there in denying it? “Yes. Fine. Let’s go home.”
While mainstream media took their time to gather information and fact check, the world of internet bloggers was a fast-paced, gossip-rich environment. Which is how, only hours after Elle and Christos had left kómma, Filip’s phone made a soft beeping noise. He reached for it quickly, silencing it before it could disturb Rafael in the bunk above him.
The google alerts he’d set up for Christos Rakanti had been triggered. The same google alerts that told him much of what his secret half-brother was up to. The google alerts that had told him with an odd sense of unreality, weeks earlier, that his father had died. The same google alerts he had to conceal from Elle, Hannah, and Chip, and anyone else in his life. Elle had tried so hard to protect him from the truth of his parentage. She had done everything possible to make sure he didn’t feel as unwanted and rejected as he was.
He swiped his screen open and then pulled up to sitting. His glasses were on the side table, he placed them onto the bridge of his nose then stared at the screen in confusion.
What the hell was Elle doing with Christos Rakanti?
He pushed down on the text, reading it with a sense of deep displeasure. Christos Rakanti, the most eligible bachelor in Athens has been strangely quiet for the last week much to the chagrin of the women who seem to follow him everywhere. But tonight he was back, and he wasn’t alone. Who’s this mystery babe seen entering an Athens hotspot on his arm?
Filip stared at the picture with a grave sense of foreboding. The blogger might have been speculating about the identity of Christos Rakanti’s companion, but Filip would recognise his sister anywhere. He looked at the picture closely, trying to intuit what was going on? Christos’s face was stern and unreadable; Elle’s was sweet and vulnerable. It made Filip’s chest hurt to see her with the man who was so like his father.
Ellie had a heart of gold, but she let it get her in trouble too often. And he’d bet all the money he didn’t have that she was doing just that now. And that it was all for him.
Well, two could play at that game. Elle had shielded him his whole life. And no way would he let those Rakantis use her. His expression was grim but he knew what he had to do.
And this time it was all for Elle.
6
Christos stared at the newspaper as though by sheer force of attention he might be able to rearrange the words on the page.
And to erase the pictures.
But when he blinked and returned his focus to the frontpage, the headline was still there, screaming out at him. BILLIONAIRE’S HIDDEN LOVE-CHILD.
The photo of his father had been taken years ago; he was slimmer than he’d been at the end. And Xanthe stood beside him, her smile genuine as she looked up adoringly at the man she’d loved from girlhood.
He didn’t need to read the full article. There was an insert of Filip Jr, as the papers had decided to call him, staring back at Christos. It was like looking at a mirror from his teenage years.
He sipped his coffee, but his mind was ticking.
Xanthe.
He had to protect her. His mother was a strong woman, but her whole life had revolved around her husband. His death had almost felled her. Discovering now that he had cheated on her would make her question every aspect of their marriage. He had no idea what he’d say to take that pain from her, but he’d have to work out a way to fix this. His father would have expected that of him.
He stood, making his way to his phone just as Elle appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Hi.” Her smile was tentative. Shy, even. Odd, given that they’d spent the night making love as though they would never see one another again.
And perhaps they never would.
“Why the hell did you do it?”
Elle froze, her face an excellent approximation of confusion. “Do what?”
He slammed the paper down on the table. “Go to the press. You got what you wanted. Is that it? Now that the fees are paid in full you figure there’s no reason to keep your gorgeous, talented lips sealed?”
Her face drained completely of colour as she waited for comprehension to dawn.
“Do not stand there and play the innocent. God, my father obviously knew what he was doing with you. If only I’d eked the money out to you instead, you would have had to stick to the rules we’d agreed.” He slammed his fist against the marble bench, making her jump. “I should have known better than to expect someone like you to have any kind of moral decency.”
“What are you talking about?” She wrapped her arms around her waist as she walked slowly towards the paper. “Oh my God.” She pressed her fingertips to her mouth as she studied the picture. The article was in Greek but the pictures told her everything she needed to know. “This …” Her mind, though, was racing, filling in gaps faster than she could speak.
Only Hannah knew the truth of Filip’s parentage. Bella had been bound by a confidentiality agreement. So too Elle, and she’d held to it because it was the right thing to do, not because it was a legal imperative.
Had Hannah spilled the beans? Had she done it out of a misplaced need to protect her friend? Or did someone else know? Someone on the Rakanti side?
“I want you to get out of my house.” His expression was filled with disgust. “I want to begin forgetting that I ever knew you. That I ever touched you.”
“Christos,” she whispered, her fingers shaking as she ran them over the article. She still saw them as a team; she wanted to work with him to solve this mystery. “Stop for a moment.”
But Christos had crossed over. They were not partners; there was no deal. “Get out.” He squared his shoulders and crossed his arms. “I’m sending my helicopter to bring my mother here. You are absolutely the last person I would ever subject her to meeting.”
“I didn’t … Just …”
“Do not speak to me. Get out.”
Elle searched for something to say, but until she knew just why Hannah had broken Elle’s confidence she wasn’t sure she could drop her friend in the middle of this mess.
“I believed you,” he said with disgust. “I actually believed you wouldn’t hurt my mother like this.”
She swallowed. What the hell had happened? “I would never have hurt her knowingly,” she said truthfully, sticking to the facts she knew to be the case.
“Bullshit.”
“Or my brother,” she added, her heart constricting painfully as she saw Filip Jr’s sweet face on the pages of the paper.
“Do you no longer speak English? Get out.”
“You’re being completely unreasonable,” she argued unevenly. “What reason do you have to suspect this was my doing?”
“Who else knew?” He roared.
She flinched but refused to back down. “No one. But …”
“Well then, there you have it.”
“But think about it! I wouldn’t want to hurt your mother. And I definitely don’t want my brother being upset …”
He turned his back on her. “This is over, Elle. I told you I would tire of you. Well, I have. We had a deal that you would leave without drama when I asked it of you.”
He was right. That had been their deal.
“You still want to pretend this is all about a stupid damned deal?” She demanded harshly, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
“Money. That’s what we were about. You’ve got it, so go.”
“Christos --,”
“You make me sick!”
Elle could no longer argue with him. His vile hatred was like a gun aimed straight at her heart. She spun and ran from the room, her body wracked with silent sobs as she took the stairs two at a time. She packed as quickly as her shaking hands would allow, stuffing her clothes into the bag she’d arrived with. She left the dress he’d bought on the bed. She’d told him, once, that she wouldn’t accept a penny from him.
And she meant it.
Beyond Filip’s education, she didn’t want to feel a single inch of debt to this man.
Especially not now. She carried her suitcase down the steps in a state of shock. How could he be so unreasonable? How could he think so badly of her?
“A taxi is on its way. Wait outside.”
He wouldn’t even look at her. It was that which angered her most.
“Damn you,” she placed the suitcase on the floor and stormed over to him, standing in his line of sight. He looked through her as though she were glass. “You know me,” she said throatily. “Don’t you think I deserve …”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know what I think you deserve.” His expression was grim as finally he bore his eyes into hers. “In this moment, what I feel, you would struggle to stand if I said what I really feel for you.”
“Tell me,” she interrupted fiercely. “Say what you’re thinking.”
He tilted his head back and laughed angrily. “Fine. I’m thinking that you
’re exactly what I first thought. You’re a stupid whore, with nothing to offer a man beyond your body. I’m thinking you have some bad karma coming your way and that it will catch up with you and that I look forward to hearing about it once it has. I’m thinking that I regret I ever met you, but that at least I have the satisfaction of knowing you meant nothing to me. That you were nice to sleep with when I was in the mood, but that beyond that you bored me and I’m glad I have a reason to get rid of you without guilt. Shall I go on, with what I think of you?”
Her heart wasn’t broken. It was dead. It was non-existent. She felt bile rise in her throat and she wondered, distractedly, if she was about to vomit at his feet. There would be a nice sense of karma to that, she thought. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her stoicism, even in the midst of his fury, pushing a begrudging shred of admiration through him.
“Get. Out.”
She nodded and walked away, her spine ramrod straight. He didn’t watch her once she reached the door. He focussed his attention squarely on the newspaper and wondered just how the hell he could clean this mess up.
From the absurdly glamorous to the financial strapped in the blink of an eye. By the time Elle had paid the ludicrous cab fare to the airport and booked a last minute ticket to New York, she calculated that she’d have about forty dollars to last her until she could pick up some shifts and get her first pay cheque.
It was helpful to have something so mundane to worry about as money for it allowed her to push Christos Rakanti to the recesses of her mind.
Besides. Once she landed, she knew she would need to see Filip. She texted him as soon as her plane touched down, while it was still taxiing. “Filip, are you okay?”
“Yes.” His text came straight back. “I’m at home.”
“Good. I’ll be there soon.” She typed impatiently. But there was nothing fast nor efficient about flying. It took almost two hours to clear customs and security and to finally make her way to the small apartment they shared above a sinfully-tempting bakery.
Not even the thought of the most delicious raisin scones could entice a smile to her face. She was numb.
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