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Eight

L EON

Camera flashes stabbed through the evening haze as my driver guided the ebony sedan to a halt along the drive to the side of the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Cultural Center.

A breeze scented with jasmine and limestone drifted around us, keeping the night from feeling too balmy and humid.

Above us, the opera house’s broad structure loomed large in the moonlit sky.

It had been designed to bring culture and history to the masses. On any other night, children ran carefree around the water features decorating the front exterior of the center, and the massive food court bustled with locals and tourists trying out various types of cuisines .

Tonight was different altogether. This was an invitation-only event with high security and guards at every point. There were no other events in the center but this one.

The gala, publicized as a fundraiser for children’s education, felt less like charity and more like a contest of opulence.

Crystal lighting glowed behind tall, sheer curtains billowing in front of windows, illuminating tables weighted with vintage champagne and tiers of silver candelabras.

Guests poured through the entrance in waves: film stars draped in silken gowns, monarchs sporting jeweled orders across their chests, magnates whose names flickered across global headlines.

Inside, power and money coalesced in every gesture. Silk dresses caught the glow of crystal drops, and bespoke tuxedos fit shoulders like armor. Perfumes layered the air, amber, sandalwood, rare oriental blends, while voices traded gilded gossip in dozens of languages.

The crowd formed a living mosaic of influence, each face turned toward the next possibility: a handshake, an alliance, a rumor waiting to be wielded.

I slipped past a cluster of financiers arguing tax reform and made for the shadowy edge of the grand foyer, officially known as “the Book Castle.”

I lingered by a tall, exposed metal and concrete column artistically designed for aesthetic beauty and structural necessity, fingers curled around a slender flute of champagne, scanning the room for Cali. During our last exchange, she told me she would arrive with her sisters and their husbands.

Our private phone conversations had grown into something I measured in hours, then minutes of anticipation.

The texts were a mix of spirited debates on market volatility, heated discussions about geopolitical tensions, and everything in between.

We had a spark I’d never felt among polished socialites or career politicians.

Disagreement only deepened our respect for each other, every point countered with care, every concession weighed against principle.

However, none of the bonds we’d developed could spill over here. Every message we ever shared remained secured behind locked encryption. In our world, spies lurked everywhere, and nothing stayed secret without intent.

Knowing that only Cali and I shared the secret of our blossoming friendship filled me with a thrill of conspiratorial delight. It was a bond that felt intimate, as if we were both in on something special.

As I navigated through the sea of reporters and photographers gathered near the elevator banks, my gaze swept over each face, searching for those mesmerizing, jeweled eyes that had lingered in my thoughts since our first encounter.

Most likely, she was on the rooftop, called “the Lighthouse,” of the building where the main event would take place. But once I reached the rooftop, a crowd of elegantly dressed guests continued to block my view.

Despite the challenge, I wove through the throng with determination, each step driven by my desire to find Cali.

The truth was, my primary reason for attending this event was to see her, though I intended to keep that to myself.

In one corner, I noticed Avra and Laya Vitalis, surrounded by their husbands and a cadre of security personnel, engrossed in conversation with a group of equally striking women. I scanned their gathering, but Cali was nowhere in sight.

With a sigh, I paused and let the crowd flow around me.

I remembered Cali’s words about her distaste for these extravagant parties, with their superficial chatter and ostentatious displays of wealth. She mentioned only attending events like these because they were for a good cause and brought in large amounts of money for charities.

More than likely, she found a nice hiding spot to avoid the crowds. Looked as if I would have to find it.

A three-hundred-sixty-degree wrap-around open terrace framed the main dining room. It gave breathtaking views of the park surrounding the center and of Athens itself.

Somewhere out there seemed a likely place for Calista to escape.

I made my way to the veranda and found the party had overflowed into the open air, guests mingling with drinks in hand while servers navigated through with trays of high-end champagne.

I scanned the area, including every corner, and Calista wasn’t anywhere.

Maybe she was in the parks below. I frowned, knowing I’d have to fight the crowds and elevators once again, but made my way down.

Once I reached the main floor near the Book Castle, I took a shortcut down a hallway with the closest opening into the park.

I descended a short set of stairs and walked around a tall set of bushes.

Just as I reached another grouping, a man’s voice drifted from a gathering of tall trees, halting me in my tracks.

“Your family needs me,” he declared. “You need to make your choice soon.”

I paused, waiting to hear if there was someone who needed my help.

“Out of everyone, you and I both know I’m the best husband for you, Calista. Nobody else can provide what your family needs. We should announce our engagement tonight.”

His words wrapped around me like a tightening noose, igniting a volcanic rage ready to explode.

Rumors had circulated that Dominic Lucianos might be the other suitor Cali was considering, but hearing it confirmed was another matter altogether.

And the way he spoke, dripping with entitlement and arrogance, made me nervous. Dominic was notorious for his overbearing nature, a man used to getting his way, particularly regarding women. Perhaps this was why the self-centered asshole remained single.

But there was no way in hell I would stand by and allow him to bully Calista like that.

I rushed in their direction just as Calista responded, “That’s not going to happen, Dominic.”

She faced him head-on, her posture a picture of defiance, her chin tilted upward with a mixture of irritation and strength.

In that moment, she looked more stunning than ever.

Her blond hair was elegantly swept up with a few curls playfully caressing her cheeks, revealing her graceful neck and shoulders.

Her strapless dress hugged her figure, accentuating her curves, and her cleavage seemed poised to spill over at any moment.

“Your attempts to corner and intimidate me are doing nothing to help your case.”

My heart soared at her words, and I slowed my pace. She could take care of herself, and it might not be necessary for me to step in.

“I can tell you now that I won’t be choosing you.”

A grin tugged at my lips, satisfaction bubbling up at her rebuff.

But Dominic’s reaction was far from pleased.

With a sudden, forceful grip, he seized her upper arm, yanking her closer, his face twisted in a sneer as he growled, “Not so fast, Calista.”

I sprinted into action, closing the distance between us in just a few strides.

My shoulder crashed into Dominic’s chest, and he staggered back.

I pivoted, guiding Calista behind me, my arm braced across her shoulders.

Dominic’s hand remained locked on her arm, his fingers curling like iron bands.

Heat roared through my veins, each heartbeat hammering against my ribs. My fists balled at my sides, knuckles whitening, every vein in my neck throbbing. Blood pounded so loudly I could almost hear the echo on the paved path .

Calista’s breath caught. “Leon!” she whispered, voice trembling through the tension crackling in the air.

Dominic sneered, mouth curling into a cruel smile. “What the fuck are you doing, Boscos?”

The world sharpened around us: Calista’s pale cheek, the grit on Dominic’s jaw, the distant hum of traffic. Every second stretched. I counted, torn between ripping him apart and waiting for her word.

A single fingertip pressed against my forearm—Calista’s touch, light as a feather, firm enough to stop me in my tracks. I looked down, and her gaze met mine.

Her emerald eyes held something resolute, and even as her chest rose and fell, I knew.

“He’s not worth it,” she said, jaw set. “I’ve made my decision.”

The certainty in her voice cut through the rage knotting my gut.

Dominic released Calista and waited as if she had chosen him.

Idiot .

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “You heard her, Dominic. Now it’s time you leave.”

“Mind your own business, Boscos. This doesn’t concern you.” He jabbed a finger into my chest, causing me to stagger back a step.

It was clear he hadn’t bothered to gather any information. If he had, he would have known I was in the running as well. Just as I was about to reveal this crucial detail, Calista’s voice cut through the tension, leaving me momentarily speechless.

“It does. Leon is my fiancé.”

My heart swelled with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

But I could dwell on her declaration later; right now, ensuring her safety was my top priority.

“You heard her.” I raised my chin, challenging the jerk to go ahead and test me. “Leave now before I make you regret your very existence, Lucianos.”

He let out a low, menacing growl, and his face twisted into a sneer directed at both of us before he turned and stormed off while muttering curses under his breath.

“You’ll fucking regret this,” he spat, his voice growing fainter with each step.

I stayed alert, making sure he didn’t turn back, before shifting my focus to Cali, my heart pounding with concern.

“Cali, are you okay?” I scanned her from head to toe to ensure she was unharmed.

“I am now,” she replied, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “Thank you for stepping in and getting rid of that asshole.”

“Of course.” A sense of relief washed over me. “I’m just glad I was here.”

“Me too,” she said with a smile, her fingers intertwining with mine.

If emotions could burst, my heart would have done so at that moment. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, looking down in wonder at the woman who would soon become my wife .

Could this be happening?

Was it possible that I was this fortunate?

I wasn’t entirely sure if she had merely said those words to drive Lucianos away, but I couldn’t deny how much I liked hearing them. The warmth of her hand in mine suggested that perhaps, just perhaps, she had truly chosen me.