Page 24

Brooklyn

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"Lover? He was cheating on me while I was pregnant? My God!"

"We don't know yet, and I'm not sure we'll ever know for certain. Actually, the detective's theory is that this Enya was possibly a former lover. He thinks that after you got pregnant, the father of your children rejected her, and maybe that's what triggered the whole tragedy."

"Current or former lover, he brought her to dinner with us! That's sick. It would be like flaunting our happiness in her face. It makes no sense!"

"You said she showed up uninvited. Maybe she did it on purpose, and to avoid a scene or even you discovering their past connection, he kept up that lie."

"Maybe that’s it. After that night we had dinner, Moses told me they’d had a falling out and that I shouldn't let her into our house. That’s why I turned down her invitation to shop for baby clothes. God, how could I have forgotten that?"

"That's important information," he says.

"Yes, probably. I even argued with him about it. I told him that family fights were natural but that, since he didn't have any other relatives, he should reconsider. When our children were born, no one from his side of the family came to visit. And Moses seemed...nervous. Jesus, I forgot to tell the detective so many details! But now the memories are flooding back!"

"No problem. We’ll call the police detective as soon as we arrive at my beach house. I'll also let my private investigator know."

Suddenly, something he said earlier comes back to my mind.

I glance behind us to check if Eleanor and the twins are still asleep, and even though they are, I lower my voice. "Wait, did you say at the beginning of this conversation that her possible rejection might have driven this woman to try to kill us?"

"Actually, I think she wanted to kill you ."

My whole body trembles, and I think he notices because he grabs my hand, squeezing it.

"You're right. She wanted to get rid of me. Her plans went wrong when Moses got in the way."

"That seems to be the most logical conclusion. People do crazy things when driven by emotions, usually connected to sex or money. So yes, this theory makes perfect sense. In any case, I won’t let anything happen to you. Or to the twins."

"We're not your responsibility."

He doesn’t respond, simply refocusing on the road.

Exhausted, I close my eyes to process this new information, but I must fall asleep, because I wake up to the sound of the car parking and Silas giggling.

When I open my eyes again, my jaw drops at the sight of the house.

I've been to Zeus and Madison's place, which is huge, but this is a beach house, for heaven’s sake!

"What’s wrong?" he asks.

"I think our definitions of a beach house are completely different."

Before he can reply, staff approach the car and open the door to help Eleanor out with the babies.

"I’ll get the twins, Eleanor," Athanasios says.

"No, stay a little longer. Finish your conversation. There’s an army of staff here; they’ll manage," she responds, patting his shoulder.

I remain frozen, clutching my hands in my lap and wondering what I’m even doing here. I don’t belong in this man’s world.

He seems to notice my unease because he takes my hand and intertwines our fingers. "It’s just a house, Brooklyn."

"This looks like a palace."

"You’ll get used to it in time."

"How can you be so sure? You're rich."

"I haven’t always been. Did you forget I was adopted? Until I was nine, I was very poor. It was only after my parents took me in that I started living a life of luxury."

"Did you find it strange?"

"The wealth?" He shrugs. "I was happy before because I had my mother." He places his hand on the door handle, about to step out, but I grab his arm.

"What happened to her?"

"They took her away from me," he says enigmatically.

"Mamaaaa...wa-wa!" Silas shouts, swimming in the pool like he's never bathed in his life.

"I see you, my love! You're swimming so well! Mommy is so proud of you!"

"Yayyyy!" Soraya claps, though I’m sure she has no idea what I just said.

My stepmother and I sit by the edge of the pool, our feet in the water.

To my surprise, Athanasios offered to get in with my kids, both twins wearing arm floaties.

He seems incredibly focused on teaching them how to swim. I wish I could say I was paying attention to the lessons, but honestly, I feel somewhat hypnotized by the doctor’s physique.

He has a lean build but with muscles defined in all the right places. No one needs to tell me he works out, because his thighs are sculpted and his chest and arms look so deliciously firm I feel an urge to trace them with my hands.

Every so often, he looks at me without hiding what he's thinking, as if he can sense my desire too, and I have to make an effort to hide how excited I feel.

"They’re having so much fun. I never imagined Athanasios, with all that aloofness, would be good with kids," Eleanor says, smiling.

I haven’t told her about the conversation I had with him in the car, because I don’t want to ruin the weekend, especially since we decided to stay until Sunday. I let my mind torment itself with that madness alone.

"Maybe Silas won him over that first day," I finally respond.

"Yes, if there’s one thing to be said about our boy, it’s that he’s very charming." She takes a sip of the orange juice a staff member served earlier. "It was a good idea to move the boat trip to tomorrow. They’ll be wiped out from today’s travel. Anything that disrupts their routine tires them out by the end of the day."

"Yes."

"Why are you so quiet?"

"He asked me to go out on the yacht with him later, to watch the sunset at sea."

"And you don’t want to go?"

"I do, but should I?"

"Go, Brooklyn. God knows you’ve had your share of suffering in life. It’s time to be happy."

"And what if it’s not happiness I find but more pain?"

"You’ll never know if you don’t try, dear."

Eleanor steps into the water, offering to take over with the babies. She has a back problem she’s been treating, but in the pool, the weight of the twins is easier to manage.

As soon as she takes Athanasios's place, he walks over to me, standing in front of my slightly parted thighs but without touching me.

His gaze travels up my legs, stopping at the triangle of my bikini bottom, then my abdomen and chest. When it reaches my face, I feel like I’m on fire inside.

"Come with me for the boat ride later, Brooklyn," he asks again.

It’s not so much what he says but the way he says it that makes me feel like I might faint.

I nod, agreeing, and I think he wasn’t expecting that.

"Aren’t you afraid?"

"I am, but I want to go with you."