Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies Duet Book 1)

by Nikki Ash

  I clench my jaw, burning my glare into her. She’s so fucking confident that I care enough about her that I’ll take care of the people she loves too.

  Weak.

  She makes me so fucking weak.

  “Underneath all this fury and aggression, you’re gentle and loving. Beneath the mob boss is my husband.” She stands on her toes and kisses me.

  Some of the anger melts away as my palms find her ass. I squeeze her hard enough that she gasps against my lips. When her hand slides down to my cock that’s hardening by the second, I groan. Too quickly she’s learning to play my body against me to get what she wants.

  I’ve killed men for much less.

  With Talia, it’s like she’s a seductress who gets inside my mind, no matter how dark and fucked up it is, and fills me with her sweet light. It’s maddening. And exhilarating too.

  “I know you hate giving in to those who’ve angered you, but unfortunately, these people are a part of me.” She grips my dick and kisses me deeply before pulling her lips away. “Like my mother.” When she starts to kneel, her motive on giving me a blow job evident, I grip her hair tight to prevent her from moving.

  “No,” I say lowly. “You’re not going to suck my cock into getting your way. It doesn’t work like that, Talia. I’m on to you.”

  Rather than seeming afraid or panicked, she frowns at me. “So you don’t want a blow job?”

  Why does she have to look so fucking cute when I’m pissed at her?

  “Of course I want a blow job. But not when you’re trying to secretly get your way. You want your way then you negotiate for it like a real Demetriou. Out with what you want and what you’re willing to give for it.” I nip at her bottom lip before giving her a sinister smile. “Let’s make a deal, zoí mou.”

  She purses her lips, studying my face for a moment. “Fine. I want contact with my mom.”

  Anger coils inside me like a snake. “Your mother—”

  “I know exactly what she did,” she breathes. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry it was her who was the catalyst for what happened to Nora. But my mom was still a victim. She’d been cheated on.”

  “You can’t go see her,” I bite out.

  “I want her to come see me.” She lifts her chin, fire burning in her blue eyes. “Freely.”

  “I don’t care to see that woman,” I growl.

  “She’s my mom,” Talia bites out. “And if you care about me, you’ll give this to me.”

  I narrow my eyes. “In exchange for what? We’re negotiating. I might bite. But I want to know what I get. And don’t offer me a fucking blow job.”

  Her lips curve up into a half smile. “I’m inviting her to the grand opening of the restaurant when it’s done.”

  “In. Exchange. For. What?”

  “I don’t know,” she purrs, backing away from me. “I think you’re a smart man, Pluto, and can come up with that answer.”

  A chase.

  She’ll let me chase her down and fuck her like a god does for the one he’s laid claim to.

  “I agree to your terms, Proserpina,” I growl. “But you better run fast. When I catch you, I’m going to fuck you hard, wild, and rough.”

  She grins and flashes me a wink.

  And then she’s gone.

  Watching her ass bounce up those stairs, knowing I’ll be ripping her yoga pants off very soon, is worth the shitty meeting I just endured.

  Talia’s ass makes everything better.

  Talia

  Sitting at Kostas’s desk in his home office, double-checking my book of ideas a.k.a. my restaurant proposal to present to Aris, my mind wanders to a recent conversation with him. When I approached Aris a couple weeks ago regarding the budget, he explained I wasn’t prepared, and once I was, to schedule an appointment. Asshole.

  After taking fifteen calming breaths, I knock on Aris’s door and wait for him to grant me access.

  “Talia, what can I do for you?” He closes his laptop and gives me his undivided attention. My heart is beating so fast you would think it was in a race, but luckily, Aris’s door is open and is surrounded by other offices. Including Kostas’s.

  “I’m here to speak to you regarding the budget for the restaurant.” I stay standing, hoping this will be quick and painless.

  Aris’s lips curl into a smile, and I’m taken aback. It’s just like the smiles he would grant me before… “Okay. What do you need from me?”

  “I guess I just need to know who I order from and how to pay for things.” I shuffle from one foot to the other nervously.

  Aris laughs and then starts firing questions off at me. “Have you decided what the theme will be? What the menu will look like? Contacted any chefs for interviews? Have you put together a plan? How about an estimated budget?”

  When I don’t say anything, shocked and dumbfounded at how formal he’s behaving, he says, “I take it you didn’t think about any of that?” Aris stands and walks around to the front of his desk. Instinctively, I back up so I’m almost out of the office, afraid he’s going to try to close the door and trap me in here. He stops and leans against the desk, completely unfazed by my actions. “In the world of business, Talia, one must come prepared to a meeting with all the information needed. I know my brother told you there’s no budget, but that doesn’t mean you view it as a shopping spree. The Pérasma Hotel has a reputation to uphold. The restaurant needs to be cohesive with the rest of the wing, which will be finalized at the same time, and Hilda, who is in charge of that, actually has a budget. She’s going to need to know what your intentions are so she can work alongside you. And while my brother doesn’t seem to care how much you spend, we still need to turn a profit. It is a business after all.”

  I refrain from rolling my eyes. We both know damn well this restaurant, hell, this hotel is nothing but a front. Sure, they turn a profit, but Aris doesn’t really give a shit about how much I spend. He’s only doing this to stick it to me.

  “Once you have all your ducks in a row, give my secretary a call to schedule an appointment and we’ll sit down and discuss it.” He steps toward the door, opening it wider, silently indicating he’d like for me to leave. So, this is how he wants to play this game… Fine. He might’ve won this round, but I will win the war.

  After leaving his office, I was more determined than ever to make this restaurant a success. First step, I had to come up with a theme. Once I figured that out, I started researching everything. From paint, to décor, the restaurant kitchen appliances. I’ve created an item analysis of everything I’m planning to purchase and what the estimated cost of labor will be. I’ll be damned if I’m not prepared for the meeting today.

  Going over everything one last time, I gather everything I’m going to need for our meeting, including my big girl panties and five-inch heels, and head over to Aris’s office. His secretary has rescheduled me twice now, so hopefully this meeting sticks. I could’ve told Kostas the games Aris is playing, but I almost think that’s exactly what he wants me to do—run crying to my husband, who I know will tell Aris to stop his shit. So, I haven’t told Kostas anything, except that I’m, as Aris said, ‘Getting my ducks in a row.’

  “Talia, how are you?” Carlene, Aris’s secretary greets me.

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Ready for five o’clock to come.” She laughs good-naturedly. “I have a date tonight.” She winks playfully, reminding me of my friends back in Italy. Maybe Carlene and I can hang out some time. “Mr. Demetriou is ready for you. Just go on back.”

  “Thanks, Carlene. Have fun on your date tonight.”

  When I get to Aris’s door, it’s slightly ajar, but I still knock, not wanting him to give me another lecture on business etiquette.

  “Come in.”

  When I enter, he stands and gives me a sincere smile. I swear the man is bipolar. “Have a seat, Talia. I can’t wait to hear what you have for me.”

  Against my better judgement, I have a seat, and Aris sits back in his. I han
d him my business projection binder—I made three copies—and he starts flipping through it. He stops at the restaurant name but doesn’t ask questions. Unlike Kostas, he’s not educated in Greek mythology, so he won’t get it. I wait with bated breath as he flips through the pages until he gets to the end. Then he closes it and grins.

  “I see you’ve come more prepared, Talia. This is great work. We’ll need to make a copy for Hilda—”

  “Actually, I made one.” I hand him one of the other copies I made, and he chuckles.

  “Very good.” He types something on his laptop and then the printer starts up. He grabs the papers and hands them to me. “These are the billing instructions and credit card info. Everything gets charged to this card, unless it’s over ten thousand, then it needs to be submitted and I’ll use our business account.”

  He circles the information, then says, “Your estimated opening date is at the end of August. That’s only eight weeks. We’ll need to meet every couple weeks to make sure you’re on track to finish on time. We can’t open the reservations if the work isn’t going to be completed on time.”

  Mother. Fucking. Asshole. Of course he wants to meet every two damn weeks. So he can kill me with kindness.

  Not letting him see that my blood is boiling, I plaster on my sweetest smile and say, “Sounds good.”

  After we finish our meeting, I head straight over to the restaurant to take another look at the place and begin placing orders. If I’m honest, this part of the hotel is my favorite. Unlike the other parts of the hotel, which are built up with pools and gyms and walkways, this side has a more natural feel to it. The trees cover the entire area, giving it privacy. Nora had started designing the area, so there’s a few hammocks hanging from palm trees, which overlook Mirabello Bay. While I’ve been working on designing the restaurant, lying in these hammocks has become my new favorite pastime.

  After spending the next few hours calling various places to get things scheduled, I call the contractor I’ve chosen to confirm a walkthrough with him and his team. I need to make sure everything can be done in time.

  “Tomorrow at noon is perfect,” Mr. DeSantis says.

  “Thank you. I will see you then.” Just as I’m hitting end on our call, a masculine voice speaks into my ear, and I jump slightly in the hammock, almost tipping it over.

  “There’s my wife,” Kostas says, his voice deep but playful. “I was beginning to forget what you looked like.” He leans down and gives me a soft kiss. “Were you planning to come home tonight?”

  I glance at my phone and see it’s already almost six o’clock. “I didn’t realize how late it was. And you just saw me this morning…in bed…naked.”

  Kostas leans against the wall that separates the hotel from the bay. “I can’t help that I can’t get enough of my wife.” Kostas hits me with a boyish grin, the one I’m beginning to think he saves only for me. It never ceases to amaze me how Kostas can be so cruel and cold one minute, and then turn around and say something so sweet.

  “Who were you speaking to on the phone?” he asks, changing the subject.

  “The contractor. We begin construction on Pomegranate tomorrow.”

  Kostas smirks wickedly at the name of the restaurant. Of course he gets it. “That’s what you’re calling it? Pomegranate.”

  I climb out of the hammock and step in between Kostas’s legs. “It seems fitting.” After all, pomegranate was what the Greek god, Pluto, of the Underworld conned Proserpina into eating to keep her by his side for all eternity.

  “I would happen to agree with you. Come, wife, I’m taking you to dinner.” He grips the curves of my hips and pulls me in closer, his lips finding mine. My body sinks into his and he deepens the kiss before he pulls back and whispers, “And then I’m going to have you for dessert.”

  Kostas

  It’s been a week since construction started on Pomegranate. A week too long of losing my wife to the leering stares of workers as she flits about bossing everyone around in a way that gets my dick hard. She fought me on working late tonight too, but I pulled rank and told her we’re dining with my family whether she wants to or not.

  “You don’t have to be so smug about it,” she sasses from the passenger seat.

  I reach over and grip her silky, tanned thigh just below the hem of her sparkly navy dress. “About what, zoí mou?”

  She shakes her head but doesn’t push my hand away. I smirk as I pull into the driveway at my father’s estate. Aris’s gray 911 GT2 RS sits parked crooked in front of the six-bay garage. It makes me want to park close enough that Talia’s door dings the car he adores. In the end, I’m an adult and choose to park directly behind him instead to block him in.

  “Close enough?” Talia asks, laughing.

  “He worships that stupid Porsche. He’s lucky I don’t do worse just to fuck with him.”

  She simply smirks and climbs out. I follow after her, drinking in how goddamn hot she is today. After being on site all day, she’d scrubbed away the grime, ditched the jeans, and dolled up for me. Her long blond locks hang in messy beach waves down her back, nearly coming to her ass that has my full attention. The dress is just short enough on her long legs to seem risqué. I’m torn between wanting her to change and demanding she bend over so I can see what color panties she’s wearing.

  I do neither because Aris steps out to greet us. One look at the proximity of my car and the murderous scowl on his face is enough to send satisfaction thrumming through me. My pleasure at his annoyance is cut short when he rakes his gaze up and down my wife. She stalls to a stop. I prowl up behind her and wrap a possessive arm around her middle.

  Aris, the little bitch, laughs. “Calm down, killer. I wasn’t checking out your wife. I was thinking she and Selene must have shopped at the same boutique for their dresses.”

  Selene?

  Who the fuck is Selene?

  As though on cue, a redhead with fat lips and wide green eyes clacks over to Aris in her high heels. She’s wearing a navy dress as well, but unlike Talia’s classy one, Selene’s looks to be painted on her curvy body. And it looks like they missed some paint on her big tits.

  “Kostas, this is my girl, Selene,” Aris introduces. “Selene, that’s my brother, and his wife, Talia.”

  Selene offers her hand. Talia politely shakes it, but I don’t offer my hand, just a nod of my head. Gingers aren’t usually my brother’s type—blondes are—but I can’t say I’m complaining. Maybe he’s moving on from eye-fucking my wife all the time, something I’m glad to see.

  “How’s Father?” I grunt out as I usher Talia past them.

  “Chipper as fuck. You know Dad.” Aris’s dry, sarcastic tone has Selene giggling at his humor.

  Ignoring her annoying laugh, I guide Talia into the house I grew up in. Since my mother died, I’ve tried not to get caught up in the emotions and memories. I stay singularly focused when I visit. Make sure Father is cared for and doesn’t hurt for anything.

  I find Father seated in the dining room. Despite the pain meds he’s been on since the accident, he still remains sharp and aware. He watches us enter, irritation marring his features. I’ve avoided bringing Talia here because Father has no problem in telling me how much he despises her and her family. And while I can tune it out, I don’t want to see how his words might affect her.

  “Good evening,” I greet, nodding to him.

  Talia clutches my hand like a lifeline. I guide her to a seat and pull out the chair. Once she’s settled, I take a seat between her and Father. Aris escorts Selene to the other side of the table, planting her beside Father, and then sitting across from Talia, much to my aggravation.

  “We’re in beautiful company tonight,” Father says, turning his smile on for Selene’s benefit.

  Aris straightens, seemingly surprised and simultaneously proud that Father approves of his flavor of the week. “I certainly agree,” Aris says, offering our father a smile.

  I simply grunt. Talia is hot as fuck. Selene is a cheap wa
nnabe who won’t last until Saturday. She’s insignificant to the Demetrious.

  Before dinner starts, Father asks us to say a small prayer for our mother. I bow my head and try not to let her absence claw at my heart. His words float through the air, but I don’t hear them. Talia clutches my thigh and squeezes. I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her skin.

  At first, dinner is polite and conversational. We steer away from Father’s “condition” even though I can tell Talia is curious. Talia sucks down the wine nearly as fast as Aris and Selene. I keep my eye on the clock, waiting for the moment we can wrap up and bail. Things between my father and me are strained. His power and influence have waned, and in his inability to lead, I’ve been forced to take over all aspects of the Demetriou business. It pisses him off, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

  “Any word on the men behind the attempt on my life?” Father grits out.

  Aris lifts a brow at me. Both women are quiet as they listen for the answer.

  “It’s being handled, Father,” I reply in a bored, dismissive tone.

  “And the taxes?” Father demands.

  “They’re being collected, Father.”

  “And the Aegean Sea fleets?”

  “Still floating, Father.”

  “And Niles?”

  “We’re hunting him down, Father.”

  “And the hotel?”

  “Running flawlessly, Father.”

  Father slams his fist down on the table, his rage making his face burn bright red. “Stop dismissing me like I’m your fucking wife, Kostas. I want answers. Tell me what’s going on with my empire.”

  Aris sucks down another glass of wine, too much of a wussy to get involved. Selene obviously gropes him underneath the table because he hisses at the contact.

  “It’s all being handled, Father,” I tell him, tearing my gaze from my brother.

  “You’re being a disrespectful shit,” Father seethes.

  Aris shoves Selene’s hand away, his eyes gleaming with delight to see our father and me arguing. Usually he’s the one in the hot seat.