Page 55 of Slightly Married
“Enough.” His voice carried unmistakable authority. “The Christakis family doesn’t tolerate slander. Our lawyers will be contacting anyone continuing these disgusting rumors.”
Katalina’s (Santo’s ex) voice cut through the momentary silence. “How can you defend a woman who’s offering her prostitution services here, while Santo is racing?”
I expected Tia to crumble under the combined weight of these attacks. Instead, I witnessed a transformation commanding my immediate respect.
“Oh, so we’re just saying anything now?” she began. “Just making up fake stories? You’ll are really bold whispering, but not bold enough to say it to my face. Let’s go down the list, shall we?”
What followed was a masterclass in verbal lashing. Tia dismantled her opponents one by one. She called out the woman whose cosmetic surgeon had clearly been overpaid for her unnaturally taut features, then verbally eviscerated the man with the chicken-leg physique who’d dared call her shameless.
By the time she turned her attention to Katalina, the room’s energy had shifted palpably. “Let’s be real. The only reason you’re mad is because Santo took one look at me and hasn’t been able to take his eyes or hands off me since.”
When she concluded with, “Now, sip your champagne like your life ain’t miserable, and let me watch my man’s damn race in peace,” I found myself impressed.
Kayla erupted in applause beside me, beaming with pride. “That’s my girl!” she exclaimed, looking around the room with satisfaction.
Tia possessed a backbone beneath her sweet exterior. Santo, it seemed, had chosen more wisely than I had initially given him credit for.
Aristides moved beside me. “Interesting.”
“What is?” I asked, watching as Kayla comforted a still-trembling Tia.
“How quickly we’ve all accepted these women into our family,” he replied, his voice carrying no judgment, merely observation. “First your Kayla, now Santo’s American.”
“Our family has always valued strength,” I replied, keeping my voice low as I observed Kayla’s protective stance beside Tia. “Though it manifests differently than we might have expected.”
I considered how easily Kayla had integrated herself into my life, challenging my beliefs while respecting their foundations.How Tia had just demonstrated an ability to stand firm without sacrificing her morals.
“These women bring something we perhaps didn’t realize we needed,” I continued. “Different perspectives. New energy.”
Aristides nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Change isn’t always comfortable.”
“No,” I agreed, “but sometimes it’s necessary.” I thought about how my expectations had begun to shift over the past weeks. “Father always said the strongest metals are forged through fire,” I added. “Perhaps the same is true for family bonds.”
“A surprisingly poetic sentiment from you, Kostas,” Aris remarked.
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the observation yet unable to deny its accuracy. “We all evolve, it seems.”
As the crowd’s attention shifted back to the upcoming race, I contemplated my brother’s words. How quickly had I accepted Kayla as more than a temporary arrangement? When had she become essential rather than expedient?
The announcement of the drivers taking their positions refocused me on the reason we had gathered. From our privileged position in the VIP viewing box, I watched the race unfold.
Santo’s battle with Juan was apparent. Their cars danced a dangerous waltz across the circuit, the rivalry alive in every aggressive maneuver. Through my binoculars, I tracked Santo’s car as it thundered through Eau Rouge, his control impeccable despite the crushing G-forces.
The viewing box pulsed with the energy of the spectators. Despite the soundproofing, the rumble of twenty engines at full throttle penetrated our resonating in my chest.
“He’s maintaining racing lines despite the pressure,” I remarked to Kayla, who watched with a mixture of excitement and concern beside me.
When the checkered flag waved with Santo crossing ahead, our viewing box erupted. Kayla threw herself in my arms, and I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her off the ground as she squealed in excitement.
“He did it!” she exclaimed, her arms tightly looped around my neck.
“He did,” I confirmed.
Seeing Santo win, witnessing the culmination of his hard work and dedication, filled me with a sense of pride that was almost paternal. Around us, crystal flutes clinked and congratulatory shouts echoed against the glass walls.
Kayla leaned in, pressing her mouth against mine. I tightened my hold on her, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back. Her lips parted, and my tongue swept in, tangling with hers.
When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed. “How long before he joins us up here?” She asked, her voice breathless and raised above the celebratory noise. “Tia and I need to use the washroom.”
