Page 22 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

His father’s love.

But it never lasted because whatever task he’d do for his father was never quite enough. And still Constantine kept that carrot of affection right there, within reach, only to slide it through his grasp. Time and time again.

Until Athan had finally grown the hell up. Until he had learned that there was norelationshipto be had here. They were adversaries. Now and forever.

At best.

“Concerns?” Athan repeated, feigning ignorance.

“The pictures of the wedding hit the papers the night of the wedding because apparently you are not sharp enough to keep these things under wraps.”

Athan pretended to consider this. Then he shrugged. “That’s one interpretation.”

“It ismyinterpretation, and thusfact,” Constantine said, with a snap to his tone. But he tempered it with a smile. “You’re fumbling, son. Let me take care of this for you.”

“You know, I was affronted, obviously, at you and Regina plotting against me, when it would have been easier for all involved to just be direct. But Lynna was there, and it reminded me that I do not have to play these…silly parlor games you love so much.”

Constantine’s gentle expression sharpened. “Parlor games?”

Athan waved a hand. “Stealing fiancées, pitting people against one another, framing others, skimming a little off the top here and there just for the thrill.” Athan sighed heavily as if it all exhausted him.

“Are you accusing me of something?” Constantine demanded.

“Of course not,” Athan assured him, trying to maintain a wounded expression when what he wanted to do was grin. “I’m simply explaining to you that we’re different. You appreciate a puppet on a string,Father, and I do not. It’s best, surely, if instead of helping me, instead of…how did you put it, not leaving me to the wolves? Let’s cut the apron and puppet strings. If I get eaten, so be it.”

Constantine’s expression was nothing but rage now, but he was breathing carefully. Keeping the explosion inside.

Still, Athan thought he knew how to break his father. And if he could, he had an even larger upper hand.

“Oh, you’re worried how this will all reflect uponyou.” Athan shook his head sadly. “And here I thought you were confident enough to stand in your own legacy.”

Constantine was across the room in an instant. Violence flashed in his dark eyes, but he did not touch Athan. He clenched his fists at his sides, looked up at his son.

“All these years I’ve let you fail and fail again. I have saved you from embarrassment. I have been the only thing keeping you from ruin. Now you will fail. Largely. Spectacularly. Publicly. I’m sure the Carew girl will enjoy once again watching her meal ticket crumble into a useless bitter husk.”

It was an impressive speech. It was meant to embarrass him, infantilize him,destroyany last shred of confidence he might have. And it likely would have worked if Athan hadn’t spent his formative years at his father’s knee, learning his views on business and dealing with people.

Dad only sought to undercut that which was actually a threat. Which meant Athan’s marriage to Lynna had rattled the mighty Constantine Akakios.

Which meant his was a plan that could work. And while he’d alreadyknownthat, it was nice to have his father assure him of this.

“Father, I cannot fathom why you’d be so emotional.” Athan went so far as to cluck his tongue. His father’s face began to edge toward purple. “Why don’t you go on home to my, I mean,yourfiancée and rest? Please, I give you permission to continue your plans to oust me. And free you of any worry about how I land—on my feet or otherwise.”

“People will see through this farce, Athan. I take no joy in ending you, but if it must be done, I will do it. I will ruin you. Once and for all. This is your final chance to be saved.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lynnacouldn’tsleep. A new place. A new life. So many doubts circling in her head and, worst of all, the low, distracting rumble of Athan’s voice playing over and over in her head.

Do you need to hear me say it plain?

She hadn’t let him actually say much of anything. But she had spent too much time in the days since imagining what hemightsay plain. What it might feel like to kiss him again. To lose herself in something…

Wrong. Wrong. He is your sworn enemy.

She was just hungry. That’s what was causing these ridiculous thoughts. She needed a sweet treat. There had been some options in the kitchen. Maybe she could even put together a sundae. It wouldn’t be as good as her usual ones since there were no homemade brownies or chocolate sauce on hand, but it would do in a pinch.

She got out of bed. She didn’tthinkshe’d see Athan, or anyone else, but she grabbed a robe all the same. It was easier than changing out of the somewhat revealing pajamas. Because all she was going to do was grab a dessert. She’d even bring it back to her room to eat it.

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