LOGINI think we should go clubbing later tonight,” Penny declared, her voice light and breezy.
I stared at her, fork hovering mid-air above my third plate of kleftiko, utterly dumbfounded.
“Clubbing?” I repeated, incredulous. “Are you serious?”My cousin’s tiny frame belied the force of her personality. Her black hair shimmered under the soft light, and her brown eyes sparkled with barely contained mischief. Mischief, it seemed, was aimed directly at me today.
Having arrived at the family home in Mykonos from Athens a mere five hours ago, I had envisioned a serene afternoon by the pool. Catching up with Penny had been the plan—relaxing, low-effort, completely free of stress. Her idea was a sharp divergence from my completely chill plan.
Penny leaned forward, her determination practically radiating from her pores. “Yes. Clubbing. Why not?”
Good question. Why not?
I stuffed another piece of lamb into my mouth, hoping to evade her question. Should’ve known that’ll never work on her.
“Oh, no, no, no.” Penny rolled her eyes, undeterred. She slid closer, her gaze fixed on my plate.
Hell no.
“Touch my plate, and I’ll throw you into the pool. Eyeliner and all,” I warned, pointing my fork at her like a weapon.
She stopped mid-reach, smiled sweetly, and shook her head. “Addy, you can’t hide behind that plate forever. We’re going, and that’s final.”
According to my constitutional rights, I absolutely could refuse.
With a theatrical sigh, I handed over the plate, gazing longingly at my unfinished meal.
“I came here to escape the madness of New York, and you’re dragging me headfirst into its Mediterranean equivalent. My sanity is already hanging by a thread, Penny.” I retorted with a pout on my lips.
She smirked. “Oh, relax. It’s just a little fun. And isn’t it too early to complain?”
“It’s 2 p.m.,” I argued, gathering my things. “Isn’t it too early to prepare for a club?”
That’s when it hit me.
“Shit.”“What?” Penny asked, her brows furrowing.
“I forgot to call Mama and Baba!” I bolted inside, racing toward my wing of the house.
Why was this house so unnecessarily huge?After a sprint that felt like a marathon, I reached my room and grabbed my phone, dialing my dad. Despite the time difference, I knew he’d answer my call.
He answered on the second ring as expected, launching into a good-natured lecture about my forgetfulness. Mama was in the background, lamenting about how I almost gave her a heart-attack.
Dramatic much, I thought with an eye-roll.
By the time I’d finished chatting with both parents, I collapsed onto my bed, face-first into the pillows, utterly drained.
Penny appeared in the doorway, her brown eyes wide and pleading.
“Nope.” My muffled voice came from the depths of the pillow.
“I’ll buy you more of those flaming chips you like,” she offered slyly.
Damn it. My weakness.
Is she bribing me? Yes. Would I accept the bribe? Uh… Duh. We’re talking about the world’s best snack after chocolate, people.
Peeking out from behind the pillow, I gave her a reluctant nod. She squealed with delight, pouncing onto the bed with the energy of a golden retriever. Her excitement was contagious, and before long, I was laughing along with her.
“Ooooh, I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable.
********************************
“Penny, if you keep plucking my eyebrows, I’ll have none left!” I protested, wincing as she wielded the tweezers like a weapon.
“Hush,” she scolded, swatting my hands away. “Beauty takes time.”
“You said that three hours ago!” I groaned, but one look at her withering glare shut me up.
“And... done!” she announced triumphantly.
Finally.
I glanced at the mirror and had to admit: she was good. “Okay, fine. You win this round.”
“I told you to trust the process,” Penny said smugly, tossing the tweezers onto the vanity.
Turning, I surveyed the stream of clothes strewn across my room—a battlefield from our quest for the perfect “I’m getting fucked tonight” outfits. Pen’s words, not mine.
Slipping into a cherry-red romper, accessorized with gold chains and sleek black boots, Pen let her hair fall in loose waves, adding bold red lipstick to complete the flawless makeup she’d applied prior.
She looked stunning.
“If we weren’t related, I’d totally sleep with you,” I quipped, earning a laugh from her.
“And you look like the cover of Vogue,” she shot back. My dress—a sleek black wrap that hugged my curves perfectly—was a hard find. I didn’t even know I had it. Paired with three-inch heels that made my legs looked impossibly long and gold jewelry, I did look pretty hot.
“You’re welcome,” Penny added, fluffing her hair.
After bidding farewell to her mom, we took an Uber to Nyx, an exclusive club known for its elite clientele. One look at us, and the bouncers ushered us inside without a second thought.
The interior was dazzling—golden lights, luxurious decor, and an air of effortless sophistication. A live DJ spun electrifying beats that blasted through the speakers placed at strategic points and the dance floor pulsed with energy.
“This place is gorgeous,” I murmured, taking it all in. Everything about Nyx screamed opulence.
“I think I’ve found my target,” Penny interrupted, her gaze locked on a distinguished salt-and-pepper gentleman at the bar.
“I’ll see you at home. Don’t wait up!” she teased, sauntering off with a seductive sway in her hips.
“Wait—what?” I called after her. She disappeared into the crowd, leaving me stranded.
Did she just leave me? The little bitch.
As I stood there, debating whether to follow her or make a run for it, a smooth voice interrupted my thoughts.
“You’ve been invited to the VIP lounge.”
I turned to find a man with an easy smile and sharp features. He gestured toward a handsome stranger watching me from across the room, his eyes warm with intrigue.
Throwing caution to the wind, I accepted the invitation. If Penny could have her fun, so could I.
After all, it would be a crime to waste such a beautiful dress.
With my hands clasped around the elbow of the man who had delivered the invitation, I followed him into the VIP area.
Adira would come back.Not because I deserved it or because I begged her to.But because somewhere in that stubborn, fiery heart of hers, she still burned for me.I didn’t need to admit that to anyone else—hell, I barely admitted it to myself—but I knew. She was tied to me, as I was to her. It was like an invisible thread that wrapped tightly around us.So yeah, I'd sent her away. But I also knew I could have her back whenever I wanted. That knowledge, as toxic as it was, also gave me strength.I picked up my phone and dialed."Kace.""Boss," he replied, voice level."Pick her up."There was a pause. "Adira?""Do you think I'd trust anyone else with her?""…No." He laughed. "I'll bring her."I hung up and called Iason.He answered in a lazy voice. "Κύριε?"(Sir?)"Make sure Nefeli never tries the shit she pulled today again."He laughed roughly. "What, throwing herself at you?""Iason," I snarled."Fine, fine." I could hear his smile through the phone. "I'll keep the pest busy. Poor g
The hospital corridors still smelled of bleach and grief and I hated it. The sound of the monitors beeping, the way the doctors avoided our gazes, and the fake smiles they sent our way.Mama was managing, but Papa... not so well.And it gnawed at me."Someone's after him," I muttered as I left his room. "Or me. Or both."Penelope pushed her glasses. "You don't know that.""Well, I can sense it."Pen snorted. "You also sense things every time you try to guess what's in the fridge.""That’s different, Pen.""Ha, well, hospitals mess with your brain," Pen said. "You're losing it.""Am not.""Are too."She slung her arm over my shoulder. "What you need, cousin, is something to take your mind off it.""A nap?""No. New panties."I stopped short. "What?"She smiled, slyly. "New panties heal broken things."I glared at her. "You mean your brain cells?"Pen waved her free hand dismissively. "Semantics. New lace, new attitude. Trust me, it's therapeutic.""Since when is therapy lingerie-based?
The next day, I had a somewhat unexpected call. My phone rang, showing a name that never failed to exasperate me."Mother.""Andronikos, finally!" Her voice boomed through the line. "Do you really think you're too busy to answer your own mother? I could be dead and you'd not even know."I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You're not dead, Mama.""I may be," she snapped. "Do you ever eat? Sleep? Or do you just brood like your father, work all day and behave like a marble statue?""Mother.""No, don't try to cut me off. I’m serious. You need stability. A wife and children. That is how a man secures his line. Your father married me at twenty-one, Andronikos. Twenty-one! Where is my grandchild? Where is my daughter-in-law? Do you want me to die without—""Ochi pali," I sighed. "This again?”“Yes! This again! You're thirty-eight years old and still, no children, no ring, nothing! If you don't get to it soon, your wife will need a construction crew to raise her hips to give birth.""Mother, p
Regardless of how much I didn’t want to, I couldn't help but watch over my little flame. Stalking? Maybe. But I'd do anything to protect her… and keep her within my sight.I told myself I had to let her go. That I'd driven her out of my life because she was a risk, a pawn, nothing more than that.But every time I told myself that lie, the truth followed behind like a pesky shadow.I hadn't taken her guards away. She didn't know, but they were still around her. Men in plain clothes were stationed discreetly around the hospital, as well as her apartment, tracking her movements.I told myself it was for her protection. That if she was on her own, without any form of it, she’d get hurt. But I knew deep down that the truth was I couldn’t let her go.That’s why the news of her father's collapse pissed me off.Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t care for the man or her mother.Hell, I'd vowed to inscribe my revenge on his bones someday. But the fact that the drink that was meant to blow a heart
When Pen and I were out, Baba stopped us. "Pen, can I borrow Adira for a bit?""Sure, Uncle. I'll wait outside," she said with a smile, then left.I stepped back, the worry uncoiling once more. "What's wrong?" I asked.He looked at me, his face suddenly sober. “Sit,” he said.We sat on the chairs provided for visitors. Baba folded his hands on his lap. “It’s about the fire problem,” he said without preamble. “Insurance covered a portion of the loss, and the carriers are paying. We’re fine. Mostly.”Relief washed through me, albeit briefly. “So it’s not—”“It's bad," he cut in, taking a sip from the bottle of water he’d gotten me. I wasn’t in the mood to drink anything earlier, so I gave it to him. "But not fatal. You made a mess, Adira, but we'll clean up the rest." His voice was even, and I only wished I could believe him.I tried to swallow the knot in my throat. "Thank you, Baba," I whispered.“It’s not a matter of 'thanks’, Adira,” he replied. “Just… Hope we can get out of this.”
I woke to the muffled scuffle of shoes and the antiseptic hum of the ward.For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was, then the bed creaked beneath me and reality seeped back like an unwelcome tide.I was by myself on the bed Baba had insisted they give us, with a thin blanket folded beneath my knees. Pen's scarf was crumpled beside me, and my hair smelled faintly of hospital soap and the tears of the previous night.“Have you seen my father?" I asked the nurse the moment she turned to me, my voice small and raspy.She had on the professional, tired smile that nurses wear. "He's in there, dear. With your mom. She's awake. The doctor wanted her to rest a bit before visitors could come, but he—" she hesitated, glancing at my face, "—he's fine. You look tired. You should try to rest.""I—no—" I sat up. "Is he okay? Is Mama okay?""He's with her now," she said again, softly. "You can go in for a few minutes. But please be quiet. She needs quiet right now."I nodded, climbed off the cot, and







