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SEVENTY FIVE
publish date:
2026-09-23 02:29:00
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Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY FIVE
GREGORI pulled the armchair up to the foot of the bed and sat. My legs had begun to hum, an exhausted, wobbly sort of hum. I watched her breathe. In. Out. A small catch at the top of each breath, like a hinge that wanted oil.The fan turned its head from side to side. Somewhere down the street, a lorry reversed with a steady chirp. The room smelled of lemon and cold air.I was nearly asleep when her eyes opened.She didn't move. She looked at the ceiling first, then followed the line of the wall until her gaze found me. For a moment, she seemed uncertain of where she was. Then her expression shifted."Gregor."I straightened. "What's wrong?""Gregor...""I'm listening."She wet her lips. "What's the worst thing I could do to you?"I sat forward. The armchair creaked. "That's an interesting question to wake up to.""The worst thing." Her voice was slow and careful, as though she were trying to get every word right. "If you had to choose, what would it be?""Why are you asking me that?
Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY FOUR
GREGORThe rain had left the streets dark and reflective. A street sweeper had come out in its wake, a lone man using a wide broom to push wet leaves towards a drain. A cat perched on a wall, watching us pass with the indifference of something that had never had a particularly difficult day in its life.The apartment smelled as it always did, of polished wood and nothing else. I carried her upstairs, her weight draped over my shoulder, and managed to get the front door open with my elbow. I had barely crossed the threshold when she stirred."Gregor?""Still here."She made a small, unhappy sound."I think I'm going to be sick.""Right. Hold on.""I really think I'm going to...""I heard you the first time."I didn't make it any further.She heaved against my back, and I felt the warm splash across the tiles before the sound reached me. I froze, every muscle tightening. Then she heaved again."Oh, God." Her voice was barely audible. "I'm sorry. Gregor, I'm so sorry.""It's all right."
Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY THREE
GREGOR"Gregor!""I'm here."She was out of her chair before I could take another step. Her hands caught the front of my jacket, and she pulled me towards her with enough force to send the chair crashing backward across the flagstones. Her arms went around my neck. Her wet cheek pressed against my collar."You came." Her voice broke against my shoulder. "I wasn't sure you would."I tightened my good arm around her, mindful of the other, and rubbed her back with my bandaged hand. Slow, absent circles between her shoulder blades. She was trembling so badly that I could feel it through both our clothes."Where else would I be?"She drew a shaky breath, but whatever she meant to say dissolved against my collar."Come on," I murmured. "Let's get you out of here.""I can walk.""I know.""I mean it, Gregor. I'm perfectly capable of walking.""I haven't suggested otherwise."She pulled back to look at me, though she kept one hand curled into my jacket. "I'm not helpless.""I know that too, J
Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY TWO
GREGORThe roads were dry in some places, but most of them were still slick under the gray afternoon sky. Palm fronds blocked the inside lane of the ring road, so I moved into the outside lane just as a lorry behind me blared its horn.I kept going.The first traffic light turned amber, and I kept going. The second turned red, so I slammed on the brakes. My seat belt dug into my chest, and for a few seconds, black spots floated in my vision.“Shit.”I held the steering wheel and waited for the spots to clear. Rania's voice echoed in my mind, warning me about dizziness, about driving, about all the sensible things I was ignoring. I rolled down the window and let the damp air hit my face.When the light changed, my vision was back to normal. I drove off, pressing my foot harder on the accelerator than I should have.The old tram depot stood with a row of gray warehouses, its roof partly collapsed and its tracks lost in weeds. I turned onto Dimitriou Street, where the road narrowed betwe
Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY ONE
GREGORThe call rang out with no answer. Justina’s recorded voice, brisk and perfectly composed, greeted me and asked for a message after the tone. I hung up quietly and called again.All eight rings brought the same greeting and the same silence.“Pick up,” I muttered.Behind me, Mother folded the handkerchief into a neat square and slipped it into her sleeve. Some color had come back to her face, though it was uneven across her cheeks. She looked from my bandaged hand to the phone, then to the door.“Go,” she said.“Mother...”“I will sit with the boy. Nobody is going to move me from that chair.” She straightened her lapel, a small, careful gesture that showed me she had ended the conversation. “Find her, Gregor. And when you do, remember that she is frightened.”I stared at her. “You just told me she threatened you.”“Both things can be true.” She met my eyes. “You said as much yourself.”There was no point in arguing. My son was upstairs, barely conscious, and his mother had disap
Keeping a secret from the Greek Tycoon HUNDRED THIRTY
JUSTINASomething loosened in my chest, and something else tightened in its place. The feeling was close enough to gratitude that I could have mistaken it for that, if it hadn't tasted so much like a mistake.I looked down at his hand around my wrist, then reached for the bottle. I finished what remained in three swallows, tipping my head back until the last mouthful slid down my throat and left a bitter trail behind it.“We should go,” I said.“Okay.”“Gregor will be...” I stopped, unable to decide whether I meant worried, angry, or already looking for me. “Somebody will be looking.”“Okay.”I planted both palms on the table and pushed myself upright.The floor had apparently moved while I wasn't paying attention. It tipped beneath me, slowly and deliberately, like the deck of a ferry, and my knees gave way before I'd even straightened. My chair scraped backward. I grabbed for the table, caught its edge, and felt my fingers slide uselessly along the polished wood.For one absurd seco
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