by Nikki Ash
“I started a tradition when Zoe turned a month old. I would bake cupcakes and after dinner, I would light a candle in one and make a wish. Then afterward, I would take our picture. I would make Aris get it printed and I put each one into a scrap book.”
Kostas smiles softly. “What did you wish for?”
“For you to find us.” I take a breath, not wanting to cry. I started my period this morning, so I know I’m being overly emotional. We’re home and safe, and there’s no reason to cry.
Kostas steps toward me and pushes a wayward strand of hair out of my face. “Looks like this month you’ll have to make a new wish.” He bends slightly and kisses me. It’s sweet and quick, but it still lights my belly on fire.
“Do you still have the scrapbook?” he asks.
“I do. I snatched it when I grabbed our stuff.”
“You’ll have to show it to me,” he insists.
When he steps back, I notice he’s dressed in his suit. “Are you leaving?”
“I need to handle a few things at the office. Handle my parents’ house.”
“Will it be able to be saved?”
“No, but it was fully insured. I need to meet with the agent today to go over everything.” He gives Zoe a kiss, then hands her to me. “I should be home for dinner. Save me a cupcake.” He winks playfully, and I laugh at how damn sexy he is when he’s playful.
After seeing him out, I head into the kitchen to make the cupcakes. My mom comes in as I’m setting them in the oven with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, grabbing my own cup of coffee and sitting at the table across from her. Zoe is sitting in her high chair, playing with her new sippy cup and eating her cheerios.
“I slept very well.” She smiles. “That bed is so comfortable. I’m going to have to tell Stefano to buy us one.” She glances into the kitchen. “Baking this early?”
“They’re Zoe’s seven-month cupcakes. I make them every month to celebrate her birthday.”
Mom grins from ear to ear. “Kind of like your birthday pancakes?”
“Yeah.” I laugh, remembering when I was growing up I would insist Mom make pancakes like every day. Not wanting to make them all the time, she would say they were only for special occasions. So, every time I would ask, I would make up an excuse, like it was my twelve-year, two-month birthday. She could’ve totally told me I was full of shit, but she never did. Instead, she would make them every time.
“How’s Kostas doing?” she asks. I hate that I was gone for over a year, but I love that something good came from the shitty situation. A friendship of sorts was formed between Kostas and my mom. And not just between them, but also between Kostas and Phoenix. Well, maybe not a friendship between Kostas and Phoenix per se…but definitely a mutual understanding. Kostas even gave him a job and a place to live at the hotel.
“He’s okay. Just stressed. Aris is still missing, and instead of keeping quiet, he’s apparently trying to create destruction at every turn to bring Kostas down.”
“Has he done anything else since he burned down their parents’ home?”
“Last night they think he tried to burn the hotel down. Some wires got tripped, but Kostas was ready for him and they caught it quickly, so no damage was done. But, of course, they didn’t see who did it. So, now Kostas thinks there’s a rat.”
Mom huffs in disgust. “I hope they catch him soon.”
“Same, but until they do, I think it’s safe to say Kostas will be on edge. I just wish there was something I could do.”
Mom takes a sip of her coffee and when she sets it down, she grins. “What if I take Zoe to the pool house with me tonight, so you can make him a romantic dinner? You can spend some time just the two of you.”
My first thought is there’s no way I’m letting Zoe out of my sight, but then, after I take a deep breath, I remember the pool house is only a few yards away and my mom did raise me. She’s great with Zoe.
“I’ll even ask Phoenix to come over,” she adds, obviously sensing my reluctance. “I can spend some time with my son and granddaughter, and you can have a nice, peaceful dinner with your husband.”
The buzzer goes off, indicating the cupcakes are done, so I head over to the oven and take them out.
“What do you think?” she prompts.
“I think that would be great.” I open the fridge to see what we have. Upon inspection, I find I have everything I need to make Kostas’s favorite: chicken parmesan.
“But not overnight,” I tell her. “Once we’re done, I’m coming to get my baby back.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s so hard to believe that my baby is all grown up.” She stands and walks over to me, enveloping me in one of her comforting hugs. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, Talia,” she says. “A loving mother and a devoted wife. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mom.” That means a lot coming from her because she’s not only my mom, but my best friend, and growing up, I always wanted to be just like her.
After cleaning up the kitchen, we get changed into our swimsuits and head out to the pool. It’s a perfectly sunny day with not a cloud in sight.
While Mom holds Zoe, I swim some laps, and once I’m done, I take Zoe around in her little inflatable boat that has an umbrella top on it to provide shade. She giggles and splashes in the water. Only getting out of the pool to eat her snacks and drink her juice.
When lunchtime rolls around, I give Zoe back to Mom, so I can grab us something to eat.
“Need help with anything?” a masculine voice asks. Bending to grab my towel, I glance over my shoulder to find Fowler standing right behind me with his gaze pointed directly at my butt.
Since Basil has gone MIA, Kostas and Adrian are out more, so that leaves Fowler and the team watching over us. At first, when I would catch him checking me out, I thought I was seeing things, but the more he does it, the more I realize he’s a fucking perv. And a dumbass because once I tell Kostas, he’s going to kill him. I almost feel bad.
I stand back up and turn around. “Nope, I got it.”
“You sure?” Fowler steps closer and the small hairs on the back of my nape rise.
“Well, if you really want to help, you can start by watching my family instead of watching me.”
I know he gets what I’m insinuating because he smirks. It’s smarmy and sends chills up my spine. I glance around, hoping to see another one of Kostas’s men, but it’s just us. I know they’re all over the grounds, but only one usually stays with us inside the house or out back.
“Sorry, I’m a flirt by nature. Nothing meant by it.” He shrugs, not even bothering to look guilty, despite his words, for staring at my body. “It’s hard to focus when you’re dressed like that.” He grins boyishly and nods toward me. I’m wearing a two-piece bikini, and sure, it might be on the small side, but I’m in my own home, and even if I weren’t, I should be able to wear whatever the hell I want without being ogled by Kostas’s men.
Just as I’m about to give this asshole a piece of my mind, I hear my husband call out my name.
Perfect timing.
“Moró mou,” Kostas says, pulling me into his side. He kisses my temple then addresses Fowler. “How’s everything?”
Fowler’s gaze flits from me back to Kostas and I swear I see a hint of a smirk playing on the corner of his lips. Does this guy seriously want to die? “Absolutely perfect,” he says.
“Kostas, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask.
“Of course.” He turns his attention back to me.
When Fowler doesn’t take the hint, I add, “Alone.”
Kostas’s brows knit together. “What’s the matter, Talia? If there’s an issue, Fowler needs to know as well. Did something happen?”
“No, nothing happened.” I glance over at Fowler, who’s still standing there, with his arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes roaming my body. Is this guy for real? “Well, actually something did happen.” I look point
edly at Fowler. “This guy keeps checking me out, and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Kostas’s brows dip further. “Is this true?” he asks Fowler. “Are you checking out my wife?”
“Sir, it wasn’t like that,” Fowler sputters. His back goes straight, and finally, his eyes are no longer on me.
“Either you did or you didn’t check my wife out. It’s simple.”
“She’s wearing a skimpy bikini, sir, and I might’ve noticed. I didn’t mean any offense.”
I scoff at the way he’s downplaying this. He was totally perving on me.
“Where’s Greg?” Kostas asks him.
“In the security room,” Fowler says.
“And Kip?”
“Guarding the front.”
Kostas steps toward Fowler, and since Kostas is a good half a foot taller, he looks down at him. “I don’t give a fuck if my wife is naked, you don’t ever look at her in any way other than to make sure she’s safe. Understand?” His voice is calm, but I can see it in the way his jaw is ticking, he’s about to lose his shit.
Good! Serves that asshole right.
“Yes, sir,” Fowler says like the good soldier he is. Gag.
“Go take over for Kip and tell him to get back here.”
What? That’s it? He’s just assigning him to a different location?
After Fowler leaves, Kostas’s eyes swing back over to me. “Talia, is that the only bathing suit you have?”
Oh, no, he didn’t.
“No, but—”
“Go change into something more appropriate, please.”
I glance over at my mom, who is lying on a chaise lounge with Zoe in her arms. I can tell by the look on her face she can hear everything that’s happening.
“I’m not changing,” I tell Kostas, crossing my arms over my chest in defiance. “This is my home, and I’ll wear whatever the hell I want.”
Kostas’s brows rise in shock. “Talia, it wasn’t a suggestion. Go fucking change. I’m not going to have you prancing around here so my men can ogle what’s mine.”
What’s his? Like I’m a goddamn piece of property!
“You’re a chauvinist pig, and if you don’t walk away right now, I’m going to push your ass into that pool.” I walk around Kostas and over to Mom. I take Zoe out of her hands, so I can lay her down for a nap.
“Talia,” Kostas growls, but I ignore him, because if I don’t, we’re going to fight. And I’m choosing to chalk his dumb ass remarks up to stress because of Aris.
“I’ll see you tonight!” I call out behind me.
“So, that’s it?” he shouts back. When I keep walking, he says, “Real fucking nice, Talia. I’m so glad I came home to see my family for lunch.”
Too pissed, and afraid I’ll say something I might regret later, I don’t bother answering him. And the smart man he is, doesn’t follow me.
While I’m laying Zoe down, I think about everything he said. While he’s in the wrong, he also made a valid point about being appropriate in front of his men. Not wanting to fight with him over something so trivial, when I get back downstairs, I look for him to apologize, but he’s already gone. Great, now I’m going to need to make sure this dinner is extra perfect because if I know my husband, he’s going to come home cranky as hell later.
Chicken Parmesan-check.
Pasta and sauce-check.
Salads-check.
Wine-check.
Oh! The bread.
Remembering I placed it in the warmer, I run back into the kitchen to grab it. Since my mom has Zoe, and I’m making this dinner for Kostas, I frosted Zoe’s cupcakes and put them away. I figure we can make our wish tomorrow. One day won’t make a difference. Plus, with Kostas being all growly, I figured the best way to calm him down will be to ply him with his favorite food, since I’m on my period and can’t have sex with him. If he’s extra cranky, I’ll give him head. That always softens him up.
I hear the door open then slam shut, and then Kostas’s voice booms throughout the house.
Great, just as I thought…he’s cranky.
“I don’t give a fuck what he said,” he barks into the phone. “I’ve had enough of this back and forth bullshit. I want answers!”
With the bread basket in my hands, I’m stepping into the dining room, when I see Kostas already in there. He yells some more at whoever he’s on the phone with, and then, like it’s happening in slow motion, his fist comes out and swipes at the items on the table. The wine glasses shatter, the chicken parmesan splatters, and the salads fly through the air.
I gape at the destroyed table, my eyes fixated on the red sauce that will stain the wall it’s slowly trekking a path down. The entire meal I just spent hours making is completely ruined.
Kostas’s eyes meet mine, and he looks around, as if now realizing what he did.
“Talia,” he breathes.
“My mom’s watching Zoe for us… I made you dinner,” I choke out. “And it’s ruined.” I don’t have to feel my cheeks to know I’m crying. I know it’s just food, but I worked hard on it to make him feel better and with one swipe, he destroyed it all.
“Shit.” He scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. He’s always frustrated. Always mad. When he found us, it was supposed to be the beginning of our life together, but instead, because of Aris, it’s as if our life is on hold. Kostas tries so hard not to let this side of him show in front of Zoe and me, but I’ve been watching it build and build, and he’s finally reached his boiling point.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, stepping toward me, his brow furling and his eyes shining with remorse. “It’s just…it’s been a bad fucking day.”
Kostas
Talia rushes off and I feel like a fucking animal. I scrub my palm over my face and laugh bitterly. Aris has infected every part of my relationship with Talia straight from the beginning. He’s like a bite from a zombie and as time passes, I’m becoming infected too.
I want to hack him away from me.
Sever him like a diseased limb I’ll be better off without.
We’re at war, my brother and me, and it’s fucking bloody.
But I will win.
Winning means keeping my wife happy. Because when we’re happy, Aris has lost. The loser in a game where he didn’t get the girl. Even when he stole her, she was never his. She will never be his.
I can be pissed as fuck at my brother, but allowing him to creep into our evening time alone and ruin our dinner is too much. He doesn’t deserve that win. And my wife deserves more than that.
With a heavy sigh, I clean up the mess. Sure, we have people to do this, but I need to be the one to do it. To smell the heavenly sauce I won’t get to eat. To curse over the expensive bottle of wine that’s ruined and never tasted. To face the consequences of my destruction. And to clean it all up.
Talia is next.
I’ll kiss her and make it all better.
Once the dining room is cleaned up, I grab a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Then, I pull out some salami, several cheeses, crackers, and grapes. After arranging them on a giant plate, I locate the can of leftover frosting in the fridge. Shoving a spoon into the top, I then place it in the center of my plate of apologies. I tuck the vodka under my arm and grab up the plate. I don’t find her right away because she’s not in our bedroom. Eventually, I locate her in the theater room. Sitting in the dark. Crying. Fuck.
I turn on the lights and she buries her face in her hands. Setting down the plate and alcohol on the table beside a vase filled with fresh Gerber daisies, I pick up the remote to turn on the giant eighty-five-inch screen. It takes some scrolling through Netflix, but I find a version of Romeo + Juliet I can handle. Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. I kick off my shoes and sit down beside her.
“I know you don’t want to hear me tell you I’m sorry again,” I say softly, gripping her thigh and squeezing. “So I’m not saying it. You don’t respond to that shit anyway.”
She hisses
at me. “Fuck you!” she bellows, kicking out and sending the goddamn vase on the table flying across the room. Her fucking periods will be the death of me.
“What I mean,” I growl, staring at yet another broken vase, “is you do better with actions. I made you a charcuterie board.”
“You can’t win me over with your fancy cheese plate,” she bites out. “Not after you threw my dinner to the floor, Kostas Demetriou.”
I snort, which earns me another hiss from her. “You didn’t even look at it.”
She peeks out between her fingers that still cover her face. “Is that chocolate icing?”
I’m a smart fucking man.
“I bet the grapes taste good dipped in the chocolate icing,” I offer, reaching over to pluck a grape from the vine, and then run it along the fudgy sweetness. “Should I taste it first?”
She pops her lips open like a petulant toddler finally giving in to receiving her medicine. I pretend to put the grape to her mouth, but then replace it with my lips at the last second. Her gasp is one of surprise, and before she can push me away, I nip at her bottom lip.
“I love you,” I murmur before finally treating her to the chocolate grape.
“Mmm,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed. “I still hate you, but just a little less.”
“Then I better keep feeding you.”
“You better.”
“I put your favorite movie on,” I tell her.
She laughs, but it’s a mean laugh that gets my dick hard. “I hate this version.”
“But you know all the words,” I argue. “Your eyes light up when you watch it.”
“It’s cheesy,” she grumbles.
“I’ll show you cheesy.”
“Oh my God.” She fights a smile as I pile salami and cheese onto a cracker. “You’re totally cheesy. This is ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you were furious and slinging shit around our kitchen. Now you’re telling me dumb dad jokes and watching corny chick flicks? This is why I hate you.”
“You love me,” I explain as I shove the whole cracker in her mouth to keep her quiet so I can speak. “You love me because I am nothing without you.”
