Page 170 of Malicious Claim

The jet engines roared to life, the vibration of its hum thrumming beneath their feet.

Leila curled her fingers into fists, nails digging into her hand. It began slowly, a low ache at the base of her skull, and then grew out of control, sinking further into her being.

By the time they were in the air, it had fully seized her, circled around her ribcage, gripped her belly, and made her feel nauseous.

"Mak—"

Before she could speak, her body turned on her. She staggered forward, and before she knew it, she was throwing up at his feet.

Heat flooded her face. Her heart raced with instant fear and embarrassment. Her brain spun and she tried to catch up with what had just happened. She wanted to apologize, to vanish, but the nausea still lingered in her stomach.

Makros didn't flinch. His face relaxed as he reached for her, his hand gently resting on her back.

"Hey, it's alright," he whispered gently in a remarkably level tone. "You're okay. Didn't realize you got airsick."

He motioned to Susi, who retrieved a bag and handed it to him. He leaned back down to her level. "Here, use this. Can we get her some water?"

Leila was still struggling to catch her breath, her face flushed with humiliation. But Makros didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Instead, he focused entirely on her, his concern more evident than the mess she'd just made.

"Take a breath," he said softly. "You'll be alright."

For a moment, Leila couldn't bring herself to look at him, but when she did, she saw only patience. And something she couldn't define. It was unsettling.

She looked away, out the window, and watched the clouds stretch out endlessly outside the glass.

Throughout the flight, she was sick but Makros held her and tended to her with no trace of irritation.

The aircraft landed in Greece, and relief flooded Leila. As she stepped off the jet, she admired the city's beauty. The setting sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light.

She took a moment to take it all in before getting into the backseat with Makros. Nicolai drove them away from the runway, and Leila relaxed, happy to be in a car again.

The road wound up a hill, leading to Makros' estate. The house stood at the top, just as grand as she had imagined. Lush gardens lined the driveway, and marble steps led up to the massive front doors.

They arrived in a spacious courtyard, where several luxury cars were parked. Nicolai pulled up near the entrance, and a woman stepped forward to greet them.

"This is Sofia Georgiou," Makros said. "She'll take care of anything you need while we're here."

Leila studied Sofia. The woman smiled politely, but her eyes held a flicker of hesitation, as if she were sizing her up. Leila had seen that look before, whether it was fear, curiosity, or something else, she wasn't sure.

Makros motioned to two men standing behind Nicolai. "You'll also be seeing a lot of Konstantinos. Kostas for short. And Andreas. They're my top men here."

Konstantinos was a well-built man with a sharp, calculating gaze. He gave Leila a short nod. Andreas was leaner but just as intimidating, and he watched her in silence. Both had tanned complexions, likely from spending time in the sun.

"Sofia, show my wife her room," Makros ordered.

Sofia hesitated. "Sir, um..." She glanced at him, as if unsure how to say what was on her mind.

Makros frowned, waiting. She leaned in slightly and whispered, "Your dead wife's belongings are still there."

"Oh," Makros muttered, realization dawned on him. He paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Take her there anyway. We'll clear them out gradually."

Adjusting to her new surroundings was already difficult, but nothing prepared Leila for her bedroom.

The room still belonged to someone else. The wardrobe was packed with clothes, and the vanity was covered with personal items including but not limited to lotions, perfumes, andmakeup that had clearly been used. It looked as if their owner might return at any moment.

Then her eyes landed on a framed photograph. Makros stood beside his wife, their boy child nestled between them. They looked happy. Whole. A sharp pang settled in Leila's chest.

"Damn him," she thought. "He's punishing me for their deaths by allowing me to see all this."