Page 29 of Slightly Married (Irresistible #2)

Irida surveyed the scene with displeasure as she looked from her son to me. “Why are you trying to kill each other?”

I straightened my shirt with a sharp tug, the fine cotton fabric now creased and damp with perspiration. “Matthaios has been in New York for the past several months and working for Michail,” I stated. My knee throbbed in protest of the recent exertion.

“Shut up!” Matthaios snarled, straining against Dimitrios’s hold.

Ignoring him, I continued. “He orchestrated a takeover of Athanasiou Maritime Holdings, then forced Michail out of his own company. He’s also been carrying on a relationship with Michail’s daughter.”

“His sister?” Santo inquired.

Matthaios rolled his eyes. “Simone is not Michail’s biological daughter. She was adopted.”

“How do you know?” Santo pressed, smirking despite being tethered to his father. “They could have had a relationship before—”

“You should keep quiet now,” Aristides advised his son.

His amused expression made it clear he recognized his son’s provocative tactic for the ill-timed mischief it was.

Matthaios made another move toward me but was blocked by Alexei’s substantial frame.

“Michail also knows that Matt is his son,” I finished, meeting my aunt’s shocked gaze directly.

“Kayla left me when she discovered I kept all of this a secret for—” I gestured toward my cousin with undisguised contempt, “—this self-serving asshole who should have taken his daddy issues to therapy instead of destroying lives in the process.”

Irida’s hand moved to her throat as if deeply distressed. “Is this true?” She asked her son.

Matthaios straightened, a muscle working in his jaw as he met his mother’s gaze. “Mama, I couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you,” he said, his voice softening. “He chose another man’s family and left you. I don’t regret taking everything he built.”

Mother moved forward, her small frame somehow commanding despite her stature.

“You will both clean this mess,” she stated.

“Then you will join us in the study to explain everything.” Her gaze shifted between us, brooking no argument.

“Your childish brawling solves nothing. This family has endured enough division.”

As she turned to leave, Irida following close behind, I glimpsed uncertainty in my cousin’s expression.

The forced cleanup became a spectator sport. Santo remained tethered to his father, but it didn’t diminish his obvious delight at our predicament. Aristides observed our humbling task with satisfaction while Dimitrios returned with a broom and dustpan, handing them to Matthaios.

“Don’t miss any pieces,” Santo called out gleefully. “I’ll tell Yiayia if you do.”

I bent to gather the first piece of broken porcelain, its jagged edge a fitting metaphor for what remained of my marriage.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thrown the first punch,” Matthaios muttered, sweeping porcelain shards toward my knees.

“And we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t become a corporate raider,” I countered, brushing the shards away from me.

Dimitrios laughed. “I haven’t seen you two go at it like this since Matthaios put a garden snake in your bed that summer in Montreal.”

“I was twelve,” Matthaios protested, glaring at my younger brother.

“And apparently still are,” Aristides observed dryly.

“You missed one,” Santo announced, pointing with his free hand to a larger fragment.

Matthaios and I both reached for it simultaneously, our hands colliding. The childish impulse to slap his hand away was nearly overwhelming.

As they continued to talk around me, my thoughts turned to Kayla. According to my security team, she was staying with her father, who had been released from the hospital.

She was hurt by my dishonesty, and, above all, she was carrying our child. Direct confrontation would only push her further away. I needed to respect her space while demonstrating my commitment through action.

When Matthaios knocked over the dustpan I’d just filled, Alexei stepped closer, his shadow falling over both of us.

“Oops,” Santo commented, straining against his father’s hold to get a better view. “Looks like you’ll have to start over, Theie Kostas.”

I returned to sweeping while my mind strategized. First, I needed to mend things with her father and sister. Michail had wounded Irida deeply decades ago. Actions I couldn’t simply dismiss.

Yet, watching Kayla’s devastation had clarified something essential. While I couldn’t condone what Michail had done to my aunt, Matthaios’s vengeful approach had created new victims. Kayla and her sister shouldn’t suffer for their father’s mistakes.

I needed a balanced solution. One that acknowledged the legitimate grievances on both sides while stopping the cycle of retaliation. Perhaps not restoring Michail completely but ensuring Kayla’s sister kept enough security and dignity to heal from this crisis.

Most importantly, I wouldn’t separate my loyalty to Kayla from my loyalty to my family. She wasn’t just an addition to the Christakis clan—she and our child were my primary family now. Every decision from now on would reflect that priority.