by Nikki Ash
And Talia?
I stop pacing and retrieve my phone. She’s tried to call me. I’m reminded of the way she held my hand at dinner. Hearing her voice might bring me some peace at the moment. I sure as fuck need it.
I dial her back.
It rings and rings and rings.
Did she leave? She better fucking not have.
I’ll drag her back kicking and screaming.
She’s mine.
“Mr. Demetriou,” a doctor calls out, rushing over to me. “I have good news. He’s stable. Your father is going to live.”
I let out a heavy sigh of relief. “I want to see him. Now.”
Talia
With nothing but a towel wrapped around my body, I run home. My bare feet trip and stumble over the rocks that have been kicked up onto the pathway, but I don’t stop until I’m standing outside my door. With shaky hands, it takes me four tries to get the code right so the door will unlock. The house is pitch-black, and I breathe a sigh of relief that Kostas isn’t here.
My first thought is that I need to get him off of me. Rid myself of the evidence of what he did. Turning the shower on, I set it to as hot as it can go. I drop the towel and step inside, the steam hitting my senses and allowing me to take my first deep breath. For several minutes I just stand here. I’m not sure if I’m in shock, but I can’t find it in me to move. And then I remember why I’m in here. To rid myself of him.
With my mind and body completely numb, I work the soapy loofah over my flesh. Scrubbing. Cleaning. Getting him off me. I scrub my face where he kissed me. My neck where he bit me. I scrub my arms and legs where he grabbed me. But it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I scrub and scrub and scrub, but I can still feel him on me, over me, in me.
When I spread my legs and wipe between my thighs, the loofah turns a light shade of pink. And it’s then the reality of what he did to me hits me full force. My already shaky hands begin to tremble, and my knees go weak. My body gives out, and I fall into a heap on the floor of the shower as grief pours down my face in a flood of uncontrollable tears that mix with the pink water. I watch as my blood and tears run down into the drain and disappear, reminding me that only a couple short hours ago I was in the shower with him. Trying to comfort him. Washing the blood off him.
How could he do this to me?
He took something from me I can never get back.
Something that wasn’t his to take.
It was mine. Mine to give. Mine to share.
And now it’s gone, and it feels as though a part of me is gone as well.
I scrub my body until my skin is bright red and hurts to touch. Until the water turns ice-cold and runs clear once again. Until I have no choice but to get out and deal with what he did to me.
Feeling exposed and wanting to hide my body—as if hiding it will make what he did to me any less real—I find a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and throw them on. When I go back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I spot the towel on the floor. Needing to get rid of it, to get rid of the evidence, I scoop it up and bring it into the bedroom with me. I light the fireplace, not caring that it’s nowhere near cold enough to justify having a fire going, and when the room dances with bright reds and oranges, I throw it into the fire. Grabbing the blanket off the bed, I wrap it around my body like a cocoon, then I lie down in front of the fire and watch the fabric burn, until my eyelids can no longer stay open, and I allow myself to shut down.
Kostas
I’ve watched her sleep fitfully for fuck knows how long now. Hours maybe. Sometime during the early morning hours when the moon was still out, I left the hospital and came home intent on crashing. The events have worn me the hell out. But finding Talia looking so broken and fragile gave me pause. A frozen sliver in time where everything stilled and elusive peace washed over me.
I don’t move.
I don’t speak.
I don’t do a damn thing except stare at her sleeping form as I sit on the edge of the bed. Her silky blond hair has dried into messy waves and her plump lips pout out as though her dreams are horrible. For her, they probably are. She was dragged into Greece’s most ruthless family and forced into a marriage with a monster.
Monsters aren’t always as horrible as they seem.
One day, maybe she’ll see that.
Like Mamá did?
The thought hollows me out. My mother clearly put on a show for all of us. A show Father was a star in. I feel betrayed by them both. For my mother stepping out on my father, and for him playing this fucked up game with our lives as payback.
Would Talia eventually come to love me like I thought my mother did my father, or will she feel like she’s trapped with a monster, always seeking for a chance to escape?
Irritation churns in my gut.
My instinct is to drag Talia up by her hair, force her to look deep into my eyes, and explain to her that if she even thinks about pulling a stunt like my mother, I’ll destroy her in every way possible. The monstrous beast inside me begs to do just that, fueled on betrayal.
But all it takes is a little whimper in her sleep to have me backtracking.
Talia isn’t my mom.
And I’m not my dad.
I scrub my palm down my face and let out a huff. I’m still marrying her because that’s clearly the play destiny has set for us. It’s something my parents and her parents paved the way for. Sure, it was done to us as some sort of punishment, but it doesn’t mean we can’t take control from here.
Rising from the bed, I make my way over to her and kneel. My fingernails are still caked with my father’s blood and a shower is long overdue. But as the sun peeks in through the windows, signaling the start of a new day, I can’t help but take action.
Take what’s mine.
“Morning,” I say, my voice rough from leftover emotion and lack of sleep. “Talia, wake up.”
She jolts, a scream of terror ripping from her lips, as she tries to scramble away. I grab her shoulders and pin her down on her back.
“Calm down,” I growl. “It’s me.”
Her lashes flutter and then a mixture of relief and worry swims in her sleepy blue eyes that are bloodshot. “Kostas,” she croaks. “You’re home.”
Something about the way she says home has my chest tightening in response. “I am. We need to shower and get ready. I have a big day planned for us.”
She furrows her brows together as she studies me. “Are we going to the hospital?”
“No, moró mou, we’re getting married. Remember?”
“W-What?” she screeches, sitting up and looking around frantically. “We can’t. Your mom just died and your dad is in the hospital. And my parents…” She trails off, more worry flashing in her eyes.
“Your parents what?”
“I sent them away,” she breathes.
Smart girl. There’s no telling what I’d do to Melody if I saw her right now.
“It’ll be better as a private affair.” I rise and walk toward my bathroom, shedding soiled clothes along the way. I’ve just turned on the shower when I sense her nearby.
“Kostas,” she whispers, her hand touching my bare back. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I swivel around to look at her. Genuine concern gleams in her eyes. Her chin is lifted, and even in her disheveled state, she’s beautiful. And mine. Soon, in the eyes of God and the law, legally mine.
“It was always the plan,” I remind her, tucking a blond strand behind her ear.
She trembles visibly and curls her arms around her waist. A pitiful look crumples her pretty face. I really am a monster to her. A prison sentence. Torture. I grip her wrist—the hand that wears my ring shining brilliantly—and bring her palm to my bare chest where my heart thunders.
“Feel this?” I rumble, searing my gaze into hers. “This thinks it’s a good idea.”
Her eyes well with tears, and her bottom lip trembles. “But…”
I lean forward and kiss her soft lips. “There are no buts, Tali
a. Just the plan. Follow the plan.”
A tear snakes down her cheek, making my heart pound harder. Everything in me screams to strip her down and tug her into the shower with me so I can give her a preview of exactly how good of a plan this is. But the utter fear on her face is enough to have me pulling back.
“Go eat some breakfast,” I grunt out as I unbuckle my slacks. “We’ll leave in an hour.”
She bolts from my presence before I even get the words out of my mouth.
As we drive to the church, I expect Talia to argue, or ask me to check on my brother, or beg me not to make her go through with this marriage, but she doesn’t. After my shower, she quickly took her own. Then, she fixed her hair and put on makeup before donning a simple, silky white dress I laid out for her. She’s being ridiculously compliant, which makes me feel uneasy.
I’d thought about calling Aris, but I know how he is. He was a momma’s boy. If I know him, he’s gotten wasted, cried his eyes out, and fucked his way into oblivion. His villa is probably destroyed due to one of his tantrums. And with time, he’ll get better. I’m not the person to help him out of his sea of grief. I’m treading water as it is. Thank fuck I have Talia as a lifeline, breathing fresh, healing water into me with every breath I take.
She’s quiet when we arrive and doesn’t pull away when I take her hand before walking inside. I’d called ahead to tell the priest it’d be a private wedding with just the bride and groom. I’m sure news has spread about my mother and he wisely didn’t ask. I simply instructed him to be ready for us, not wanting to waste another minute.
Father Nicholas greets us once we’re inside the empty cathedral that’s already been decorated. Talia’s heels clack along the marble floors as we follow him down the center aisle to the altar. Once up front, I take both her hands while Father Nicholas flips through his Bible.
“Ready?” I ask Talia.
A line between her brows deepens. “Not really.”
I rub my thumbs over the backs of her hands. “Too bad.”
Her nostrils flare, giving me a preview of the fiery woman she can be when she’s not overcome by fear of her situation. One day, I’ll pull her from her fear that has its steely hold on her, and into my arms, where she can be herself all the time.
One day.
“Okay,” Father Nicholas chirps. “And so let us begin…”
As he recites verses from the Bible, I admire Talia’s pretty features. Wide, brilliant blue eyes that say so much all at once. A petite, slightly upturned nose that begs to be kissed. It’s her lips, though, that always steal the show. Full, naturally dark pink, glistening and parted as though she’s desperate to be kissed.
I’m going to kiss you a lot, moró mou.
“Talia,” Father Nicholas gently urges. “Here’s where you state your vows.”
Her eyes widen as she gapes at me. “I didn’t know we were writing vows.”
“It’s okay,” Father Nicholas says. “Repeat after me.”
As he recites words from the Bible that Talia breathlessly repeats, her cheeks blaze red. Shame. I think she might be embarrassed that she didn’t come up with her own vows. Not that I expected her to. She’s made it clear she thinks this wedding is a sham. I don’t hold her responsible for thinking that way. When they finish, I clear my throat.
“Talia, you were born to be a Demetriou. Fate knew it, I know it, and one day you’ll know it, too. Too many things over the past decade have happened to lead to this exact moment for us to believe otherwise. At this point, we not only must accept it, but we must embrace it.” I pin her with a fierce look that I hope she can feel down to her pretty toes. “I, Kostas Angelo Demetriou, vow to protect you always from yourself, from others, and from me. When you take my name, you take a part of me, and I will treat you as though you are a valued piece of me. The truth you’ll come to learn is that I am yours now as much as you are mine. I vow to learn every part of you in hope you’ll want to learn every part of me. If you ever lose your way, I vow to find you and guide you back to a place where we can be truly happy. By taking my ring and my name, you’re taking me too. We’re bound in more ways than either of us can count. For me, it will be until death. And I vow to never let you go, even then.”
Tears slide down her red cheeks as she regards me with a mixture of confusion and worry. It makes me want to lick the tears right from her face and vow to her what I’ll do to make her scream a little later on. But, alas, Father completes the ceremony by asking us to exchange rings. She seems surprised when he hands her my titanium band that says Demetriou carved along the outside of the band. Inside, it has our initials and today’s date. Once she shakily slips my ring on my finger, I place a platinum one beside her massive diamond. Her ring, too, has the same inscriptions.
“By the powers vested in me and God, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Kostas Demetriou.” He smiles at me. “You may now kiss your lovely bride.”
Sliding my hands into her silky hair, I grip her and tilt her head back. Her lips part and a gasp escapes her. I brush my lips across hers in a warning kiss a second before I sear her with a claiming kiss. My tongue slides out to lash with hers. Eagerly, I devour her sweet moan of surprise. We kiss with me owning every breath and mewl until I decide we’ve given this old man enough of a show for today. Besides, I want to spend the entire day with my wife, making her whimper in other ways.
“Come now, wife, it’s time to go home.”
I hang up with room service and track Talia as she exits the bathroom. Like a good wife, she obeyed me when I told her to put on her swimsuit. Since the wedding, she’s not spoken a word to me. It’s like she’s shut down and closed me out.
Time to open up, zoí mou. My life.
While she looks out the window, I quickly change into some swim trunks and then walk over to the door in my room. I open it and grab her hand before guiding her out the back of the villa, to the secluded pool. In one corner of my private yard, beside the outdoor expandable daybed, a man from the hotel staff is setting up a small table with a pitcher of ice water. I give him a nod of my head before walking Talia over to it. The daybed is shaded from the bright sun with a white canopy.
“Thirsty?” I ask, nodding to the pitcher. “They’re bringing out food and some proper drinks soon.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
But she’s not fine. The poor girl is shaking like a leaf despite the hot sun blazing down on us. I take her hand again and guide her to the stairs of the pool.
“What are we doing?” she bites out.
“We’re going swimming.”
“Obviously. But what are we doing? I thought…you know…”
I step in the cool water and cock my head at her. “That we’d get right to the fucking?”
She scowls at me. “You’re an asshole.”
“You married me.”
Before she can huff and puff any more, I grip her hips and pull her back with me into the chilly water. She screeches, her hands going to my shoulders as though she can climb on top of me to keep from getting wet. A laugh rumbles from me as I dunk us both. When we reemerge, she sputters and gives me the worst go to hell look, which only makes me laugh more.
“What?” I ask innocently. “I prefer a little foreplay before I bed a woman.”
“You’re disgusting.”
I grip her ass in a hard, punishing way as I urge her to wrap her legs around me. Fear once again contorts her features. But, with firm urging, I manage to get her to lock onto me. She’s tense and her fingernails dig slightly into my shoulders.
“Relax,” I croon, walking her to the edge of the pool. “You don’t have to hold on so tight. I won’t let you go.”
She rolls her eyes, but my taunting her seems to have her losing some of her tension. Once I don’t think she’ll take off, I gently massage her ass.
“Kostas,” she mutters. “What are we doing?” she asks again.
I lift a brow as my gaze travels to her pouty mouth, then give her the
same answer I already gave her. “Swimming.”
“But why?” she demands. “Your mom…your dad… You have a funeral to plan.”
Gritting my teeth, I look past her to where another hotel staff member walks over with a tray of food and begins setting it on our table. “I’m trying to enjoy the moment.”
Her wet palm slides to my face as she turns my attention back to her. “It won’t make what happened go away.”
“No,” I agree, stepping closer so that she can feel my erection pressed against her. “But it can freeze time and give me a fucking break.”
My harsh words make her flinch. “I’m scared,” she whimpers. “I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”
I press my lips to hers, kissing her softly and in a teasing way. “I’ll make it feel good.”
She opens her mouth to accept my demanding kiss. I gently grind against her cunt, wanting to tease her in every possible way. A whimper travels through her, more fear than excitement. With a sigh, I pull away and carry her out of the pool. She frowns at me the entire walk over to the daybed. I set her to her feet and then drape a large towel over her.
“Sit,” I command.
She rolls her eyes at me but curls up on the daybed. I fill up a plate with meats and olives and cheeses and crackers before handing it to her. Then, I wrap a towel around me and grab another plate. She scoots over and gives me room to sit. A warm breeze tickles around us as we eat in silence.
“I meant what I vowed,” I tell her when I finish up my food and set the plate down.
She frowns and hands me her plate. “Why, though?”
“Because marriage, to me, isn’t what they told me it had to be.” I know I sound like a pouting schoolboy, but I don’t care. I make my own destiny, not my father. Not Niles. Me.
A hotel staffer walks over to us with a chilled bottle of chardonnay. He pours us a couple of glasses. I instruct him to bring something a little more stout. I’m going to need it to get through today. After handing Talia her glass, I clink mine to hers.