Page 96 of Beyond Enemy Vows

Stavros waves me over with the casual gesture of a king summoning a servant and points to the chair the man was just in. "Sit."

As I approach, he reaches for a wooden box on the side table. He selects a cigar and briefly examines it before clipping the end and lighting it.

Finally, with the cigar clamped between his teeth, he looks across at me. "To what do I owe the visit?"

I take the seat across from him, maintaining eye contact. It's just like my father to act as if our last meeting never happened. Like he didn't pull a gun and press it to my head. Like the threats to kill the woman I love were never spoken.

The old me would have called him out, refused to let him get away with it. But I learned long ago that approach never works. He always finds a way to twist things, to make me the one in the wrong. Over time it became easier to just let it go, focus on more important things.

Like the woman carrying my child.

I pause for a moment, then think,fuck this.Better to just say it.

"There's something you need to know."

Stavros takes a long draw from his cigar, letting the smoke curl between us like a barrier. A slight grin comes across his face. "Hard to believe we live in a world where you're telling me something I don't already know."

The arrogance in his voice makes my teeth grind, but I push through it. This isn't about wounded pride.

"Calli's pregnant," I say, leaning forward slightly, "and the baby is mine."

He turns to stone. The cigar pauses halfway to his lips, smoke drifting forgotten between his fingers, ash building at its tip. He says nothing as seconds stretch into something unbearable.

I brace myself for the explosion. My fingers slide closer to the edge of my jacket, closer to where my gun rests. This is where he loses his shit. Where he starts screaming about bloodlines and betrayal and?—

He smiles.

"Well," he says, finally tapping the cigar into the ashtray, "that changes things."

I stare at him, trying to process what I'm seeing. Where's the rage? Where are the threats? This isn't the reaction I expected, and that alone puts me on edge.

He stands and moves to the bar cart in the corner and pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. He doesn't offer me one.

He takes a sip, eyes never leaving the glass.

"A child between you and a Kastaris creates new opportunities. Not the union I imagined, mind you, but deeper alliances I'd hoped to have gained with your cousin's marriage, but thatdidn't materialize how I wanted." He nods to himself, taking another sip. "Yes, Ares won't have a fucking choice now."

The casual way he talks about my unborn child as a business asset makes my blood run cold, but I keep my expression neutral. "You're not angry?"

Stavros gives a false laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. "Angry? Niko, please. What's done is done. This is leverage. And soon, a legacy."

He walks to the window, gazing out, thinking. His voice remains calm, conversational, which somehow makes it more unsettling than if he were screaming.

"Do her brothers know?"

"Yes, they do," I say, my eyes scanning the room, him, for any signs of men grabbing me again.

"And you're still here." He turns back to face me. "Did they happen to say anything to you?"

I think,Yeah, that you fucking killed their dad and they want you dead for it,but I keep my expression neutral, not revealing my hand. Not yet anyway.

"Not really," I lie smoothly, rubbing the cheek Dimitri punched. "They were upset. Stunned. Calli is convinced they will come around, with the baby and all."

"And do you believe that?"

I don't answer.

He returns to his chair, settling back into the leather with the satisfaction of a man who's just been handed exactly what he wanted.