Page 45 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

It was the Akakios way.

“Well, thisboyfollowed his father’s example. I was cruel and manipulative with my mother. Just as I was well into my twenties, I followed his orders, danced to his puppet strings, and thought we were both right and clever andgood, while she was wrong and someone to be pitied at best.”

He did not look at her as he said any of this. He was staring out the window, something bleak and sad on his handsome face. Enough sadness to make sympathy twist deep inside of her where it didn’t belong.

Then he whirled on her, suddenly and with a snapping anger.

“Would you like to know when that changed for me?” he demanded, eyes blazing. There was something about that question that felt like a threat.

So she shook her head. “No.”

“I did not think so.” He gave a bitter laugh that made her feel uneasy. With herself. With her understanding of everything—most especially him. But then he sighed. “I suppose since I’m staying put, I shall go for a swim. Please send someone to fetch me should Ophelia arrive.” Then he strode out of the room.

Lynna let out a slow breath of relief, mostly. Because he was staying. Just as she’d wanted him to. As his PR manager hadwantedhim to. The smart thing—it really had nothing to do with her.

Yet she couldn’t help but think she had solved that problem for him. If she hadn’t been here, he would have gone into the office. Which was no doubt what Constantine wanted—another confrontation.

But Lynna had convinced him to stay.

And that meant far more than she could let it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WhenOpheliaarrived, Athan had already swum until his muscles screamed. He could barely lift himself out of the pool. Then he sat there, dripping water while she told him every last piece of information from the article.

Against his wishes.

It was truths mixed with lies, and all of it continued to be a tarnish on his reputation. All of it made it harder for anyone who might have a soft spot for the Carews to follow him—not just because they might believe the stories that he was violent and betrayal personified, but because they also might be concerned that Constantine’s retaliation to any defection would be stories about each of them.

No doubt Constantine knew all their secrets.

“I cannot avoid my work, my office simply because of this,” Athan told Ophelia, gesturing at the tablet she read from.

“No. But when you do go into the office, it must be with calm. With a plan. All of these stories, Constantine’s little wars against you, they are meant to get under your skin. And then, once he has, prove every single one of them a fact.”

Athan was well aware. That night in his library had been an obvious indication of that, and yet… He was struggling to find that clear, determined detachment.

His mother had essentially called him a monster in the press, and maybe he was. No, there was no maybe. Hehadbeen. He had tried to make amends these past few years, but he supposed this was evidence that it did not matter.

What was done was done. There was no fixing all the lives he’d hurt. And that overwhelming realization that there was nothing to be done about it, that these years of trying tofixit were pointless and worthless made it feel impossible to act, to move.

“Mr. Akakios?” He could hear the slight concern in Ophelia’s tone, and he almost laughed. That his dogged PR manager would suddenly have concern for him must have meant he was truly in bad shape.

He inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, trying to hold on to a course of action. He needed to get into work, nothing changed that, but…

He heard a door slide open and glanced over, sure it would be another staff member to deliver some new blow. But it was Lynna.

She had changed into dark slacks, a button-up shirt the color of sunshine. Her hair was pulled back into a simple twist, and she looked…office ready.

“I am going to go into the office with you.” She looked him up and down. “I suppose you’ll want to be clothed first, though.”

“Why would you go with me?” he asked, truly confused.

“The point of this entire endeavor is to win over anyone who might still be loyal to my father over Constantine. They have seen me at dinners, at the ball, but they have not seen me in the same place my father once worked. They should, and what better time than now? To prove I don’t believe these stories.”

He turned to look at her, all prim and determined. Strength personified, but… “Do you not believe them?”

Something flitted in and out of her expression too quickly to analyze. “You are capable of many terrible things, Athan,” she said firmly, “but I take exception to your parents, who are clearly not above reproach, trying to tear you down like this. It is wrong, so we’ll do what we can do to right it. I’ll come with you, make the rounds for a little bit. Then, tonight, we’ll have dinner with the Aritis as planned. Does this suit, Ophelia?”

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