Page 16 of Slightly Married
The sound of voices in the marble foyer interrupted the introductions. Moments later, Santo burst through the doorway, shopping bags hanging from his arms, with a dark-skinned, curvy young woman following more hesitantly behind him.
“Wife?” Santo blurted after I introduced Kayla. He strode forward while the woman lingered near the doorway. “Since when? What happened to Stella?”
I shifted my gaze to the girl at Santo’s side. “And who might this be?” I asked.
“This is Tia Massey,” Santo answered with unusual warmth. “She saved me.”
Recognition clicked into place. This was the young woman who’d pulled him from his car after an accident a few days ago. The one who’d likely prevented his funeral.
“Ah! The American!” I stepped forward, taking her hand between both of mine in genuine gratitude. “It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Miss Massey.”
“Likewise,” she murmured, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
I turned back to the matter at hand, gesturing to Kayla, who stood with remarkable composure beside me. “And this is Kayla Athanasiou. My wife.”
The word felt foreign on my tongue. We’d been married for less than twenty-four hours, yet the reality of our arrangement was only now becoming tangible as I introduced her to my family.
“Hello,” Kayla said, extending her hand to Tia.
Santo pressed on with his interrogation. “When did this happen? Is she Michail’s daughter?” His rapid-fire questions cut through the superficial calm. “Does Matthaios know?”
The mention of Matthaios caused my stomach to knot. My cousin’s plans for revenge against Michail complicated an already delicate situation. I exchanged a glance with Aristides.
“Perhaps Tia should bring her purchases to her room,” Aristides suggested, his authoritative tone providing the perfect exit strategy. “While a maid shows Kayla to her suite.”
“An excellent suggestion,” my mother agreed quickly, her eyes communicating volumes about the family discussion that would follow.
I watched Kayla follow the maid toward my rooms, noting how she took in her surroundings with keen interest. I wondered what she was thinking, what assessments she was making behind those expressive eyes.
The moment the women disappeared, Aristides began. “Before anything is said, we should all thank Kostas for getting Thalassía back into the hands of the Christakis family again. Well done, brother.”
This room had witnessed countless family discussions over generations, but few as consequential as this one.
“Our current ownership is only conditional,” I replied, feeling the weight of the antique signet ring on my finger. “There’s another element of our agreement that first needs to be satisfied.”
My brother gave me a quizzical look, the lines around his eyes deepening as he waited. The crystal decanter clinked against a glass as Santo poured himself a drink.
“The deed will only be in our possession when Kayla and I produce Michail’s grandchild.”
What followed my announcement was stillness, a moment so quiet that even the air seemed to harden around us.
Aunt Irida was the first one to break, slumping and letting her face fall into her hands as she began sobbing. Her body trembled with emotion. My mother reached for her, guiding her sister-in-law into a chair next to her, whispering something private and soothing.
Dimitrios moved to stand between them, one hand on each woman’s shoulder. “You should have walked away,” he said harshly. “Given the circumstances.” He glanced down at Irida, who looked broken. “This won’t end well.”
“I am doing this for Baba. For us.”
“This is madness, Konstantinos! Absolute madness!” Her voice echoed off the high ceilings. “You have no idea what you’ve done by agreeing to this.”
“Theia, please—” I began, but she cut me off with a slashing motion of her hand.
“Don’t ‘Theia’ me! Not when you’ve invited the daughter of that lying, manipulative, worthless excuse for a man into our home!” Her chest heaved with emotion. “Michail Athanasiou is a heartless, dishonorable snake who uses people like tissues and discards them just as easily!”
Dimitrios patted her shoulder. “Theia, this isn’t helping—”
“Helping?” She laughed. “Was it helping when that bastard promised me the world and then disappeared? Was it helping when he seduced me with his fancy words and promises of forever?” She pointed toward the door Kayla had exited. “And now his daughter will roam our halls and sleep under our roof while I’m expected to smile and pretend this isn’t hurting me!”
Santo stood frozen by the drink cart, eyes wide as he witnessed his great-aunt’s meltdown. Aristides moved to close the double doors and windows, ensuring the staff wouldn’t overhear.
