"Maybe you're not such a fuckup after all, Niko," he says, taking another drag from his cigar. "Invite her to the Gala. She's the mother of my grandchild after all. There we can make arrangements to, well, discuss how to proceed. I'm dying to speak with her now."
Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door. Diego enters. "Mr. Laius is here for his appointment, sir."
Stavros nods. "Tell him I'll be right there." He turns back to me as the man disappears. "We're done here, Niko."
This feels too easy. Why isn't he pissed?
But as I consider it, I see potential. A room full of powerful people. A chance to control the narrative. To introduce her, let everyone know she's mine. Keep Calli safe under watchful eyes.
I give a cautious nod. "Alright. We'll come." Not that he was expecting me to answer his request.
Stavros stands. "I'll tell my assistant to add two names to the guest list." He takes another drag of his cigar and presses it into the ashtray.
"See you in a few weeks."
His smile hardens into something unreadable.
"Don't be late. It's going to be a memorable night."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone in the library with the lingering scent of tobacco.
I take one last look around the room—at the walls lined with books that were chosen for their impressive spines rather than their content, at the portraits of dead Petrous whose eyes seem to follow my movement.
Something about his smile felt wrong. Too satisfied. Too knowing.
I walk out of the library, through the halls of my childhood prison, past the staff who bow their heads as I pass. The afternoon light seems harsher now, throwing everything into sharp relief.
Maybe this was the wrong call. But if it buys us time, I'll take it. I'll protect her. No matter what.
As I reach my car, I take one last look at the house. He promised it would be a memorable night, but if he does anything stupid, it'll be memorable for reasons that he'll never see coming.
31
CALLI
My fingers tap against the granite kitchen counter as I check my phone for the tenth time in five minutes. Keira promised they'd be here by now.
Ugh, where the hell are they?
My stomach churns with a mixture of nerves and morning sickness that hasn't quite decided to leave me alone yet.
The sound of a car engine outside snaps my attention to the window. A sleek black Escalade pulls up the driveway of my little house on the Kastaris estate.
Finally.
I swing open the front door before they've even killed the engine. Keira jumps out of the passenger side, looking radiant in her ripped jeans and leather jacket, her fire-red hair tied back in a messy bun.
I then watch as Declan emerges from the driver's side.
Standing six-foot-four, his black hair is tousled from the wind. He's wearing dark jeans, boots, and a simple black T-shirt thatshows off the lean muscle and broad shoulders. He looks more like a fighter than a mafia heir, mainly because he is one. Amateur boxing, mostly for fun. But I've seen him take down a guy twice his size in three moves.
As a matter of fact, it was him who I thought about when I wanted to learn how to defend myself, and even though I haven't done much training since all this went down, it's nice to know I could at least throw a few punches.
"Miss me?" Keira says, hugging me.
"Of course," I say. "You always look so pretty, you know."
She smiles and walks in. I turn to Declan.