Page 105 of Beyond Enemy Vows
A guard nods as I pass, recognizing me but not questioning my presence. That's the advantage of being Stavros's son: access without suspicion.
Tomorrow, that advantage becomes my opportunity.
The kitchen house sits next to the main ballroom mansion, connected by a covered walkway lined with bougainvillea arches. I slip inside through the staff entrance.
Inside, the industrial kitchen gleams with stainless steel and polished marble. A few night staff move around, too busy to pay me much attention.
"Mr. Petrou," one of the kitchen managers nods respectfully, stepping out from an office.
"Just checking the preparations," I reply smoothly. "My father wants everything perfect."
The man nods again and returns to his work, leaving me to move freely through the space.
I make my way to the far corner where a small cleaning room is located. Inside is a shelf with supplies and a deep sink, below it a cabinet. I look over my shoulder to ensure I'm alone. I kneel down and slide the cabinet door open.
From inside my jacket, I pull out a small silenced pistol. I wrap it in a towel and tape it to the underside of the sink, between it and the wall.
This gun is backup. Insurance. If things go sideways and I need to get away fast, I have something.
I shuffle the cleaning supplies back in place so it looks undisturbed and leave.
My destination is the largest study on the second floor of the mansion next door, where my father will host his meetings, including asking to meet Calli and me privately.
I step into the study and close the door behind me. It's dark, but I don't turn on the light. Instead, I pull out my phone and turn on my flashlight.
I glance around and see the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A massive mahogany desk. Persian rugs. A fully stocked bar cart and chairs positioned in a half circle in the middle of the room.
It's nice. I remember it from last year's gala, and I also remember the room had an old-school ventilation grate near the window. That's of interest to me now.
It's positioned at knee height, and I bend down to remove the decorative grate and place another gun, this one larger, with more stopping power, inside the duct, securing it with tape.
When the moment comes, and it will come, this is where I'll make my stand. This is the one I think I'll use.
I replace the vent cover, adjusting it to ensure it looks like it did before I stepped in here.
I don't trust this will go cleanly. Best-case scenario, I get a moment alone with my father, pull the trigger, and escape through the window. There's a balcony, twelve feet down. Risky, but I can do it. By the time anyone notices him, I'll be back on the dance floor with Calli, drink in hand. My alibi sealed. My face unreadable.
I leave quietly, and as I walk back through the grounds, playing the part of dutiful son conducting security checks, I think about how Stavros was always going to die at the hands of someone he underestimated.
Maybe that's why he's so reactive, but he knows it too.
I remember summers when I was a kid, back when he and Vasilis Kastaris used to pretend they were friends. Genuine friends, it seemed.
Our families would sit by the sea, grill lamb until sunset, talk about legacy, about sons. I watched Calli and her brothers race barefoot on the beach. Back then, it felt like something good could grow between our families.
But Stavros wanted more. Power was his only addiction, and there was never enough of it to satisfy him.
I remember the shift. When the first comments about the Kastaris family came flowing freely from his mouth. Envy ate away at him until he snapped.
He hated how respected Vasilis was, questioned his relationship with the Bonventi family. How the Kastaris family was able to thrive in Chicago and establish such a solid foothold in American markets.
While Stavros ruled through fear, Vasilis commanded loyalty. While Stavros grasped for more territory, Vasilis cultivated profitable relationships.
My father wanted everything, and then wanted more. Vasilis tried to build an empire. Stavros only thought about stealing it from underneath him
He killed a business friend. For leverage. For a chance to seize what he felt he deserved.
And he'll try to do it again if I let him. This time, with Calli.
