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"The Kostanidis brothers, their cousin, and I."
"I don’t understand."
"I don’t want to talk about it right now, Brooklyn. I want to take you to my place and lose myself in you, but I promised never to lie or withhold the truth. I keep my word."
"What you’re going to tell me . . .will it hurt?"
"Yes."
"Could it put my children’s lives at risk?"
"Absolutely not. They’re safe. I’ll protect them."
"But is there danger?"
"Maybe for you, but I just arranged for another dozen bodyguards. They’ll not only guard the house but patrol the surrounding streets as well. Your family is safe."
"Then whatever we need to discuss can wait. I don’t want what I’m feeling right now to be tainted by what happened in the past. And I think if we talk about Moses, it’ll ruin our night. I’ve suffered enough. I want the dream tonight, Athanasios. Just the dream."
Athanasios
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Brooklyn has surprised me.
As much as it pisses me off when the Kostanidou treat her like a fragile doll, I think that somehow I assimilated that thought, afraid of how she would take the news I needed to give her.
I forgot how strong she is, and it's not just about her recovery from the coma. She saw the man she lived with, the father of her children, get killed in front of her. She had two men break into her house in the middle of the night and point a gun at her. She found out that everything she lived with her partner was a lie, and still, none of that broke her.
Then I remember what she told me about her father. Brooklyn had to be fearless from an early age, for herself and for Madison. Now, she needs to conquer her fears for her twins.
The woman with a fragile appearance, delicate limbs, and hair so blonde it seems touched by the sun, is a fortress.
All these things make me admire her even more, but it’s her last decision that makes me finally understand what I have in my hands.
She’s put the present ahead of the past, throwing herself into what we have, into what is beginning between us—not because she's not afraid, but because she's brave as hell.
The driver parks in front of my building, and I get out of the car to help her step out.
“You're dismissed for the evening,” I say, and Brooklyn looks at me, a clear question in her perfect face.
I walk with her to the private elevator that leads directly to my penthouse, and as soon as we get inside, after selecting my floor on the panel, I lean against the wall opposite her to watch her in her tiny black dress, clinging to her body, letting me guess every curve hidden beneath the fabric. “You look beautiful.”
A small smile appears on her heart-shaped mouth. “I’m not going to compliment you back; it’s not fair,” she says and bites her lower lip as if she's unsure of what to say next.
I walk over to her and, with my thumb, free her lip from the grip of her teeth. “Speak.”
“You dismissed the bodyguards.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Why keep them waiting all night?”
I see her throat move as she swallows, and I slide my hand to that area, my open palm encompassing her entire neck, pressing just enough for her to have a glimpse of what I like.
“I told you that when I had you, it would be the whole night. Haven’t you learned yet that I’m a man of my word, Brooklyn?”