by SR Jones
I’m starting to agree with her sentiment and see Damen as hot too, but that’s because I’ve started to get to know him a little and see the principled man he is. On the surface, though, he’s not as objectively good looking as Alesso. Mother mentioned how hot Damen was the other night too, and I’m intrigued now.
“Don’t you think Alesso is better looking?” I ask Stella.
“Girl, they’re both gorgeous, and even Markos is fit. Jesus, what I wouldn’t give for a foursome with those three.”
“Stella!”
She giggles. “Oh, I’m sorry, Little Miss Porn Show, did I shock you? If so, I’m sorry. I didn’t think a girl who has spent the past few weeks putting on dirty performances for one of her security guards would find my words horrifying.”
I giggle at that. “Maybe it would be a little bit hot, the three of them.” I fan my face.
“Girl. It would be smoking, especially if Damen and Alesso swung both ways. I’d pay cold hard cash to see Alesso suck Damen’s cock.”
My mind helpfully supplies the images, and yeah, it’s hot, but I get a weird surge of jealousy at the thought, and not over Alesso. God, I must be losing my ever-loving mind if I’m transferring my affections to Damen.
“But to answer your question,” Stella carries on. “Alesso is a stunning man, but for me, there’s something about Damen. He’s powerful, and not only in his build, but the way he owns his space, and I don’t know… I get the impression he’d be rough, you know? Throw you around the room a bit.” She giggles again.
“You’re as bad as me; you need to get laid.”
“I do. You were going to tell me some gossip, so spill,” she demands.
“You cannot repeat a word of this, not a word,” I tell her.
She makes a cross over her heart, and I smile at the gesture we’ve used since childhood. “So, Yannis came to see me today.”
“Bluagh!” Stella pretends to stick her fingers down her throat, and I laugh but carry on with my story.
“And he wasn’t nice to me. Damen was guarding us, and he got pissed.”
“Oh, boy,” she says.
“Yeah, but then it got … weird.” I lower my voice and get closer to the screen. “Yannis got hold of Damen’s balls and asked him if he wanted to suck him off. Then he slapped him, right across the face.”
“Whaaaat?” Her voice is a screech. “Is he suicidal? Oh my God, what did Damen do?”
“Nothing, he stood there with a face like thunder,” I say and start to giggle. “If he wasn’t working for my uncle, I think he’d have ripped Yannis’ head right off his body.”
“You know, Yannis isn’t normal, babe. You have to do something to get out of the marriage.”
I am dying to tell her, but I can’t. The wedding day can’t come soon enough, simply, so I can tell my best friend the truth afterward.
***
The next morning my mother comes to get me bright and early, and we head out for some dress shopping. I’d been kind of looking forward to it, despite the wedding being fake, but then Yannis had let his poison loose and told me I was basically a fat cow who would look a mess on her wedding day.
Things aren’t improved when we get to the dress shop, and Mother turns to me with a sigh that says that we need to make sure to find a dress to flatter me and contain my curves. I shit you not, contain, as if they are wild things trying to break free all the time.
Worse? Alesso is shadowing us, because apparently despite this being a fake-ass wedding, Damen isn’t going to be seeing me in my dress. I suppose I can understand it, after all; in our case bad luck might mean one dead bride.
Although, we haven’t had any nasty notes for a few days, which makes my suspicions that it is Yannis all the stronger. He doesn’t need to leave vicious notes now; he can mess with my head directly. The juice fast diet will be turning up in a few hours I suppose.
Fuck my life!
“Mrs. Kantos.” An assistant comes simpering over to us, addressing my mother and ignoring me. “Would you ladies like some champagne while you’re trying on?”
“Yes, please,” Mother says, and I’m amazed she’s letting a fatty like me get a glass. “And some water for Mr. Vovos, please.” She indicates Alesso who gives a curt nod.
I sigh, and my mother looks at me and brushes my cheek. “Don’t pout, darling. I know this isn’t the fairy tale wedding you dreamt of, but in a few months you can cancel it, and then you’re free to find someone you love, and you will.”
“So long as he’s a fat fancier?”
She flinches. “Darling, you’re not fat. I never have said you are, but you’re … very, very curvy, and sometimes it looks cheap if you wear the wrong thing.”
Ouch, she can be such a bitch, and the worst of it is, I don’t think she means to. She genuinely thinks she’s helping me.
“What style are you looking for?” The lady has returned with two glasses of champagne on a tray and three glasses of water.
“Something conservative and classy,” mother says.
“And sexy,” I add.
I catch Alesso stifling a grin and bite back my own. He clearly likes me standing up for myself a little, and I know it’s something I should do more of.
“Conservative, classy, and sexy all at once might be a bit hard to find. Although, we certainly have some classy and sexy dresses in stock. I don’t think overly conservative will suit such a young bride, if you don’t mind me saying, Mrs. Kantos.”
My mother sighs and gives a discreet dip of her head, saying go ahead, but she can’t resist adding, “Can you try to keep the neckline high, make sure there’s not a lot of cleavage?”
The saleswoman does a mini-bow then gestures for me to follow her. Twenty minutes later, I’m surrounded by taffeta and lace and silk. She’s already put three dresses on me, which I hated on sight. One made me look bigger than I am, and the other two were far too fussy. I want simple, and my mother is right—I do want classy, but also drop dead sexy.
The fourth dress is not going to be the one, either, I can tell. It’s ruched around the middle, with a flouncy, trumpet-shaped skirt, and just … no. I try it on, though, because I don’t want to be rude. I have my back to the mirror as the lady pulls the dress on for me. She zips it up and it fits well. The others, one didn’t fasten, and two had to be held together at the back with pegs. She comes around the front, adjusting the tiny, off-the-shoulder lace sleeves.
“Oh my.” She beams at me.
Oh my, what?
“Turn around, dear, and take a look.”
I do and let out a small gasp. This dress is nothing I thought I wanted, but it is beautiful.
The lace sleeves fit tight to my shoulders and upper arms, slimming me there. The neckline plunges down then crosses in a classic sweetheart neck. It gives me cleavage, but not enough to give Mother a conniption. The body of the dress swathes my waist and hips cleverly in a crisscross of fitted material that takes inches off my waist, and emphasizes the curve of my hips. A few inches below my hips the skirt fans out into a trumpet shape, sweeping the floor around me and behind me.
If you’d asked me what sort of wedding dress I wanted, I would have never said this. I wanted something sleek, down to the floor with no train to speak of, in satin perhaps. I can’t deny how incredible it makes me look, though.
“Do you think we should show them this one? It does look stunning, dear.” The saleswoman gives me a glowing smile.
“Okay, we can show them.”
I follow her out of the dressing room and into the main salon where Alesso and Mother are waiting. I’m conflicted, because although I love this dress, it isn’t the kind I’d pictured myself wearing in my dreams of getting married. Anyway, I’m sure Mother will put the knife in and have me hating it in two minutes flat, which will be doing me a favor in some ways.
We walk into the salon, and my mother looks up. Her mouth drops open slightly, and she stares. I’m nervous, despite this not being my dream dress, despite
this being a fake wedding, I’m nervous as hell to see what my mother has to say about it.
“Oh, Maya.” Her eyes turn glassy.
Does it look so bad it’s making her cry?
I try to turn around and get out of there, my cheeks burning when her words stop me. “You look beautiful.” Then Mother turns to the sales lady, and with a soft smile, says, “I guess you can do sexy and classy at the same time.”
No matter how many times I tell myself I don’t need her approval, every time my mom gives it to me, I crumble a little.
Then a deep, masculine voice says, “Maya, you look absolutely stunning, and you are going to do your groom proud.”
I tear my eyes from my mother and look at Alesso. He’s smiling at me, that gorgeous smile with those amazing dimples and crinkles around his eyes, and something hits me. I still see him as a handsome man, but he doesn’t make my heart flip anymore. Damn, it seems my crush is well and truly over.
“Thanks, Alesso.” I give him a smile then turn back to my mother. “Do you honestly like it?”
She grins wider. “Darling, you look incredible.”
I turn to the sales lady. “Seems like you have sold a dress.”
She gives a little clap of her hands. “It fits almost perfectly. I don’t think this size needs much in the way of alterations. When do you need it by?”
Alesso steps forward. “It fits fine. It doesn’t need alterations, and we need it today.”
She glances from him to my mother, to me, and her eyes widen. “But this is the floor dress, we’ll order one from the designer, and then it needs altering.”
“There’s not time; the wedding is in three weeks,” Alesso keeps to the story about the date of my wedding to Yannis, because you never know who knows who in this city. “So no time to order in and have alterations, but this fits perfectly, and she needs it now, today.”
“I can’t sell you this dress, Miss Kantos. It’s been tried on, it isn’t new, and there may be marks.”
During the conversation between Alesso and the saleswoman, my mother has been walking around the dress, inspecting it closely. “It’s fine,” she says. “How lucky, Maya, a dress that is a perfect fit, and we can take it today. It means we can show the seamstress who is doing the rush job on the bridesmaid dresses and get you kitted out with shoes, a wedding bag, and everything else.” She is playing along, as in reality there will be no bridesmaids, but still, the dress it seems is a genuine hit.
I’m a bit dumbfounded by this turn of events, because I’d been nervous enough coming here today. If I’d known I had to find a dress that actually fit, I’d have full blown freaked out. I never even thought of the logistics of getting married in three days.
“This is highly irregular—”
“I’ll pay full price.” Mom stops the lady mid speech. “Cash, and I’ll take it off your hands today. I don’t care that it’s a display, so it’s a win-win for you. You get full money on a dress that you would only be able to sell at a third of its true value most likely. All I ask is you don’t tell anyone we were here, and you don’t leak any details of the dress we’ve chosen. This is a society wedding, and those terms are important.”
Society wedding. Mafia society, more like. I don’t say a word, though, as Mother works her charm.
The sales lady nods and smiles. “If you’re happy to pay full price for this model, how can I object?”
“Good,” Mother says then turns to me. “Now, get changed, darling, we have accessories to buy.”
When we are safely out of the shop and back in the car, I turn to her. “What would we have done if we hadn’t found a dress that fit me like this one did?”
She grins at me. Not a regal smile, like she normally gives out, but a full-on grin. “We’d have hit more shops until we found you a dress. There are hundreds of wedding stores in Athens, and anyway, we could have always gone with a cream cocktail gown if needs must. But what luck, you found one that fits, and it’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen on you.”
I find myself wondering if Damen will feel the same way, then I tell myself I shouldn’t care. The wedding is fake, and he’s only doing this to save me from a forced marriage to Yannis.
“Fuck’s sake,” I curse as my suddenly clumsy fingers fumble the buttonhole again.
Alesso chuckles and crosses the floor of our hotel room to help me.
Today is the big day, the day I marry Maya.
What the hell I’ve gotten myself into, I don’t know. I must be insane to have stepped up the way I did and complicated the shit out of my life.
Then there’s the honeymoon.
Stamatis has paid for us to have four nights in Paris for our honeymoon, during which time he and his boys, including Alesso and Markos, will go see Lefteris and Yannis, explain that we got married without them knowing, and try to smooth over any hard feelings.
Part of me hates leaving when I know there will be real danger for the guys if Lefteris decides to act as crazy as his son and take offence. But another part of me knows that I’ve got the most important job in the next few days, that of keeping Maya safe. It also means I get to spend time with her in the most romantic city in the world. It’s suddenly all seeming far too real. I’ve stepped in to save her, but who am I to think I can play the knight in shining armor? I come from a long line of fuck ups and bastards. I should have left her well alone, or let Alesso take the fall.
Shit, I need to stop spiraling. I focus on the plan for when we return home.
When we return home, I’ve decided we’ll spend a few weeks at the mausoleum that is my family home. I don’t want to, but it’s out of the way and highly defendable. I’ve already asked Markos and Alesso if they’ll go scope it out while I’m gone and put security in.
It will be weird going back there, and I don’t relish it.
Finally, buttons on my grey vest fastened, I’m practically ready; only need to fasten the top buttons on my shirt and sort my tie.
“You know, you didn’t have to step up like this. I’d have done it. I could have explained to Sophia.” Alesso pulls back from me, holding me by the shoulders. “I feel guilty, like you’re saving me all over again, and we need to talk about things anyway. You’re always saving me, Damen, and now you’re saving her.”
I laugh it off, because in some ways maybe I am always saving him, but he saves me in return. In saving him, I make up for past sins and people I let down.
“Firstly, you said she’s not your type, and she kind of is mine, so it might be fun.”
“Dude,” Markos interrupts me with a shove of his big fist against my shoulder. “You cannot mess about with this girl, he may not be admitting it to us, but we all heard what went on in that room. She’s his daughter. Whether Stamatis ever openly acknowledges her or not, he’s not going to be happy if you screw around with her, and you don’t do commitment.”
“I don’t do screwing around, either,” I return. “And who said I had to actually fuck her? There’s lots of other ways to get your rocks off.”
“Exactly, you’ve got this serial monogamy thing going on where you find some woman, get her all entangled in you, and when shit gets too real, you leave. There’s a trail of broken hearts across this city, and you think you’re a stand-up guy because unlike some you don’t screw around. What you do is way worse, and if you do it to Maya, Stamatis will be out for your blood.”
I’m livid. Who does he think he is, calling me on my shit, when he doesn’t know the half of it? “You do not get to tell me how to live my life, but for your information, the women I hang around with, they always know it won’t be a long term thing. I don’t do it often, but I have to like someone before I go sticking my dick in them. Doesn’t mean I want hearts and flowers and two point five kids, though. And most of those women? They were on the same damn page.”
“Well, you better make sure Maya is before you lay one finger on her in anything other than protection.”
Markos heads into the bathroom,
giving the door an extra hard shove.
“You know he’s right.”
Alesso’s words pull me up short. We are thick, the three of us, but if you were to ask if one of us is more on the outside then it would be Markos. Alesso is like my brother, and Markos is my friend. Alesso defending Markos surprises me.
“I’m only saying … she’s fucked up. The girl is a mess of insecurities and fake bravado, and while I’m sure she’s more than capable of having some fun, maybe this time, if you go there, you ought to keep it purely about the sex. Because I have a feeling if you do your normal, we’re great friends and we’re going to hang out for six months before I pull the plug routine, she’ll get too attached. Of course, my advice is you do not go there, no matter what.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil.”
He snorts and turns away.
Are you nervous?” Alesso says, back still to me.
“It’s fake, asshole, why would I be nervous?” I snap because, yeah, I’m nervous.
We didn’t even go out for a boy’s night the previous evening. I went for a long run instead and contemplated what the coming months would be like. Mostly, it’s another job. I’ll make room at the house for Alesso and Markos, and if they want the odd night in town, they can still use the apartment. I might even spend a night there with Maya now and again, if we go out in the city.
So, on the one hand, it’s nothing more than a more in-depth version of the work I’ve already been doing for the past few years, where our more unsavory work for Stamatis has been intermingled with guarding a variety of people as close protection. On the other hand, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a glimmer of … excitement at the idea of living with Maya. She’s the first woman in a long time to interest me, and I want to see what she’s like when she’s her real self, stripped down of the pretense she wears in public, and freed from the oppression she clearly lives under at home.
I’m also still planning on making her want me, for real … physically at least. I don’t want the woman to fall in love with me, as if she would, but I want her pining for me, the way she clearly did for Alesso. The big question is, if she gives me the green light, will I do something about it? Because the guys are right, she’s the daughter of the big boss, which means things have changed.
