Page 109 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8

Carmel slumped in her chair, mind racing. There was no satisfaction in the irony of her father needing the very clinic their family had funded to take care of her, but she had a sense she ought to be with him, even though he’d never supported her when she’d been in there.

“I should have picked up your call.” Atlas had texted this morning saying, It’s important , but she’d ignored it. “Why didn’t you say it was about him?”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s better if you’re off-grid and not linked to it.”

“They’ll drag me into it anyway,” she said darkly.

“They’ll try,” he agreed. “That’s why I wanted to warn you. And be sure you were protected from ambush.” He looked at Damian. “I’m concerned that we were able to drive right in.”

“Complacency on my part,” Damian said. “Things are usually very quiet here. I’ll have the staff start locking the gate.”

“That doesn’t always stop them,” Atlas said with a dissatisfied curl of his lip. “You’re welcome to join us on the yacht,” he said to Carmel.

Which was when she saw this visit for what it really was.

“Oh, my Gawd , this is a rescue mission.” She sent Stella a glare of exasperation. “Can’t you control him?”

“You’re funny,” Stella said mildly.

“It’s only a rescue mission if you need it to be,” Atlas said. “Do you?”

“ No. How many times do I have to say I’m fine?”

“You’re staying here, then?” Atlas asked. “For how long?”

“If I answer that, can Damian grill Stella on your relationship?” she challenged.

“Damian can ask me anything he likes,” Stella said with a warm smile across the table.

“I’m curious what the protocol is,” Damian said to Stella. “Do we sit back and watch the show? How long does it usually go on?”

“Great question. I find it’s best to wait it out, but a bit of misdirection can help. Oh. Before I forget.” She touched Carmel’s arm. “I brought a bag of books for you. They’re in the car we rented.”

“Really?” Carmel sat up with eagerness before she heard the men snort and realized she’d fallen straight into the trap. “I thought you were my friend, Stella.”

Stella laughed and leaned over to hug her.

“Kyrie?” Lethe came out with a mezze platter of olives and grapes, cherry tomatoes and artichoke hearts, squares of feta, dolmades, wedges of pita and various dips. “Pirro said you wanted to speak with the winemaker the next time he was at the shed. Should I tell him you have guests?”

“I’d rather speak to him today. Care to walk up with me?” Damian invited Atlas.

“I’d like that. I’m curious about your operation.” Atlas rose.

“Why do I get the feeling only one of you will come back?” Carmel looked between them. “We’ll just sit here and talk about our moon cycles, then?”

“Do you want to come with us?” Damian asked.

“In this heat? Not twice in one day, thank you.” It was a deliberate reminder of their tryst earlier.

He squeezed her shoulder in response. “We’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

To say he felt threatened by Atlas turning up here was inaccurate.

Damian was prickling with possessiveness and a sense of trespass, but there was something else underlying it. Guilt, perhaps. Sleeping with the woman who was his wife was not a crime, but sleeping with Carmel when they planned to divorce put him on a more defensive footing.

He wasn’t surprised her brother was projecting a heavy attitude of “what are your intentions?” He was irritated by it, though. Mostly because he didn’t have a clear answer.

He had promised to sign Carmel’s papers once Zoia went into surgery.

He considered himself a man of his word, but he wasn’t allowing himself to think beyond getting Zoia to Athens.

They were taking her across on Sunday, so she could settle in her private room and be prepped for the surgery on Monday.

By Tuesday, he would have a better idea of her outcome.

Then he would consider his own future and how much it might intersect with Carmel’s.

“We’re looking for something like this on Syros,” Atlas mentioned as they hiked through the olive grove. “That’s where I spent my childhood.”

“Zoia’s cottage is on a small plot that was in my grandfather’s family for generations.

” Damian pointed out the surrounding tracts of land he’d purchased as they became available.

“Carmel calls me a gentleman farmer for buying up all these groves and pastures, but I’m really just expanding my buffer zone. ”

“Because you like your privacy?” The corner of Atlas’s mouth dug in with knowing humor. “You’re entitled to it. So is Carmel. Her love life is between her and her diary, but she needed to hear about Oliver from me.”

“Does she need to go to him?” Damian braced himself. Regardless of their deal or his profound dislike of the man, he wouldn’t stand between her and her father.

“That’s up to her.” Atlas’s expression tightened.

“I hope she doesn’t. I’ve never respected him enough to care what he thinks of me, but he knows how to play her.

When I spoke to him, he tried telling me it was my fault he chose to drive drunk, that it wouldn’t have happened if Carmel and I hadn’t sided against him at DVE.

Carmel has blocked him or he would have pulled her into this already.

She desperately wants to believe he’s redeemable. ”

“And your interference between them has nothing to do with the fortune you stand to inherit if you’re on his good side and she isn’t?” Damian asked.

“I don’t need his money.” Atlas didn’t flinch or even glance at him, only continued walking up the hill at the same steady pace.

“Neither does she. But I wondered if you might encourage her to mend fences with him, since her fortune was the reason you married her.” Now he turned his head, but the sunlight only glinted off his sunglasses. “Or so Oliver told me at the time.”

“I can’t defend myself against that,” Damian said grimly. “It’s not untrue. But it wasn’t as cold-blooded as that sounds, either. Carmel wanted to access funds from her mother. I saw a means to accelerate what I thought was our joint future.”

“And when Oliver denied her that fortune, you split up, but you never divorced her. Why’s that?”

Because she’s mine. It was far too primal and sexist a thing to say aloud, but it sat in him as truth.

“That information is need to know,” he said instead. “You don’t.”

“Did you separate because of her drinking?”

“No,” Damian said with surprise. “I didn’t actually know how much of a problem she had. We were young and met while she was on vacation. Too young to marry anyone, least of all someone we’d known for less than a week.”

They were coming into earshot of the people hovering around the winemaking shed so he switched gears, pointing out the two different varietals, then introduced Atlas to the winemaker and the rest of the workers.

“Carmel suggested I look into making nonalcoholic wine,” he told the winemaker. It was an emerging market and something Carmel thought could differentiate his small winery from the other boutique labels here in Greece.

The winemaker was eager to experiment, so Damian gave him the go-ahead to make some trial batches.

“Does that mean she’s planning to be here long enough to try it?” Atlas asked once they were walking back to the villa.

“She doesn’t trust herself to drink alcohol substitutes.” It was a nonanswer. They both knew it.

“Everything I’ve read about you leads me to believe you’re a decent person.

I’ve made it my business to read extensively about you,” Atlas added with dark humor.

“Carmel no longer plays the blame game. If she has a stumble, she owns it. I’m not saying you caused her problems with alcohol.

It started long before she met you, and the reasons for it are very complex.

She’s worked hard to get to where she doesn’t fall back on drinking as a coping strategy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be knocked off her stride, especially if she’s hurt.

Things were not good five years ago, Damian.

” His voice turned grave. “I don’t relish seeing her like that again. ”

A chill moved into Damian’s chest. “You think I’m toxic to her? Like your father?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here, checking up.”

They finished the walk in silence and arrived to find the women had moved to the loungers. They sat sideways on them, facing each other, both surrounded by paperback romance novels.

“All finished with your measuring contest?” Carmel didn’t look up from the back of the book she was reading.

Stella moved a couple of books so Atlas could sit beside her. He braced his hand behind her and let her braid slither through the fingers of his other hand.

“I told Carmel that we brought our suits in case we found a beach and wanted to swim. She said we don’t need them if we go down those stairs.” Stella pointed.

“I’m game if you are, agapi mou . You’re the shy one between us.”

“She’s misquoting me. I said we’d join you,” Carmel said.

“With paparazzi about to hunt her like an escaped fugitive.” Stella turned her head so she was nose to nose with Atlas. “Can you imagine the headlines if they caught the four of us down there like a bunch of pagans?”

“It’s called taking control of the narrative, Stella.” Carmel looked at Damian over her sunglasses and winked.

“Swim here.” Damian waved at the pool. Carmel was obviously enjoying her sister-in-law’s company, and maybe Atlas would be reassured that she was, in fact, better than fine. She was happy here with him. Wasn’t she? “Stay for dinner. Zoia likes to eat early, but I’m sure she’d enjoy fresh company.”

Zoia was tickled to have the exalted company of a gold medal champion, and she quickly warmed to Stella.

Who didn’t? Stella had a background in hospitality.

She was a grand master when it came to engaging people in lighthearted conversation.

Even Damian had been drawn into telling stories about his roofing days and how he got started in solar panels, then describing some of his ambitions for the future.

Atlas and Stella didn’t stay long after dinner, though.

“We’ve imposed on you long enough,” Atlas said to Damian, shaking his hand.

“Yes, you’ve been very gracious, letting us crash your corner of paradise. Thank you for dinner,” Stella said. “I hope Zoia’s surgery goes well.”

Zoia had told them what she was in for.

“Thank you. Me too,” Damian said.

“Text if you need anything,” Atlas told Carmel. “We’ll be back in Athens on the weekend. Come stay at the apartment if you want to.” He issued that invitation to Carmel, but flicked his gaze to include Damian.

The men hadn’t bonded like blood brothers, but they had found enough to talk about from business and sports to island politics that they had each other’s respect.

“Thank you for inviting them to stay,” Carmel said when they entered the villa after they were gone. “Was he rude to you when you walked up to the wine shed?”

“He gave me the courtesy of speaking plainly,” Damian said blithely.

“Oof. That sounds awful. What did he say exactly?”

Damian seemed to debate a moment, then said, “He’s worried you might go see your father and what could happen if you do.” He watched her closely as he relayed that.

“So am I,” she admitted, pacing across the stone tiles of the lounge.

“That’s why I was glad to have them here all afternoon, distracting me from wondering if I should reach out.

Daddy never called me while I was in rehab.

Or boarding school. He never really cared where I was or what I was doing.

That doesn’t make it right for me to ignore him in his time of need, though. ”

“Atlas said he was already trying to pin the blame on you and Atlas because you worked against him at DVE.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. But guess what?

I thought the entire world was against me for years and never once drove drunk.

He deserves to sit there and think about what he’s done,” she muttered, feeling guilty nonetheless.

She was going to need a long session with her therapist to work through this one.

“What about sending him a message?” Damian suggested. “Do you know anyone on staff? Maybe they could relay something. That way you’re not giving him an avenue to respond.”

“Do I know anyone on staff,” she scoffed. “We have a group chat where we share obscene and tasteless memes. But that’s an excellent idea. Thank you.” She moved across to hug him. “Do you mind if I do it now? To get everything I want to say out of my head?”

He gave a be my guest wave toward the stairs.

She let go and started to turn away, but turned back.

“Was that all he said? Because you seem… I don’t know.” She tilted her head, trying to read his expression. He was as unreadable as he’d been the whole time Atlas and Stella had been here. “Pensive?”

Damian played his finger in the tendril of hair that fell from her temple, then let his fist rest on her shoulder, looking as though he was going to say something.

“It can wait,” he said, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go write your letter. I want to walk down and make sure Pirro secured the gate.”

She was a little disgruntled by that, but her mind really was spinning with everything she wanted to stay to her father. She nodded and ran up the stairs.