Chapter Seventeen

“I wasn’t going to do what he asked,” she said. “But it’s true I asked him to pretend to have an affair with me. It was before I got to know you, and now I’m glad we didn’t do it. I would have regretted it so much.”

Dion stared at the road ahead as his car ate up the miles between the hospital and his house. He white-knuckled the steering wheel, holding it so hard it was like he was trying to snap it in half. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” Sophia replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see how intently she watched him. But he wouldn’t turn his head. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be giving me the silent treatment right now.”

He scoffed. “We’re two weeks married, and you’re already using words like ‘silent treatment.’ I guess all marriages have clichés, even the fake ones.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

Of course she did. If he was any more obviously pushing her away, then he’d have been wearing his intentions in flashing neon. But the pain was too real now, and he didn’t have time to take a delicate approach.

Elias was gone.

His mentor was gone.

His only semblance of a family was gone.

The void pulsed inside him like a beast, waiting to devour him whole the second he allowed it. In some ways, he’d welcomed Theo’s punch. Because the bruise forming on his cheek would give him something to focus on. A way to redirect the pain away from the inside and into something tangible. To something that he could control.

The important thing here was that he remembered what Elias had said: we cannot learn without pain.

Even in death, the old man continued to teach him. The reason he was hurting now was because he’d opened himself up to love. If you love, you can lose…and he’d been bankrupted in one shot. He couldn’t let it happen again.

“This isn’t about the thing with Theo,” she said.

“Don’t you dare say his name!” His throat was scraped raw, and the sound of his pain echoed in the car. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Dion, I know you’re hurting, but I don’t expect to be yelled at.” Sophia’s voice wavered as she spoke. But that was his wife in a nutshell—she spoke clearly and concisely in the face of anything and anyone. She said her mind, spoke her truth. And she didn’t shy away from the difficult things. “What Theo said is bullshit. Elias was your father, in all the ways that count. And, in the same way, you were his son.”

“Stop it.” He barreled down the road, desperate to get home so he could lock himself away.

“And I was never going to take the ring from you,” she said. “One, because I am not a thief. And two, because I know how much it means to you.”

A fucking ring. That’s all that was left after more than a decade of friendship. Of love. How was it possible to pour so much time into something and be left with so little?

“Dion…” The way she said his name made his chest squeeze. Any other person would have turned away from him. He was like a wounded bear, lashing out, and still she spoke to him like she truly cared. Did she care?

He wanted her to. The realization made him feel ill. He was already too close, and he already knew that she would leave. By caring, he was simply setting himself up for failure. For more pain.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said eventually.

“I want you to say nothing. I thought I made that clear.” He pulled up into the driveway and got out of the car, disbelief and anger and turmoil filling his body with nervous energy. He stalked toward the house, and Sophia followed him, her sandals slapping against the stone path.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

He raked a hand through his hair. Fuck, he was being an asshole. But the black emotions swirled inside him with such force that it felt like he wasn’t even in control of his own body anymore. And the thought of her going to Theo, asking him to concoct an affair…it burned him up inside.

“Please.” She approached him, one hand outstretched. “I’m here for you.”

“I don’t want you to be here for me.” He had to lie, because it was the only way he could protect himself now.

It was incredible how much the truth came to light in moments of intense pain. Like the mind suddenly wiped away all the noise so that all that remained were the important bits.

Like the fact that Dion liked his wife. A lot.

He liked waking up smelling her hair. He liked going to sleep with her body tucked against his. He liked all the bits that happened between them getting into bed and going to sleep. He liked the movies and puzzles and that one evening where she spent two whole hours showing him the Pinterest board for her dream cottage.

He liked how she didn’t take his bullshit and she called him on his behavior. They challenged each other, supported each other. They loved pulling pranks and being playful with each other.

Yeah, he liked her way more than was safe.

“I’m on your side. We’re a team, remember.”

“We’re a piece of paper.” He kept his face neutral. The road ahead would have a lot of difficult things—he was the executor of Elias’s estate. Which would mean dealing with Theo, organizing the funeral, going through all of his mentor’s things.

Being reminded over and over and over that they weren’t family.

“We’re a piece of paper and more,” she said. “I know we didn’t start out the way most people do, but—”

“No.” If he heard the rest of that sentence, he might crumble, and he couldn’t afford to be weak right now. “I want you to go into that house and pack your things.”

“What?” She shook her head.

“Pack your things. Iva will organize the company jet to take you home.” Each word was like swallowing acid. “We got married. I bought your father’s company because I have every intention of destroying it. End of story.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Your father’s old boss, Aristos Katopodis… He’s my real father.” Saying his name was enough to make Dion want to smash something. He vowed to never speak it aloud again.

Sophia stared at him, her dark eyes unblinking. Staring vacantly. “That’s why you didn’t care that you had to marry me. It was all about your revenge.”

The way she said it was like a knife in Dion’s chest—like she was disappointed that he wasn’t the man she thought him to be.

“What does it matter, if he’s dead?” she asked, confused.

“I never existed to him, so I’m making sure he doesn’t exist to me.” He felt the darkness swirling inside him—the black tar of toxic anger. Resentment. “Or to anyone else.”

“That’s not who you are, Dion. You’re not a hateful person.” Her cheeks were pink, and tears glistened in her eyes.

“You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do. But I’m worried you don’t know yourself.”

“This is your official permission to stop caring, okay? I got what I needed.”

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way, but it didn’t stop a tear dropping down on her cheek. She didn’t deserve this. Not one little bit.

It’s better this way. You’re protecting her as much as you’re protecting yourself. She’ll move on, find someone who deserves her.

He hadn’t felt this much self-loathing since the day he watched yet another family walk away with a little boy who wasn’t him. The day he decided that he would choose to be alone, because at least then it was his decision.

“That’s all you care about, even now. Even after all the time we’ve spent together?” She shook her head. “You don’t care at all if I walk away?”

He knew saying it again would be like swallowing thorns, but he was angry. Hurt. Grieving. And he didn’t ever want to go through this again. “Like I said, I got what I needed.”

“Screw you.” She looked at him like she was hoping he’d spontaneously combust. “I know we shared something, even if this wasn’t a real marriage. Because I can be honest with myself, even if you can’t.”

She turned and walked toward the house, her arms swinging forcefully by her sides. A second later, the front door slammed, and the loud noise sent birds scattering into the sky. He was alone again.

Just like he was supposed to be.

…

Sophia couldn’t remember a time when she’d slept so soundly or so deeply. She woke early, while the sun still had that buttery quality that she’d loved about Brooklyn before the city truly woke. But despite the small hour, it felt like she’d slept for days.

Unsurprising, since she’d stolen one of her mother’s sleeping tablets. Not her best move, admittedly. But after two full days on home soil and still being unable to sleep, she needed some reprieve. Her mind was exhausted from running through her fight with Dion over and over like a bad movie stuck on a loop.

But it was clear after coming home that this house wasn’t actually home. She’d never felt cherished here. Never felt as though she belonged. It was a good thing, Sophia had told herself. It cemented why she could never live here again.

Her father had been circling like a shark since she set foot into the house, and she’d been doing her best to avoid him. But that would have top stop. She needed to deal with this situation so she could move on. It was time to break free. For good.

“Sophia!” her father called. “Come and see me in my office.”

Sucking in a breath, she went to see her father. The early light spilled into the room crammed with his social trophies. The sight of the fake Eames chair turned her stomach because it immediately reminded her of what Dion had looked like in Paris, long legs stretched out while he worked on his laptop early in the morning so they could spend time together during the day.

Cyrus pushed out of his chair and came toward her, his large frame casting a big shadow. It had been a long time since she’d viewed him as anything but the villain of her story.

“Mrs. Kourakis.” His smile sent a chill through her. “How does it feel to be married?”

“I still feel like me.” She turned to gaze at the window, willing the soft, rolling clouds to soothe her.

You can do this.

“I’m assuming the honeymoon is already over, since you’re here at home instead of being with your new husband. Am I right?”

“He’s away on business,” she lied. “And I missed Mom.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes at her. “I need you to do me a favor.”

One day, she’d need to tell her father the real definition of a favor…and that it implied reciprocation. “What’s that?”

“Find something on him.” Cyrus folded his arms over his chest. “Something juicy.”

She almost wanted to laugh. Her father had no idea that she already had something juicy—that Europe’s most beloved billionaire had a father who’d turned out to be a thug and a deadbeat dad. It was no reflection on Dion, but the tabloids didn’t need much to splash across the front of their papers. It would be negative press. A huge breach of Dion’s privacy and an embarrassment. Sophia’s father would gobble it up.

But she had no intention of telling a soul. She would not betray Dion’s trust.

“You want me to dig up dirt on my husband,” Sophia said. “So you can blackmail him into giving us the company back?”

“Smart girl.” Cyrus put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll kill two birds with one stone. Get the company back, get you an annulment so you can come home and be with your family for good. That way you won’t have to miss your mom anymore.”

Some part of her wished she could be shocked by her father’s devious plan—but she knew him too well. Of course this was what he’d planned all along. “You never intended for me to stay married to him, did you?”

Her father shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She could already guess.

“Apart from the fact that you would have kicked and screamed like an insolent child?” He raised a brow. “Well. Even more than you already did?”

“Sorry I have a conscience,” she said, straight-faced.

“You would have blown it. I’m proud of the fact that I raised such an honest daughter, but that means I had to keep you in the dark.” His hand tightened on her shoulder.

Honest…yeah, right. She’d been lying to Dion from day one. First by letting him think she was this wild, kooky person, and then by not telling him what Theo had asked of her. Not being honest that she was failing to keep her distance from him.

She’d been lying to herself, too.

“You should look happier, Sophia. You said you never wanted to marry him in the first place, and now I’m giving you the perfect solution.”

“Only if I rifle through his secrets and find something for you to hurt him with.” She looked up at her father. Had there ever been any good in this man? Had there ever been anything real that her mother had fallen in love with? Or had she been so desperate for survival that she overlooked his need for control?

Mom, why did you do it? Why do you love him?

“It won’t matter in the end. Whatever you find will be kept a secret, anyway. It’s not like we’ll go public with it.” He looked genuinely baffled by her response, and for a moment Sophia wondered if maybe he had no idea how much his actions hurt others. How unhappy his steamrolling made her. “I really don’t see what the problem is.”

“Shocker.” She rolled her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She couldn’t help herself. Maybe living away from her father these past weeks had amplified his bad behaviour. His bullying. Or maybe it was that Dion helped her believe that she was a strong person, a determined person…despite everything her family had ever told her.

“It means you only ever see what benefits you,” she replied, her voice sharp. “Not our family, like you claim.”

This time, she couldn’t find the strength to swallow down the resentment. Was having a father like Cyrus really better than not having one at all? Was having a mother who was unable to prevent her daughter from being manipulated better than having no mother at all?

Guilt stabbed her in the gut. She loved her mother, even with her flaws. But she could no longer shoulder the responsibility of trying to make this family whole. They were broken. She had to accept that.

“Shouldn’t this be a chance for you to change your ways?” she asked. “You’ve got a fresh start. No debts, no boss. You could be a good man.”

“I am a good man.” Her father’s indignant response told her everything she would need to know: at no point, ever, would Cyrus Andreou change. “I put food on the table for you and your mother. Even when business was slim, I found a way to feed you. I put a roof over your heads, paid for your schooling, and gave you everything you could ever need. Regardless of what you think, everything I do is for this family.”

For a moment, Sophia saw that her father really believed himself. He really believed that he had their best interests at heart—that every dirty trick he pulled was for the betterment of the three of them. Maybe this was the only way he knew how to show love.

Her father swallowed. “I never wanted you to go through what your mother did when she was young. Her father didn’t take care of his family properly, and they suffered. I will never let that happen.”

Her heart ached. Her father could have been a good man—a caring man. But his obsession with controlling every aspect of their lives was so deeply ingrained he would never change. He saw control as his duty, his responsibility…and he would not relinquish it.

But she refused to continue bending to his warped ideas about loyalty and family.

“Control isn’t love, Dad.” Sophia couldn’t regret the words, only that it had taken her so long to say them. “I’m done letting you make decisions for me.”

The morning of the wedding had proven to Sophia that Dorothy Andreou would only see the light if she chose it. Nothing Sophia could do would ever make a difference. And at some point, she had to take responsibility for herself. She couldn’t be a prisoner forever.

“What do you mean?” he scoffed.

“I mean I’m done.” She felt the power rise up in her, power Dion had helped her to find. He’d changed her, helped her to be in this position. “I’m not going to help you bring him down. I won’t do it.”

She stood rooted to the ground while adrenaline pumped all through her body. The thought of betraying Dion made her sick to her stomach. It would have been easy to cave to her father, especially after Dion banished her from his house. But he didn’t deserve it. Anger and grief had made him lash out, but that didn’t make him a bad person.

They both had pasts that had given them scars. Flaws. Neither one of them was perfect. But they’d become better together. They’d learned to talk and share, and she knew that if they kept trying, maybe they could overcome the twisted beliefs gifted by their fathers.

The thing her father didn’t understand, however, was that now she held the power. She would never give up Dion’s secret about who his real father was—not to her father. Not to anyone.

Her heart fluttered like a butterfly trapped under someone’s glass, but she wouldn’t let it show. “I came home to say goodbye. I’m going to pack my things and leave tonight, and that’s the last you’ll ever hear from me. I’m done being part of this family. Mom can call me whenever she wants, but consider yourself free of your ungrateful daughter.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.” Cyrus’s dark eyes flashed as he stared her down.

But Sophia had a revelation then: the man was all bark and no bite. He had nothing but bluster and words to do his bidding. She’d let those words beat her into submission her entire life, leaving her small and unable to breathe from where she lay trapped under his thumb.

She was far from helpless now.

Sophia lifted her chin, confidence roaring through her blood. “No. I’m not.” She pinned him with a glare, something she’d never dared to let cross her face in his presence before. “And don’t even think about hurting Mom, because I’ve been doing the books for your business the last few years. I know how much money you’ve squirreled away. And I’ll be happy to share that information with your business associates if you do anything to upset her.”

It was a bluff. She had only suspicions, rather than facts. But she ran laps around him when it came to administration, so he wouldn’t necessarily know it was a bluff.

“You wouldn’t.” He tried to maintain his angry demeanor, but his face had turned white as a sheet. Sophia’s instincts were clearly on the money…no pun intended.

Difference was, now she had the confidence to face him down. To not buckle under the weight of his control. She wouldn’t be his puppet any longer.

“Best you use the money Dion gave you to pay those men back,” she said. “I hear they’re very determined when they think someone is dodging them.”

Masking the tumultuous combination of relief, victory, and lingering terror, she walked out of her father’s office and up the stairs to the bedroom that had been her prison for twenty-six years.

She paused at the doorway, her body almost trembling with emotion. She’d done it. She’d really done it. After years of saying yes, she finally had found the courage to say no. It felt so freeing she wondered if her feet might actually be hovering above the floor.

She was her own woman now. A free woman.

And all she wanted to do was celebrate with Dion, the man who’d given her that courage. Who’d shown her how strong she could be.

It wouldn’t take long to pack—she didn’t own much beside her wardrobe of “good-daughter” clothes. She would use her savings to book a flight back to Corfu. Dion might not want her back, but she had to tell him how she felt, even if he would likely turn her away.

The fact was, she cared about her husband. A lot. He’d changed her for the better, made her into the person who could stand up to Cyrus Andreou. Who could see that she didn’t have to be a victim of her mother’s choices. Who could take the life she’d always wanted instead of wallowing in fear. That was the woman he’d helped her become, and she was damn proud of it. Of them both.

Wasn’t that the mark of real love? Growth and change for the better? She’d forever bear the imprint of him, bear the influence of him. He’d made her better, and she wanted him to see that.

Because Sophia Kourakis was not Sophia Andreou. And that was a damned good thing.