Page 8 of Power

I was far from the innocent figure they imagined. Suppressing my conscience during those initial, grueling years allowed me to act without a second thought, decisive and unyielding.

Over time, the legacy of my family not only stabilized but flourished.

Although my reputation suffered, I couldn’t care less.

Being known as ruthless, cold, and unfeeling became anasset. It instilled a sense of caution in others, making them think twice before daring to oppose me. My reputation and the fear it inspired effectively filtered out the weakest among my rivals.

All of this held true until today. The last thing I wanted was for Calista Vitalis to perceive me with fear.

As I stepped out into the crisp air and approached my waiting car, I thought about how to ease her worries over lunch.

While the idea of bringing her comfort filled me with determination, a deep anger churned in my heart for all she’d endured.

I thought of my nieces’ bright, hopeful faces, now lost to time. If they had survived, they would be teetering on the edge of youth. The thought of them facing similar harsh challenges to Calista’s sent a chill down my spine. No woman deserved to bear such cruel burdens.

As the busy streets of Thessaloniki unfolded before me, the cityscape gave way to a breathtaking vista.

The sparkling surface of the Thermaic Gulf unveiled itself, its clear turquoise expanse stretching toward the horizon on a day that promised brilliance.

I pushed aside the distressing images in my mind, resolute in viewing Calista Vitalis not merely as a victim of her history, but as the complete individual standing before me, unmarked by past wounds.

I made a quiet promise to myself to view her solely in the light she presented, rather than through the lens of shared losses and trauma.

I had no desire for her to see me as merely a man defined by sorrow.

Today, I aimed to treat her with nothing less than genuine respect and sincere courtesy.

A few moments later, I entered the grand lobby of the Electra Palace Hotel. I ascended toward the Orizontes Roof Garden, the rooftop restaurant where our meeting was set. Below, Aristotelous Square pulsed with life, while the expansive gulf unfurled like a boundless tapestry behind it.

Amid this splendor, my attention was irresistibly drawn to the imposing sight of armed, sturdy men encircling Calista. In one secluded section of the restaurant, deep maroon velvet ropes demarcated her space and that of her dedicated team.

I recalled from my research that Calista was rarely without a small security detail, yet the scale of protection now surpassed anything I had learned just weeks ago.

It was evident she guarded herself with a seriousness born of past betrayals or looming threats.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this bolstered security was a reaction to a known danger or simply a reflection of her impassioned instinct for self-preservation.

Perhaps she suspected that my reputation alone might warrant caution even as I approached. After all, anyone stepping forward into an unknown meeting might feel compelled to ensure their safety.

In my case, I had arrived on my own, without an entourage.

It was evident that Calista posed no danger to me, and Ihoped that, in time, she would see that I was not a threat to her either.

My gaze swept over the crowd, navigating through the sea of broad shoulders and wide stances surrounding her.

When I saw her, I gasped, utterly astonished. Her beauty was not just striking. It was captivating and mesmerizing, compelling you to look away with effort.

The Vitalis sisters were renowned for their extraordinary allure, a part of the lore that enveloped their family.

The photographs I had seen had done her no justice.

She was turned away, granting me the opportunity to admire her without restraint. The sunlight poured over her delicate features, highlighting the ethereal quality of her presence.

She was petite, with a bird-like grace. Her full lips curled upward, a soft smile resting casually yet elegantly on her face. Her high cheekbones were accentuated by the gentle waves of her long blond hair, which cascaded over her small shoulders and glittered under the sun’s bright rays.

At first glance, she appeared younger than twenty-two, a fact that had been my initial concern when I was asked to meet her. I was only six years her senior, but I knew those years were significant in shaping one’s character and experience.

Then, as Calista turned her focus toward me, I experienced the powerful effect of her fiery green gaze as it locked onto mine with surprising intensity.

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