Page 77 of Beyond Enemy Vows

This isn't security. This is surveillance.

I get inside and everything looks as I left it. I pour myself a strong glass of whiskey and walk to the window, staring out at the city. Somewhere across the ocean is Calli, silent and unreachable. And here in Athens, my father's men now seem to be watching my every move.

The pieces don't fit together yet, my father's men, Calli's sudden departure. The timing is too perfect to be coincidence.

I down the drink, hoping for a stronger burn than it gives me.

If my father is involved somehow…

I pull out my phone and try Calli again. Voicemail.

"I'm back in Greece," I say after the beep. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm going to find out. If you're in trouble, if someone's threatening you, I'll fix it. Just... call me."

I hang up and can't shake it now. Every instinct in me says she's not safe. That whatever pulled her away from Rome had nothing to do with her wanting to leave me.

Could my father have had someone watching us? Could he have sent word to her? Forced her to leave?

The thought sends a cold rage through me, but I push it down. I need clarity, not emotion.

I could get on a plane to Chicago. Just show up. Find her myself. It would be a bold move, one that could put me and maybe her at risk, but the alternative, this spiraling torture of silence, is becoming unbearable.

The image of my father calling Calli, speaking to her in that cold, calculated way he has, makes my blood boil. She would have been terrified. She would have run.

The anger burns hot in my gut again, curling tighter until I can barely sit still.

No.

I'm not just going to sit here wondering.

I'll pay him a visit.

Feel him out.

See if I can get anything, a slip, a tell, a hint that he's behind this.

And if I find out he's behind this?

He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet.

25

NIKO

The Petrou estate comes into view like a black hole, swallowing what little patience I've got left. The driver slows at the gates, and the iron bars creak open on command.

I've told myself all the way here to play it cool. Make this look like a routine check-in, not an interrogation. If my father knows nothing about why Calli left Rome, I walk out. If he knows something, I'll get it out of him.

But the moment the car pulls up, I know this isn't going to be a casual visit.

There are more guards than usual. Three at the front steps alone, all armed, eyes tracking me as I climb out of the car. The air smells like rain on asphalt, and that oppressive energy this place has always had presses down on me.

I walk inside, and a maid scurries across my path, eyes down, shoulders hunched. She doesn't acknowledge me. None of them do unless directly addressed. My father's training.

I follow the familiar path to his study, my mind clear on the mission. I can't help but notice the house feels different today. I count four guards in the house when there would normally be two. Fewer staff visible, too.

I walk into his office in my usual no-knocking way.

He's sitting behind the desk, a cigar resting in an ashtray beside him, smoke curling up. His eyes are on a tablet.