Page 41
Story: Influence
I leaned forward, curiosity gnawing at me as Markos’s smooth words flowed around us.
“Quite clear,” he reiterated, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I could feel the tension rising within the room, and I held my breath, knowing I didn’t want to hear what was coming.
“Despite her Vitalis name,” he continued, his tone dangerously calm, “she comes from a family no more illustrious than commoners. Picture it clearly—the Galanis reputation dragged through the mud.”
As Markos detailed his list of grievances, each complaint landed like a hammer blow on my chest. My throat tightened as I thought of my next steps.
“She’s uneducated, Niko. No proper upbringing, there isn’t even a nurturing mother to speak of. And her family's scandalous history?” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief while his eyes subtly flicked towards Stefano.
“What? Just say it, then!” I urged, my fists clenching beneath the table, envisioning the satisfaction of hurling a bottle of wine at Markos, the red liquid bursting like my chaotic thoughts.
“We mean no offense,” Markos offered, his voice a smooth cloak over the storm brewing inside me. “But her reputation in Prague? It leaves much to be desired.”
A knot formed in my stomach, and I pressed on, desperation edging my voice. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘her reputation’?”
Stefano shook his head, pity oozing from every pore, and I felt my blood heat. “Your men must have kept this from you. Someone has to tell you,” he said, the implication heavy in the air.
“Tell me what?” I shot back, a whirlwind of confusion and anger swirling within me. Was it possible they had informationthat eluded me? My men had been diligent—I’d even sent them back for more intelligence.
“Your fiancée is somewhat of a…” Stefano hesitated, but Markos cut him off, his expression stern, determined not to allow the words to escape.
There was a charged silence, and I could almost taste the betrayal in the air, a bitter aftertaste I hadn’t anticipated for my future.
“A whore, Niko! Layana is a whore!” Markos exclaimed. “They all are.”
What did he call her? The urge to kill him intensified. He would not tarnish Laya’s or her sisters’ names. I knew all too well the truth.
“Are you saying she’s merely promiscuous, or are you directly labeling her a whore?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and relying on my training to maintain my composure.
“Precisely that,” Stefano affirmed, his gaze locked onto mine with a serious intensity.
That accusation against my soon-to-be wife ignited a murderous rage so violent, it surprised me I hadn’t already torn him apart with my bare hands.
“But that’s just a rumor, isn’t it?” I stated.
“Yes,” Markos conceded, “but we’re determined to find solid proof.”
“Really? Proof? And how exactly do you plan to obtain that?” I challenged.
“We have some men investigating it,” Stefano admitted, leaving his explanation lingering.
Those sneaky bastards. What were they expecting to uncover? Torn condoms? Evidence of a fling? It all sounded absurd, and my inner fury threatened to burst over as I struggled to keep my cool.
I crossed my arms and asked, “Is there anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Markos snapped. “It’s obvious she needs to go. You’re better than this, Nikolas.”
“Well then, if there’s nothing else,” I began, drawing in a deep breath. “I appreciate your so-called honesty, and I’ll respond with equal frankness. Nothing you’ve said has made me reconsider my plan to marry Layana Vitalis. The wedding will proceed as scheduled.”
“What?” Stefano shouted, slamming his hand on the table so hard that the wine bottle and glasses rattled, attracting the surprised attention of everyone in the restaurant. “You never pay attention to us, Niko! Why did we even have this meeting if you were just going to embarrass our family?”
“That’s right,” Markos fumed. “You believe you’re the only one capable of leading this family, but you’re wrong. You’re fucking wrong, Niko.”
I stifled a yawn at their predictable, worn-out argument. Couldn’t they think of something fresh, for fuck’s sake?
“I have a question for both of you,” I said, barely above a whisper, forcing them to lean in to hear me. “How do you think our father would react to what you just mentioned if he were here with us now?”
They opened their mouths simultaneously to respond, but I raised a finger to my lips, silencing them right away.
“Quite clear,” he reiterated, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I could feel the tension rising within the room, and I held my breath, knowing I didn’t want to hear what was coming.
“Despite her Vitalis name,” he continued, his tone dangerously calm, “she comes from a family no more illustrious than commoners. Picture it clearly—the Galanis reputation dragged through the mud.”
As Markos detailed his list of grievances, each complaint landed like a hammer blow on my chest. My throat tightened as I thought of my next steps.
“She’s uneducated, Niko. No proper upbringing, there isn’t even a nurturing mother to speak of. And her family's scandalous history?” He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief while his eyes subtly flicked towards Stefano.
“What? Just say it, then!” I urged, my fists clenching beneath the table, envisioning the satisfaction of hurling a bottle of wine at Markos, the red liquid bursting like my chaotic thoughts.
“We mean no offense,” Markos offered, his voice a smooth cloak over the storm brewing inside me. “But her reputation in Prague? It leaves much to be desired.”
A knot formed in my stomach, and I pressed on, desperation edging my voice. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘her reputation’?”
Stefano shook his head, pity oozing from every pore, and I felt my blood heat. “Your men must have kept this from you. Someone has to tell you,” he said, the implication heavy in the air.
“Tell me what?” I shot back, a whirlwind of confusion and anger swirling within me. Was it possible they had informationthat eluded me? My men had been diligent—I’d even sent them back for more intelligence.
“Your fiancée is somewhat of a…” Stefano hesitated, but Markos cut him off, his expression stern, determined not to allow the words to escape.
There was a charged silence, and I could almost taste the betrayal in the air, a bitter aftertaste I hadn’t anticipated for my future.
“A whore, Niko! Layana is a whore!” Markos exclaimed. “They all are.”
What did he call her? The urge to kill him intensified. He would not tarnish Laya’s or her sisters’ names. I knew all too well the truth.
“Are you saying she’s merely promiscuous, or are you directly labeling her a whore?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and relying on my training to maintain my composure.
“Precisely that,” Stefano affirmed, his gaze locked onto mine with a serious intensity.
That accusation against my soon-to-be wife ignited a murderous rage so violent, it surprised me I hadn’t already torn him apart with my bare hands.
“But that’s just a rumor, isn’t it?” I stated.
“Yes,” Markos conceded, “but we’re determined to find solid proof.”
“Really? Proof? And how exactly do you plan to obtain that?” I challenged.
“We have some men investigating it,” Stefano admitted, leaving his explanation lingering.
Those sneaky bastards. What were they expecting to uncover? Torn condoms? Evidence of a fling? It all sounded absurd, and my inner fury threatened to burst over as I struggled to keep my cool.
I crossed my arms and asked, “Is there anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Markos snapped. “It’s obvious she needs to go. You’re better than this, Nikolas.”
“Well then, if there’s nothing else,” I began, drawing in a deep breath. “I appreciate your so-called honesty, and I’ll respond with equal frankness. Nothing you’ve said has made me reconsider my plan to marry Layana Vitalis. The wedding will proceed as scheduled.”
“What?” Stefano shouted, slamming his hand on the table so hard that the wine bottle and glasses rattled, attracting the surprised attention of everyone in the restaurant. “You never pay attention to us, Niko! Why did we even have this meeting if you were just going to embarrass our family?”
“That’s right,” Markos fumed. “You believe you’re the only one capable of leading this family, but you’re wrong. You’re fucking wrong, Niko.”
I stifled a yawn at their predictable, worn-out argument. Couldn’t they think of something fresh, for fuck’s sake?
“I have a question for both of you,” I said, barely above a whisper, forcing them to lean in to hear me. “How do you think our father would react to what you just mentioned if he were here with us now?”
They opened their mouths simultaneously to respond, but I raised a finger to my lips, silencing them right away.
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