Page 55 of Dagger in the Sea

What Alessio had said about her boyfriend and a possible other violent incident in the past had me wondering if that was the cause for her wanting to stay put at home, instead of living the high life on her own in a big, flashy city like London after finishing college. She certainly had the financial means to do whatever she wanted, to go wherever she wanted.

“What’s in London?” I asked.

“Our headquarters. The plan was for me to go to the London office after uni.” Her fingers played with the stem of her wine glass.

“The weather would be very different, that’s for sure.”

Her lips tipped up and her face relaxed once more. That got a grin out of her. Something was troubling her, and I liked that I had pulled her out of it even for just a moment.

“Real estate is the family business?”

“No. My mother started that company on her own about a decade ago.”

“What is the family business then?”

“Shipping,” she said quietly, straightening her shoulders.

A word. A single word like any other.

“Shipping?”

“Hmm.” She wiped at her mouth with the linen napkin, swallowing hard.

“Shipping as in Onassis, Niarchos—thatkind of Greek shipping?”

“Yes, that kind.”

I put my fork down. Adriana was a Greek shipowner’s daughter. An heiress of massive proportions. Fuck millions—a few billion?

“Every man in Greece knows my worth,”she’d remarked. She was right. A stunning, sexy, gorgeous, good girl heiress.

“My mother’s family is the shipping piece actually,” she said. “My father’s family business is petroleum and refineries. Plus a football team, a bank, media. When they married, they combined the companies.”

“Right. That explains the paparazzi liking you so much,” I said.

“Hmm.”

Which explained that house, the artwork, her casual familiarity with all thingsprimo classe. “And it explains you needing a bodyguard,” I added. “But why would someone shoot at you? If that was meant for you, of course.”

Her gaze remained fixed on her dish as she pushed at the salad leaves with her fork. “I don’t know.”

I wanted to know.

Was her family embroiled in some kind of mess that had a gangsta style duo try to shoot at her in a public place? Why Adri and not her father or her mother? Still, I felt the shooting was most probably Aliberti related. Although, from what her mother had hinted at and Alessio, this hadn’t been Adri’s first experience with a violent assault. Maybe this was some crazy, obsessed celebrity stalker after her?

She drank more wine, staring out at the sea, the lines of her face taut. I didn’t like that tension creeping into her beautiful eyes, tightening her body.

My legs found hers under the table, pressing against them. Her eyes darted to mine, her cheeks reddened.

“Do you work at the family business?” I asked.

“I’m spearheading a research project for my father. In between that, my mother has been ferrying me to photo opportunities at galas and fundraisers and opening ceremonies. She and I make a brilliant pair on a magazine cover and tasty fashion fodder for the gossip chat shows on TV. Good publicity for the brand, you know.”

“And what do you want?”

She put the fork down. “Now, with the Olympics coming to Athens next summer, many new things are going on here, so I wanted to stay.”

“And not go back to London.”

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