He shrugs. “I’m not bothered. I’d rather move in here than leave my nephew in the hands of that sociopath. I didn’t like the woman, and neither did Joseph. And I trust his opinion.”

“Prepare yourself. In a short time you’ll be the one taking care of a child,” I mock, referring to the agreement he and Zeus made, in which Ares will become the legal guardian of an heiress. We needed the shares from the fund the girl inherited, and that was the condition imposed by her former guardian to complete the sale.

His mood changes instantly. “I still have some time before my torture begins. Besides, I intend to keep her at a distance. I’m not a babysitter, and she’s not a little girl.”

“I don’t envy the role. I would prefer triplets to a teenager.”

“Enough about me. I want to know everything about this hit-and-run story. I don’t believe in coincidences. Unless the girl is suicidal, there’s no way she simply didn’t see the car.”

Oh, shit!Why, out of three brothers, didn’t God give me at least one who isn’t a suspicious bastard?

Because that’s a family trait, a voice in my head quips.They wouldn’t hold the name Kostanidis if they didn’t doubt their own shadows.

Cecily

CHAPTER SIX

I heardthe doctor saying he would give me a sleeping pill. If he did, it didn’t help. I spent the night awake trying to come to grips with the fact that it really happened, that it wasn’t a dream.

I came to Manhattan and did the crazy thing—getting in front of Mr. Dionysus’s car. More than that, I got him to get closer to me. In fact, hetouchedme.

It’s the last thing I remember before passing out. Afterwards, I remember the doctors examining me at the hospital, asking if I was in pain and making me repeat the number of fingers they were holding in front of my face.

Nothing about me feels really hurt, and I’m starting to believe that thing about actually having nine lives.

They took my blood and did imaging tests. I also remember that they put me in some kind of tube to do a CT scan and that I panicked, as I have claustrophobia. Maybe that was why the doctor thought he needed to give me a tranquilizer.

I would like one right now. No, actually, I want a whole bottle because I’m really nervous.

The nurse came in a little while ago to tell me that Mr. Dionysus is coming to visit me.

In all the times I’ve imagined our meeting, it certainly wasn’t dressed in a nightgown that leaves my butt exposed, much less lying in a hospital bed.

I run my hands, wet with cold sweat, across the sheets, telling myself I’m not scared. They couldn’t have noticed that I threw myself in front of the car, could they?

No, Cici, they don’t know anything.

So why, when the doctor came to examine me this morning, did he say that even though I was fine, I would have to wait for Mr. Kostanidis to come see me?

That’s exactly what I wanted: to find a way to get his attention so we could talk. Of course, I never thought about having to try to kill myself outright, but I didn’t see any other way.

I’ll never be able to get him to listen to me.

Oh, God, it’s not going to work.

Calm down. Don’t be afraid. Even if he discovers thatyou threw yourself in front of the car, he’s not going to kill you. After all, he’s a civilized man with a lot to lose.

So why does he wanna see me?

Jesus, I’m going to be sick. Anxiety is driving me crazy.

“May I come in?” a man asks as he turns the door handle without letting me see him yet.

I breathe, immediately relieved. It’s not the powerful Greek. The voice that just spoke to me, in addition to the tone seeming to belong to someone older, sounds insecure. I could bet my life that there isn’t a bone in Dionysus Kostanidis’ body that isn’t self-confident, so he’s not the one who’s here.

“Maybe. Yes. Who is it?”

A man appears in my field of vision. He must be around sixty years old, and his face, despite looking friendly, showsapprehension. “My name is Anderson Colt, Miss Bradley, and I’m Mr. Dionysus Kostanidis’ driver.”