Page 43 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ulysses

The plane touches down in Athens on Christmas Day, and I’m eager to get home—not only to see Olympia, but because I have Katla with me. Katla, who has proven to be every bit the volcano I hoped she was.

I very much want to take her to bed, lay her out on white sheets and spend a long time exploring every inch of her, because the sex on the plane was only an entree and I’m ready for the main course.

We could have done more while in the air—she certainly wanted to—but for once it was me baulking.

I want time and privacy for our next encounter and we had neither in the jet.

Also I need…some distance to make sure I keep my head—because when she sat astride me on the seat it made me forget every promise that I’d made to myself that this would be just about her.

I was already hard enough that it hurt. Then to have her sitting on me, the cotton of her knickers and the fabric of my trousers the only thing between my hard-on and her astonishing heat, her insisting on returning the orgasm favour…

I’m a man who likes control and I’ve never doubted my command over myself.

Yet she broke that control, snapped it as easily as an old rubber band.

It’s not a feeling I enjoy. It reminds me of when my mother died, and the state came to take my sister and me into care.

I was sixteen, a good boy, a rule-follower up to that point, and my certainty that we’d be placed together with kind foster parents was rock-solid.

And why not? It was the right thing to do and surely the state knew that?

Except the state didn’t know that and we weren’t placed together. No one wanted a sixteen-year-old boy, no matter how good he was, but a quiet ten-year-old girl was an easy sell. And no matter how much I argued, no matter how much I begged, we were split up,

It hurt to watch her get taken away and to know that nothing I did would make any difference. To feel such powerlessness, as the love I felt for her ravaged my soul. It was something I never wanted to experience ever again.

So I turned that love into fury, and it changed me. It made me realise that the only way I could get Olympia back was not to be the boy I once was—the boy who waited for the good things to be given to him. Instead I became a man who took what he wanted, and what I wanted was my sister back.

It was fury that led me to the only way a boy like me could gain enough money and power to rescue her and that was in the criminal underworld.

Four years later, I had one of my associates keeping tabs on the foster parents who had her.

The ‘father’ was scum of the earth, the ‘mother’ little better; they were only in it for the money they got having a foster kid.

I was an enforcer for the most powerful crime families in Athens, and by then I had enough clout to organise a raid on the foster parents.

We got her back, but not without cost. She was afraid of me when I first got her back to the terrible apartment I was living in at the time, and she had every right to be.

I’d done things that no good man should ever do.

And, worse than that, I didn’t see anything wrong with what I was doing or with the path I was on.

Then she told me she couldn’t stay with me, that I was no better than the people who’d hurt her, and I knew then that I had to change once again.

I’d left behind the sweet kid who did what his mother told him, and now it was time to leave behind the criminal enforcer.

I became yet another man— I left the feral warrior behind and became the knight, protective, just and honourable.

At least, I managed the first one; I’m still working on the last two.

I’m not perfect, not by any stretch, and when I doubt my actions I think of Olympia and what she would say to me, and I do things differently because of that.

Except for one thing: I will do anything to keep her safe, anything at all.

No one will ever take her from me again and that has been my guiding principle ever since I got her back.

It’s what my entire life has been about.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been at the mercy of anyone or anything, but up in the air with Katla in my lap, having just watched her come so beautifully under my hand, I took what she offered without a single second thought.

And, my God, those moments inside her, feeling her heat squeeze tight…

It tests me even to remember it. But I can’t be an animal here in the house I share with my sister.

I must be circumspect. So, first I need to see Olympia and apologise for my absence the night before.

My driver pulls into the driveway of the villa I own in Glyfada, on the Athenian Riviera.

It’s huge, with two stories and six bedrooms, built in the traditional way, white washed and square as it faces the sea.

There are stone terraces, gardens and olive groves as well as a big pool area with a hot tub.

It’s a beautiful day for December, with the sun shining, and the sea is its usual brilliant, translucent blue, washing the air with salt as I shepherd Katla inside. My staff all have Christmas leave, so I’m not expecting my housekeeper Elena to be around, but I am expecting my sister.

She should be in the living area, perhaps putting a few last presents under the tree there.

I don’t care about a tree myself, but I put one up for her because she loves it.

The tree usually has silver and gold tinsel wound around it, and other decorations of many kinds.

I buy her a new Christmas ornament every year and this year, while I was in Munich, I bought a delicate, shimmering silver reindeer that I think she’ll love.

Yet as I show Katla into the entrance hallway, and close the door after us, my first warning that something’s amiss is the utter silence. With the staff being absent, I’m not too concerned, but then as I stride into the living area with Katla at my heels the silence starts to feel…ominous.

‘Wait here,’ I instruct Katla tersely, then without another word I leave the living area and make my way upstairs to check Olympia’s bedroom. She’s not there, which is puzzling. As I walk back downstairs, I text her in case she’s outside or somewhere else in the house.

Normally she’s responsive to texts, and always replies promptly because she knows I worry about her.

I have enemies, naturally, so she never goes anywhere without her security detail, and I’m always very strict with her about that.

On public holidays, she usually stays home, because she doesn’t like the staff to have to give up a day’s leave for her, so I’d be surprised if she’s gone out somewhere.

In the living area, Katla is still standing by the Christmas tree and looking up at it, eyes wide, oblivious to my growing concern. I call my head of security to find out where Olympia might be, but he tells me that she didn’t order any detail for today.

Cold settles in my gut. She didn’t respond to my Christmas Eve apology, now that I think about it, but I didn’t worry because I thought she might have been annoyed with me and didn’t want to answer.

She has been more annoyed with me this past year, getting impatient with my over-protectiveness, but I thought we were over that.

Yet, with an empty house and no sign of her, I’m worried.

I call her, but there’s no reply. It goes straight to voicemail.

Katla turns from the tree, her dark-blue eyes narrowing as she takes me in.

She’s sensing my growing agitation, no doubt, but I keep it contained and force a smile.

‘There are four spare bedrooms upstairs and they all have en suites ,’ I tell her.

‘Pick one and get some rest. My sister’s room is up there too and she won’t mind if you need to borrow some clothes.

She has far too many for one woman as it is. ’

I want her to nod and take herself off up the stairs so I don’t have an audience for my deepening concern, and the fury that often accompanies it, but she doesn’t move. She only gives me her direct, piercing stare. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.

My smile feels more fixed with each passing second, but I keep it in place. This is not her concern. ‘Nothing,’ I say, my voice carefully casual. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

But she still doesn’t move, scanning my face, her forehead creasing. ‘What is it, Ulysses?’

The way she says my name makes me automatically think of her saying it as she came, her voice husky and thick with the pleasure I gave her, and an arrow of heat shoots clean through my worry, as though it wasn’t there.

I ignore it. Sex is not what I need right now.

Right now I need to find out where my sister is, and quickly, and I don’t have the time or patience to explain to Katla what the issue is.

So I shake my head, turn and stride from the living room, walking quickly down the hallway to my office at the other end of the villa where I’ll have some privacy to make a few calls.

However, a quick ten minutes of speaking to various employees and associates doesn’t make the reason for Olympia’s absence any clearer.

She’s been at home the past week, apparently, but went out on Christmas Eve.

She told Elena that she had a few errands to run and would be back later that evening.

Yet she then texted to say she’d be later than she thought, and not to wait for her, so Elena went home.

The security detail that went with Olympia was also dismissed by her that evening.

However, some time after that, she disappeared and no one knows where she went or why.

I stand in my office, staring sightlessly out of the window at the pines that grow close to the house, a ball of cold fear and fury collecting inside me.

I have many enemies—I can’t live the kind of life I’ve lived without earning more than a few—and I’ve always been conscious that Olympia is a potential target.

That’s why I keep her close and well protected.

And, while her disappearance could be innocuous, I don’t think it is.

In fact, I’m sure it’s not, which means that now I’ll have to overturn the entire world looking for her.

I can’t lose her—I can’t. I swore to protect her all those years ago, promising her that she’d never have to go through the horror of what she experienced with that abusive foster family again.

I promised that I’d keep her safe. Breaking that promise is unthinkable, unconscionable, and, by God, if anything’s happened to her someone will pay …

A million plans turn over in my head and I’m busy sorting through them when my phone vibrates in my hand. I look down at the screen and the world stops spinning for a moment.

It’s Olympia.

I hit ‘accept’ and raise the phone to my ear. ‘Where the hell are you?’ I growl at her in Greek. ‘You didn’t answer my texts and—’

‘Don’t get angry, Ulysses,’ Olympia interrupts, the sound of her clear, sweet voice sending relief spilling through me. ‘There are a few things I need to say to you.’

‘Where are you?’ I snap, my relief now turning to anger. ‘Why aren’t you at home?’

‘Listen to me,’ she says, blatantly ignoring my questions, which only infuriates me more. ‘I have something to tell you.’

My fist closes hard on the piece of technology in my hand. ‘What?’ I demand, graceless now with all the fury, fear and relief mixing like acid in my stomach.

‘I…can’t spend Christmas with you.’

She sounds unsure and there is trepidation in her voice. I go very still, listening intently. ‘Is everything all right?’ I try to keep my voice calm. ‘Are you in danger? What’s going on, Olympia?’

‘No, I’m not in any danger,’ she says, and this sounds much more firm and convincing. ‘So you can stand down the battle stations.’

I grit my teeth at her flippant comment. ‘You sounded afraid.’

There’s a long silence down the other end of the phone and then I hear her release a breath. ‘Look, I really am safe, Ulysses. I’m not in danger at all. I just…can’t come to you right now. I’ve got a few things I need to sort out.’

This does not make me feel any better. ‘What things? Come home, Olympia. I have presents for you and the tree—’

‘I know, I know.’ She mutters a filthy curse that I had no idea she even knew, then goes on. ‘I didn’t want to have to tell you like this.’

‘Tell me what?’ I’m furious, worried and frustrated and none of this is helping. ‘I’ll come to you, then, and we can have a face-to-face chat.’

‘No,’ she says, a surprising hint of steel entering her voice.

Surprising, because normally Olympia lets me coddle and cosset her.

She likes it when I’m protective—or at least she did.

Lately, I admit, she’s been more impatient with it.

‘I’m not going to tell you where I am or who I’m with, because then you’ll start looking for me, and I don’t need that drama, okay? ’

I don’t listen, because of course the ‘who I’m with’ has got stuck in my brain.

She’s with someone, and I bet I’m not going to like who that someone is.

In fact, I’m don’t like anything about this entire situation.

‘Tell me where you are, Olympia,’ I order tersely, my tone hard. ‘I won’t ask again.’

‘Ulysses,’ she says, ignoring me, ‘I’m pregnant.’

For a second all my fury is drowned beneath a waterfall of icy shock, and all I can do is stare out through the window, my mind utterly blank. ‘Pregnant?’ I echo as if I have no idea what the word means. ‘What?’

‘You’re going to be an uncle,’ Olympia says, a thread of something I can’t identify entering her voice. ‘It’s early days, but I wanted you to know, and I didn’t want you to worry about me. I’m with the father and I’m safe, but please, please don’t come looking for me.’

Suddenly I hear the sound of another voice down the phone. It’s deeper, definitely male and Olympia is arguing with him, which immediately sends me into overdrive. I’m about to shout down the phone at her when I hear the man speak, his Greek impeccable, his accent Italian.

‘She’s with me, Zakynthos,’ he says curtly. ‘Rafael Santangelo. And I’m the father of her child. Merry Christmas, motherfucker.’

Then he ends the call.