Page 20

During the flight

“Who’s looking after her?”

I'm almost in Greece, and I spent practically the entire flight awake. Having my mind always overloaded with information is normal for me, but today it’s evenmore so.

Until about ten days ago, my concerns were all about avenging my family and my cousin. I tried to believe that, at some point, when it all came to an end, I would be able to move on, freeing myself once and for all from the pain and hate that seems to pump through my body with a force stronger than blood.

Finally, to be able to rest.

But the more time that passes, the more it seems like a distant dream.

I replayed everything over and over last night. In fact, every day since I’ve had her with me.

Am I tarnishing my family's memory by getting involved with an Argyros? I know consciously that she's not to blame for anything. Elina, contrary to what I thought, was just another pawn in the dirty game Leandros was playing .

I don't even believe that his wife is the keeper of his affections. He’s had several extramarital affairs.

I'm rational enough to separate what I'm experiencing with Elina from my plans of revenge. The problem is that I know that, at some point, those paths will cross.

She's agreed not to ask me about her father anymore, which could mean a kind of escape for her or that she just doesn't care. From what I know of my blonde now, I'd bet on the first option.

In the past, I might have believed that she has been playing with me, focusing only on her own livelihood, perhaps because I used to believe that a fruit never falls very far from the tree. My opinion of the Argyroses has never been worse.

However, I now know that at least two of them have almost none of the bastard's personality: Theodoro and Elina.

A message from Grigori lights up on my cell phone, informing me that Naim arrived in the States last night, which makes it clear that he knows I brought her with me. While I had no doubt he would have the means to find out, I didn't think his obsession with her would lead him so far as to risk coming into my territory to get her.

“Six men,” my head security replies. “But Grigori is ready for any eventuality.”

That doesn't reassure me.

I'm not someone who lets my guard down under regular circumstances, let alone when real danger is lurking nearby. The idea of not having direct control over her safety is making my mind race.

I feel torn about what I know is my duty to my family, which is to punish Orien's killers, and my urge to keep her safe.

But Aristeu deserves an answer.

Whatever happens, today I'll find out my cousin's whereabouts. I don't care what has to be done—everyone responsible will pay. Aristeu has the right to at least know where his son's body is.

I pick up my phone and decide to text her. I've held back so far, trying to impose some distance to keep myself focused, but I need to make sure she's okay.

Texting, chatting during the day...I don’t normally do any of that with my women, but I've given up trying to fit Elina into any of the categories from my previous relationships.

Remember what we talked about? Don't run away from security. It will cost them their jobs if they lose sight of you.

I hit send while trying to imagine whether she would roll her eyes upon receiving it. I would be a liar if I didn't confess that her quarrelsome way turns me on, but this time I would like her to actually obey my request.

I lean my head back in the chair and close my eyes. I don't usually shy away from my responsibilities, but at least for one day I'd like to be a normal thirty-six-year-old guy, not having to spend all my time strategizing against enemies, planning how to make them pay.

Being able to explore what is coming to life between the two of us.

It was a hell of a hard thing leaving her yesterday, but there was nothing I could do.

I cannot betray my blood.

Aristeu needs to have his closure.

GREECE

Sometimes I ask myself: when all this is done, will there be anything human left in me?

I look at the man I vaguely remember from a remote period when I lived here. Ciro now looks like a shadow of what he once was. Time comes for everyone, even arrogant assassins who think they have the right to choose between life and death.

“I swear to God I'm telling the truth! I've been on the run for eight years! Why would I do this except to hide?”

I know he is. I know too much about the human soul not to realize how terrified he is .

Everything he’s told me matches up with the information Theodoro gave me at the party, except what happened inside the boathouse.

Ciro was the only one who managed to escape. All the other men who participated in my cousin's murder were killed that very day by Leandros.

“I'm not a good man. I've killed many times for Doctor Argyros, but I'm not a pervert and I couldn't do what he ordered. He wanted me to dishonor the boy. Take away his dignity.”

I feel bile rise in my throat as I hear him repeat what Leandros told them to do to Orien before they murdered him. I'm disgusted, but that feeling is nothing in comparison to my desire to kill.

My yearning for revenge has never diminished, but sometimes it feels as if it’s been numbed. Maintaining a constant state of hate for twenty-four years is not a simple task—you have to cultivate emotions such as resentment and hurt. You have to let your family's cries and pleas for mercy come back to mind often. You have no right to allow yourself to forget.

After what I have just heard, however, this will no longer be necessary.

Forcing myself to stay focused, I mean.

Disgust and repulsion pulses through my system with the same intensity as it did after that first conversation with my rescuer.

The day I left my fears behind and started transforming into what I’ve become today.

“Killing has always been easy for me,” he continues, and I can see his desperation to convince me. “But I couldn't destroy the boy like that. I'm not a rapist. I didn't even pull the trigger!”

I don't know if he's trying to move me. Anyway, it won't help. “No, he ordered another sick person, just like you, to do it.”

One boy, practically a child, against five grown men.

“I know it doesn't improve my situation, but if it weren't for me who was leading that day, his end would have been much worse. None of the other men would defy the boss's orders, and I only did it because the boy was the same age as my nephew.”

I can no longer listen to him. I get up, ready to hasten his end. “Where is he? Is his body on the island? ”

I remember my cousin. We lived together for a short time, but I only saw him transform into an adult through the photographs that Aristeu sent of him and Milena. The memory that comes to me is that of a thin and tall boy about eight years old, the age he and Theodoro were when I went to study in the United States.

Orien was a different, introspective child who seemed very mature for his age.

In a way, it's a relief to get answers, because I didn't have any illusions that everything would turn out all right.

Only, now I must visit a dying man to tell him that his son, his boy, lost his life in the most despicable way possible.

It's horrible to say this, but at least it was quick—true luck for Orien; this time the monster Argyros didn't perform his vile deeds himself, as he did to my family.

“Yes. I can make you a map of the location.”

“Do it.”

I get up, as there is nothing more to say.

As soon as I find out where Orien is, I'll start closing the doors on my past, meaning I'll send each of those responsible to talk to our Creator.

“What will happen to me? Will you let me go?”

I turn to look at him. “You're not going anywhere.”

“I can help. I know many of Dr. Argyros's secrets. Things that maybe not even his family knows. He ran away, didn't he? Maybe I have an idea of where to find him. Can we make a deal?”

It's not what I want, but thinking rationally, if the old assassin is willing to cooperate, he might be of use to me in the near future.

So I try to keep my emotions in check.

I still need the unfortunate man.

Days Late r

ATHENS

Despite being certain of Orien's death, I decide not to tell Aristeu until we have formal confirmation that the bones found in the place indicated by Ciro belong to his son.

This should happen over the next few days, so I see no point in causing him pain before then.

I have arranged for a former detective from the capital’s police and a forensic technician to come to the island so they can verify through DNA tests that it's really the boy.

I don't want the police involved. If it turns out that a crime has been committed on the island, they would launch an investigation and then likely establish an international hunt for Argyros. I need him to be off the radar so I can accomplish what I have planned.

So, in the end, my visit to Aristeu ends up being just to check if he needs anything. I think the good man has been in denial for years but that, deep down, he’s always known he would never see his son again.

Milena has been staying with him since I returned to the States with Elina, and it seems that her presence has brought him a breath of life.

I leave the hospital anxious to leave Greece. Elina should be the last person I want to be with, but the truth is, I know that only she can make me forget what’s happened over the last few days. I want to lose myself in her body and allow myself to not think about anything for a few hours.

Feeling, living.

I need a break.

On the flight to New York

I'm overwhelmed.

I've grown used to the guilt of having survived when my family didn’t, but today, in particular, I feel drained .

Before returning home, I stopped in Boston to tell Theo about Orien. He deserved to know that my cousin didn't just turn his back on him, although I'm sure it was painful to find out that it was his father who ordered the death of his best friend.

Looking at everything now, the contract that Leandros made with Naim to sell Elina doesn’t seem so impossible. He thinks he has the right to dictate everyone's lives, and his children are no exception.

Contributing to the state of mind in which I currently find myself, Elina hasn’t responded to my messages or even attempted any kind of communication since I’ve been away.

I try to pretend it doesn't matter.

We agreed to something casual, we both stated that we didn't want to create sentimental bonds, so I can't understand why the hell I'm so bothered.

I’ve done my best not to think about what happened that day in the apartment, but I’ve failed miserably.

My relationships have always been about pleasure, the experience itself, the moment, not caring about anything when it's all over.

This time it's not working.

At night, in the bedroom, with my eyes either closed or open, it's her face that I see.

How she gave herself to me without any shame.

Surrendered herself, passionately.

I need her.

I should go home when the plane lands in New York, but I know I won't.

At least for one night, I will leave my past locked away. I don't want to go home and find the emptiness that is my life.

I look at the clock. I'll arrive in Manhattan at dawn.

Will she welcome me?

I don't have much time to think about it, because my cell phone rings and I see it's Grigori.

“Something’s happened.” He doesn't need to say anything else to let me know it's about Elina.

“How is she?”

“At home, but I think I'll take her to a hotel.”

“Don't beat around the bush. Tell me at once what the hell happened.”

“She's not talking to me, and she refuses to see a doctor.”

“Doctor?”

“Someone broke into her apartment and almost kidnapped her. When I went to check on her earlier today, she asked me to take her to a fair that she had seen in a movie or whatever. None of the men assigned to escort her bothered to leave anyone guarding the apartment, and when they returned, only two of them went upstairs with her.”

“Fire them.”

“Calm down. I’ve already solved the issue. Apparently, they thought there wasn’t any danger, but they weren't being paid to assume anything. They failed.”

I unbuckle my seat belt and pace around the plane.

“To make a long story short, there was a big fight because our people were outnumbered.”

"How did they get into the building? What about the doorman? The cameras?”

“We don't know yet.”

"How did they stop them from taking her?"

“Your . . . girl is a warrior. She fought as long as she could, which gave one of our men time to warn the others, but when they got there, the invaders managed to escape. As for their identity, I'm pretty sure they came at the sheik's order.”

“How hurt is she?”

“She’s got scratches on her face and arms because she fell when she struggled to free herself from her attackers, but I can't be sure about the rest. I'm with her, but she refuses to talk to me.”

“Take her to my apartment. It's not safe to leave her there or in a hotel.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah. Say it's a direct order from me.”

“I don't think she'll listen to me.”

“Put her on the phone.”

“I will try . . .”

“Give her the fucking phone, Grigori.”

It seems like an eternity before I finally hear her voice. “Odin?” I can feel her insecurity in that one word.

“Elina, I need you to listen to me. You cannot stay there. I want you to go with Grigori to my apartment. I'll be there in no more than two hours.”

“I don't want to leave here. I don't know if I can trust this man.”

“You have my word that you can trust him. Now do what I'm asking. I will see you soon.”

She takes a while to answer but finally says, “I'll wait for you.”

“I'll enjoy having you waiting for me. Now tell me if you're hurt.”

“No . . . I don't think so. Except that my face is burning.”

“Pack a bag and go to my apartment. I'll meet you in a little while.”

“Okay.”

“Can you hand the phone back to Grigori?”

She doesn't say goodbye, which shows me how shaken she is. Despite her temper, Elina always behaves like a lady.

“Make sure she arrives safely at my house. Have them check it first. Then place men not only at the entrance of the building but also at the door of my private elevator and stairs. Put fucking Spider-Man guarding the windows if you have to, but no one shall approach her again.”