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CHAPTER FIVE

‘HOW WAS IT?’

Amara, Iolanthe’s housekeeper and closest confidante for the last ten years, having cared for her since she was a child, met her at the doorway of the town house near the Plaka that she’d lived in since her marriage.

‘Terrible.’ Iolanthe only just managed to choke out the word. An hour after meeting Alekos and she was still caught between fury and fear.

Amara’s face paled as she took Iolanthe’s coat. ‘Let me get you a warm drink.’ Amara’s solution for everything was a cup of Greek mountain tea, considered a panacea in the region of central Greece from which she came. Over the years Iolanthe had learned to like the herbal tea, made of ironwort and flavoured with honey and lemon.

‘Thank you, Amara,’ she said as she moved past the housekeeper to the kitchen, the heart of the house. ‘But I’m afraid a cup of tea is not going to solve my problems now. Where is Niko?’

‘Upstairs, on the computer.’

As he so often was. Her son spent most of his time either reading, playing with his electrical gadgets, or on the computer. People and social situations were a continual struggle, despite Iolanthe’s determined and increasingly desperate attempts to have him socialise.

She sank into a chair at the kitchen table and pressed trembling fingers to her temple. She was shaken in more ways than she cared to admit by seeing Alekos again. Not just by his awful plans for the company, but by the sheer presence of the man himself. He was just as darkly and devastatingly attractive now as he’d been ten years ago, when he’d stolen both her heart and her innocence. Even more so, more forbidding, with no hint of a smile to curve that once mobile mouth, no promise of laughter to lighten those topaz eyes. He’d looked like an angry god from the old myths and legends, someone come down from the stars to wreak his vengeance. And he had. Oh, he had. How could she lose Petra Innovation?

Amara busied herself at the range, plucking the roots and stems of the ironwort plant she always kept in supply and boiling them in a little brass pot on the stovetop. ‘What has happened?’ she asked as she plucked a mug from the rack and squeezed lemon juice and honey into it. ‘I thought you went to speak to the solicitor as a matter of course.’

‘So did I.’ Iolanthe leaned back in her chair and briefly closed her eyes. It felt like an age since she’d taken a taxi to Metaxas’s office, blithely thinking he would simply number her assets. Instead he’d told her she might as well not have any.

‘Well, then?’ Amara asked, a touch of impatience adding to the anxiety in her voice. She’d been part of Iolanthe’s household for her entire marriage. ‘Tell me what has happened.’

‘Alekos Demetriou has taken over Petra Innovation.’ Amara’s eyes widened with surprise. No one knew that Alekos was Niko’s father, no one save her, her father, and Lukas. It had been an agreement they had made when Lukas had agreed to take Iolanthe as his wife. He would raise Niko as his own, and to the whole world they would present a happy, united front. Or at least try. In the end, Lukas had not tried very hard at all.

‘And what does this Demetriou intend to do with it?’ Amara asked.

Briefly Iolanthe told her. Amara listened in silence, setting the mug of hot, fragrant tea in front of Iolanthe before sitting across from her with her own cup.

‘Very well,’ she said when Iolanthe had finished. ‘But it is not so terrible, surely? Forty per cent should see you and Niko cared for, and you never had anything to do with the company.’

‘The company is Niko’s birthright,’ Iolanthe returned with feeling. ‘My father lived for that company, and so did Lukas.’ She took a sip of tea, swallowing the honey-sweetened liquid along with her bitterness. ‘Niko has always looked forward to being a part of it.’ Talos had, in the last years of his life, mellowed in his disappointment and anger towards Iolanthe, and he’d sometimes taken Niko to work with him, shown him the inheritance that shimmered so promisingly. Lukas had always ignored his cuckoo son, and Iolanthe suspected that Niko cared so much about Petra Innovation because he wanted to impress the man he believed to be his father. Now Lukas was dead, and the company was all her son had. ‘I can’t give it up without a fight. For Niko’s sake I need to try.’ She glanced up at Amara, forcing back the threat of tears. ‘You know what it means to him.’

Amara sighed. ‘Yes, but he is only nine.’

‘All he has ever wanted is to work for Petra Innovation,’ Iolanthe answered. ‘To make his father and grandfather proud.’ The tears she had blinked back now thickened in her throat. Niko had so many struggles, and only one hope. How could she take it from him?

‘And if you have no choice?’ Amara asked grimly.

‘I do have a choice,’ Iolanthe returned, and then closed her eyes against the realisation. She could tell Alekos that Niko was his son. Would he keep Petra Innovation for his own son? Could she gamble on some hidden compassion and softness that Alekos had yet to show her? And it was a gamble; she didn’t know if she dared risk whatever repercussions such an admission would cause. Everything felt fraught.

‘What do you mean, you have a choice?’ Amara asked. ‘If this man has the controlling shares...’

‘I can talk to him.’ Resolutely Iolanthe put down her cup of tea and squared her shoulders. ‘I have to talk to him.’

After finishing her tea and talk with Amara, Iolanthe headed upstairs to the top floor of the town house that had been converted into a suite of rooms for Niko. She stopped in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him with a familiar ache in her heart. He was at his desk, his golden-brown gaze narrowed as he studied the code on the computer screen, completely absorbed in what he was doing, unaware of his surroundings or her presence.

‘Niko.’ Iolanthe spoke gently, knowing her son needed a little time to focus on a person after staring so long at a screen. ‘What are you doing, pethi mou?’

Niko tensed at the sound of her voice and then slowly turned away from the screen, blinking his mother into focus. ‘An app.’

‘You’re making another app?’

He nodded, his expression serious and a little wary. Social interaction had always been fraught for him. ‘Which one is it this time?’ Iolanthe asked lightly. She perched on the edge of the desk, making sure to stay well away from the computer Niko loved and obsessed over. Once she’d dared to touch the keyboard and a near meltdown had ensued. She knew better now.

Niko shrugged thin shoulders, his gaze sliding away from hers as it so often did. From the time he was a baby, Iolanthe had struggled to forge that connection that so many mothers took for granted. She loved her son, she had no doubt about that. She loved him with a fierce and aching fury, wanting to protect him because he was different, because there were so many things he didn’t understand. But she didn’t always feel that Niko loved her. Sometimes she wondered if her son knew how to love. She felt guilty and mean for the thought; Niko showed love in his own way. She knew that, had argued the point fiercely to Lukas and her father, and yet in the quiet grief of her own heart she wondered. She feared.

‘Niko?’ Iolanthe prompted gently. ‘What’s the app?’

He shrugged, looking away from her. ‘Just a thing to keep track of your zombie power points.’

‘Right.’ As if she knew what that meant. In the last year Niko had started designing apps for some of the more popular online games, one of them apparently involving zombies. At Iolanthe’s encouragement, he’d shown them to Lukas, shyly, but Lukas had dismissed them and him with one cursory glance. Iolanthe feared that Niko, in his silence and isolation, had absorbed his father’s rejection, and it made him withdraw even more. She tried to support and encourage Niko as best she could, but she’d been out of her depth with his technical knowledge for years. ‘So what are power points?’ she asked. ‘Are they good or bad?’

‘Good. People buy them online for a lot of money.’

‘Wow. And your app keeps track of them?’

Niko confirmed this with a little nod, his gaze already moving back to the computer screen.

‘That sounds cool, Niko,’ Iolanthe said, and dared to touch her son’s hair with the tips of her fingertips.

He ducked away and Iolanthe withdrew her hand. ‘Did you meet with the solicitor?’ he asked after a few seconds, his gaze still on the screen.

‘Yes.’ She’d told him about her meeting last night before bed.

Niko turned to glance at her, his golden eyes, so much like Alekos’s, narrowing. ‘And what did he say? Is everything all right?’

‘Everything’s fine, Niko,’ Iolanthe assured him. How could she tell him anything else? He might act as if he were much older in some ways, but her son was nine. She couldn’t burden him with her financial troubles. Except they were his too, because Petra Innovation was meant to be his. Needed to be his. Taking that away from Niko would be like taking away his reason to live. Talking about Petra Innovation made his eyes light with excitement and brought him out of his untouchable silence to something close to a chatterbox. Niko needed Petra Innovation. He needed the hope of something better and bigger that he could be a part of.

Briefly Iolanthe closed her eyes as regret swamped through her. How had Lukas let this happen? How had she? Maybe she should have taken more of an interest in the company, insisted on knowing what was going on, and in doing so safeguarded her son’s inheritance.

The prospect was, she knew, laughable. She didn’t know the first thing about the business. And her father and Lukas would have never countenanced her interest anyway. They’d barely tolerated her presence, always reminding her of her shame.

‘Mama?’ The endearment sounded strange on her son’s lips; he rarely used it. ‘Are you sure everything is all right?’

‘Yes.’ Iolanthe took a deep breath and smiled at her son. She would not burden Niko with this. She would figure out a way to keep Petra Innovation for her son. She owed it to him to keep his dream alive; she owed it to herself. She’d given up so much already, all in payment for her crimes—the crime of giving her body to a cold and cruel man. ‘Everything’s fine, Niko.’ She patted his hand, winning a shy, uncertain smile from him that felt like a triumph. Smiling back, she rose from her perch on his desk, leaving him to his app.

Somehow she had to find a way forward.

* * *

Alekos pushed his laptop away, disgusted with himself and his inability to concentrate since seeing Iolanthe yesterday. After leaving the offices of Petra Innovation, he’d wandered the streets of Athens’ business district, too restless and on edge to return to his own office. Too beset by memories.

Memories of Iolanthe, her face, her voice, her body. Her throaty laugh, like strains of music he hadn’t realised he still longed to hear. Her mouth, opening under his, a flower whose scent and nectar he realised he’d never forgotten. And the feel of him inside her, the way she’d accepted him into her body, and how in that moment he’d felt, powerful and vulnerable at the same time, as if he’d scaled a mountain and come home all at once.

How had he forgotten all that? Why had he remembered it now? Iolanthe had changed. He had changed. And he had no use for her any more, if he ever had.

Now he rose from his desk in the penthouse office of Demetriou Tech and gazed out at the city skyline. He could see the ancient Acropolis in the distance, and he recalled how he’d seen it that night with Iolanthe on the balcony, when he’d been desperate to kiss her. He just hadn’t realised how much until his lips had touched hers.

Alekos swore under his breath and spun away from the window. He had to stop thinking this way. He had to stop remembering so damn much. And probably remembering it better than it was—it had been a single night of madness, a sexual encounter he’d been quick to dismiss as soon as it was over. No point in making more of it than there ever had been.

And yet he still felt restless. Where was the sense of satisfaction, of justice finally served? He’d been waiting for the day he was able to shut the doors on Petra Innovation for nearly fifteen years. When Callos had offered the shares on the open market six months ago, Alekos had known he finally had his chance.

Yet leaving Iolanthe in the CEO’s office, he hadn’t felt the savage surge of satisfaction he’d both craved and expected. He’d felt...empty. Cheated, even, although he couldn’t say how or why.

‘Kyria Iolanthe Callos to see you, sir.’ The voice of his PA coming through the intercom had Alekos stiffening. Iolanthe had come here—why? To beg for Petra Innovation?

His mouth curved in a grim smile. Then he would let her beg.

* * *

Iolanthe stepped through the double doors into Alekos’s office and forced both her step and voice to stay steady. It took a lot of effort. Just the sight of him standing there, one hand resting on his desk, his face so cold and closed and beautiful, made her heart flutter in her chest and every calm, confident thing she’d been planning to say empty from her head.

He looked forbidding but he also looked devastatingly attractive in his navy pinstriped, three-piece suit, his ebony hair cut close and emphasising his sharp cheekbones, those tawny eyes that his son had inherited. His mouth was a hard line but Iolanthe remembered when it had been soft and open on hers. She remembered the way his fingers had felt stroking her cheek...

‘What are you doing here, Iolanthe?’

He didn’t sound quite as unfriendly as he had that awful night when she’d come by, thinking to tell him she was pregnant. Recalling how harsh and unwelcoming he’d looked then thankfully forced away the memory of his kisses.

‘I wanted to talk to you.’ To her relief her voice came out strong. Mostly.

‘I didn’t realise we had anything to talk about.’

‘Why do you want to liquidate Petra Innovation?’ She hadn’t meant to speak so plainly, so desperately. She’d meant to come from a stronger stance so they could have a civilised discussion among equals, and she could act as if she were in control. But why bother? They both knew she wasn’t.

Alekos regarded her for a long, level moment, those opaque golden eyes giving nothing away. ‘Because it serves no purpose.’

‘Then why did you buy it all? Why buy something just to sell it?’

‘To make a profit.’

‘Did you? After buying up all those shares?’ Iolanthe’s stomach cramped as the realisation hit her afresh. ‘It really is just revenge,’ she stated, and Alekos simply kept giving her that awful blank stare. ‘It’s always been about revenge for you.’

He cocked his head, his gaze sweeping over her, cold, closed, formidable. ‘Then you know.’

‘I know you’ve hated my father for having an idea you couldn’t come up with,’ Iolanthe fired back, too angry now to guard her words. ‘For not being as fast or as clever as he was. It’s not just revenge, it’s—it’s nothing more than sour grapes!’

Alekos’s expression didn’t change and yet he seemed even more still, more dangerous, like a predator about to spring and devour. ‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked in an ominously low voice.

Iolanthe quelled underneath that voice and gaze but she still held her ground. ‘He told me all about the history between you two, after...’ She trailed away, a treacherous flush sweeping over her entire body as she remembered that after. After she’d given herself to Alekos, body and soul. After she’d stupidly thought they had some kind of connection, some kind of future.

‘He told you about our history?’ Alekos clarified. ‘And he said I wasn’t as—what was it?—as fast or as clever as he was?’

‘Yes...’

He strolled to the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and gazed out at the azure sky. ‘He came up with an idea that I couldn’t.’

Iolanthe eyed him uncertainly. He’d spoken the words like a statement, but it felt more like a question. Something was still unsaid, unresolved. ‘Something like that. He didn’t give me the details. He just said there was a software system he’d designed more quickly than you had.’

‘Is that right?’ He sounded so diffident, as if this were a matter of casual interest, yet she could feel the tension and even the anger reverberating through the room. The air felt electric with it.

‘So you think my taking over Petra Innovation is payback for your father being better than me?’ Alekos stated. ‘For coming up with an idea I couldn’t?’ Iolanthe didn’t answer and Alekos turned around, his mouth twisting. ‘What a sad, petty little man you must think I am.’

Sad, petty, little. None of those words described Alekos Demetriou. And yet he’d been so hard and hostile towards her in every interaction after their first. What was she supposed to believe? ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t believe him?’ she challenged. ‘That he was lying to me? He was my father—’

‘Whereas I was only the man you slept with. The man you gave your virginity to.’ His mouth curved cynically and Iolanthe battled a rising wave of fury.

‘And you made it very clear what you thought of that ill-fated gift,’ she snapped. ‘Trust me, I don’t regret anything more.’

‘I can say the same.’

‘Well, then.’ She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in agitated breaths as she glared at him. This was not the way she’d wanted to conduct this meeting.

‘Well, then,’ Alekos repeated mockingly. He inclined his head, that cynical smile still touching his lips. ‘It seems we have nothing more to say to one another.’

‘But we do.’ Iolanthe glared at him in frustration. ‘You can’t do this, Alekos—’

‘So you’ve said before, but you’ll find that I can.’

‘Why?’ She heard the ragged note of tears in her voice and swallowed it down. She had no time for tears, and she was quite sure Alekos didn’t either. Not hers, anyway. ‘Why destroy my father’s company, my son’s livelihood, for something that happened years and years ago? So he designed something you were trying to. He beat you. Can’t you just let it go?’

‘Yes, he beat me,’ Alekos returned, a savage note entering his voice. ‘He did that.’

Iolanthe eyed him uncertainly. ‘Why are you so angry still?’

His face cleared of emotion, his voice toneless when he spoke. ‘In any case, it’s hardly as if you’ll be out on the street. I estimate that your forty per cent, when liquidated, will bring in enough profit to leave you far from destitute.’

‘I don’t want money,’ Iolanthe cried. ‘I want my father’s company for my son. It’s his birthright, Alekos—’

‘Then perhaps your husband should have taken better care of it.’

He was so implacable, so terribly cold. ‘Damn you,’ Iolanthe choked, and she pressed her fist to her lips as she struggled for control. She had to tell Alekos about Niko. Even now, especially now, she shrank from the idea, from the prospect of Alekos’s disbelief or, far worse, his rejection of his son.

Or, she acknowledged sickly, an even more terrifying possibility...that Alekos would want some say in his son’s life. In her life.

She didn’t know which option scared her the most. And so she stayed silent, her back to Alekos, her fist still pressed to her mouth as she drew several deep breaths.

‘I really don’t see why you care so much,’ Alekos said and she stiffened. ‘Your son is what? Seven? Eight?’

‘Nine,’ Iolanthe whispered.

‘A child,’ Alekos stated. ‘He will be well provided for with the money that remains. You don’t need to worry about that. Or is it just that you don’t want me to have it?’

Iolanthe turned around slowly. ‘I don’t want you to destroy it,’ she clarified. ‘Can’t you understand that?’

Alekos stared at her, unmoved. ‘No, I can’t. It isn’t as if it was your business. All it did was fund your lifestyle.’

Iolanthe drew back, stung by the scornful words. ‘My lifestyle?’ she repeated. ‘And you know so much about that?’

He shrugged. ‘A town house in the Plaka, a private island...’

Iolanthe let out a hollow laugh. ‘You are listing my husband’s assets, not my lifestyle.’

Alekos folded his arms. ‘All I’m saying is you won’t be inconvenienced. Your lifestyle won’t change, or at least not too much.’

She stared at him in disbelief. ‘My husband is dead, his company is about to be destroyed, and you think my lifestyle won’t change? You are either the most unintelligent or the most insensitive man I’ve ever met. Maybe both.’

‘I’m sorry.’ A muscle flickered in his jaw before he set it. ‘I was not referring to the death of your husband. Just the company.’

‘Oh, okay. That’s fine, then.’ Iolanthe let out another laugh, this one ragged. Alekos had no idea about her life, how quiet and simple it had been. Clearly he thought she was some pampered princess, a spoilt heiress enjoying society life.

How could she tell Alekos about Niko? Yet how could she not? Petra Innovation was everything to Niko. He lived for the day he’d be able to take the helm. But what if telling Alekos the truth didn’t change his mind?

And what if it did?

‘It seems there is nothing more to say,’ Alekos said flatly.

Iolanthe took a deep breath. ‘Actually, Alekos, there is.’ Another breath to fill her lungs; she felt as if she were jumping off a cliff, stepping out into thin air. How long would she freefall for? And how hard would her landing be? ‘Niko isn’t Lukas Callos’s son, Alekos. He’s yours.’

Ruthless Revenge: Sinful Seduction

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