Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies Duet Book 1) Read online

  Hidden Truths

  Copyright © 2019 K Webster

  Copyright © 2019 Nikki Ash

  Designer: All by Design

  Photo: Adobe Stock

  Editor: Emily A. Lawrence, Lawrence Editing

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  About This Book

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements From Nikki Ash

  Acknowledgements from K Webster

  About Nikki Ash

  Author K Webster

  Books by Nikki Ash

  Books by K Webster

  My life was easy, simple, fun.

  Light.

  Until I got wrapped up with the wrong people.

  Nothing but a piece of property to pay for the sins of my father.

  I’m to be married off to a handsome monster.

  I see his truths every day, and it’s hard not to fall for the enemy.

  He won’t let me escape, but I’m not sure I want to.

  I wanted to marry for love, but it looks like love is a lie.

  To our readers, thank you for continuing to trust us with your hearts.

  Kostas

  The dark blue waters of Mirabello Bay are calm this evening. Unlike the storm brewing inside me. Where the sea before me shimmers in a serene way beneath the moonlight, the one I hold claim to is raging.

  Skoulíki.

  I lift my tumbler to my lips and sip the ouzo, relishing the burn that races down my throat when I swallow. It only adds fuel to the anger flickering inside me, threatening to spread like wildfire. When my wrath has been unleashed, men who wrong me—who shit on the Demetriou name—get burned.

  Someone clears their throat. Just once. Quietly. A reminder to move the fuck on.

  Yes, Father.

  Reluctantly tearing my gaze from the bay, I regard my new guest with cold, barely contained contempt. A skoulíki in our rich, fruitful soil. A man so slimy and dirty, I can barely look at him. He doesn’t belong here, tainting the exquisite room he’s sitting in.

  Niles Nikolaides.

  Nothing but a filthy worm in dire need of being plucked from the dirt and fed to a fucking bird. Ignoring the piece of shit who’s sitting uncomfortably in a leather armchair, with all eyes on him, I skim my gaze around the room. They’re all waiting for me to make a move, especially Father.

  The move I want to make is to grab Niles by the throat and throw him off the goddamn balcony. Too easy. Too fucking easy for a man like him. A man who has been stealing from right under our noses. Allowing passage into Thessaloniki without paying the Demetriou tax.

  “You think because we are in Crete we don’t see what it is you’re up to at our port?” I ask, my tone icy and condescending.

  Niles clenches his jaw and sits up, shaking his head. His good looks won’t help him in a room full of men who hate him. And while my father has never come out and stated why, I can see pure hatred for Niles flickering in his hazel eyes.

  Father leans back on the leather sofa, and a small smirk tugs at his lips. He’s enjoying seeing Niles in the hot seat, the center of my thunderous attention. Beside him, my brother, Aris, grins. While forcing Niles to squirm some more—like the worm he is—as he waits for me to continue, I study my brother.

  Aris is so different from Father and me with our dark hair, calculating eyes, and permanent scowls.

  Ezio Demetriou and I could pass for brothers rather than father and son. It’s Aris who stands out with his golden skin, light brown hair, and playful brown eyes. He is soft to our hard. Warm to our cold. Weak to our strong. Aris is my mother made over, much to my father’s disappointment.

  “Sir,” Niles starts unwisely.

  I sear him with a glare. “You are here to listen, fíle.” Friend.

  Aris snorts, earning a sharp look from our father. We all know Niles is no friend.

  Motioning with a quick flick of my fingers, two of my most trusted men approach from the shadows of the room. They’re dressed in black suits, hiding enough weapons to take out a small army beneath their jackets. Adrian and Basil are the largest men in this room. Imposing, threatening, cruel. All it takes is one nod of my head and they’ll drag Niles, the skoulíki from Thessaloniki, to the kelári for a proper punishment. A punishment extracted with his blood. He must sense the violent storm churning in my eyes because he does what they all do.

  Spews more bullshit.

  “I can make this right, Kostas,” Niles pleads, eyeing Adrian and Basil warily. “I was in a bad place. Everything is better now. Think of it as a loan.”

  Ignoring him, I walk over to the table where the expensive bottle of ouzo sits and refill my glass. I pour two fingers’ worth of the clear liquor into the glass of ice and then splash in some water from a decanter. Like oil trying to mix with water, the ouzo becomes cloudy, but never truly mixes. I give the tumbler a shake before draining the glass and setting it back down.

  “Ena macheri,” I demand coolly to Basil, holding out my hand.

  Basil pulls a sharp Benchmade Nimravus knife from inside his jacket. At just four and a half inches, it’s small enough to conceal, but long enough to do lethal damage. Niles knows this because he starts shaking his head.

  “No, Kostas, listen,” he pleads. “It was all part of my plan. To get into better graces with the Demetriou name.”

  I take the knife from Basil and study the pointy tip of the blade. “Explain how you taking our taxes and keeping them for yourself, when it is us who allows the ships passage into the ports, gets you into good graces with us.” I dart my gaze to my brother. “Aris may be the numbers whiz here, but I must say, even I know something isn’t adding up.”

  Niles, known for his killer smile and charm, pales as a frown wrinkles his brow. He ages ten years before me. His green eyes that usually light up with a calculating glint have dulled. A man knows when death is knocking on his door. He may not want to answer, but we’re fucking here whether he likes it or not.

  The n
egotiator slides back into the pilot seat as Niles’s eyes light up with their usual devious glow. “The numbers didn’t add up when you started tripling the taxes I owed a decade ago,” Niles says without meeting my father’s barely hidden murderous stare. “And yet I didn’t argue. I paid my dues to the Demetrious.”

  Father’s eyes narrow and a vein jumps in his neck. Aris frowns, shooting me a questioning look. It’s rare for my father to show emotion. He hates Niles. Always has. It’s always been clear to me, although I’ve never understood why. Nor have I asked.

  Niles is smarmy.

  That’s enough for me to have my father’s back.

  “Your point?” I demand in a bored tone, picking at my nail with the tip of Basil’s knife. “I feel as though you’re unsuccessfully trying to make one.”

  “My point is I’ve been paying more and more over the years without argument. The taxes I collect on your behalf at the port are being underutilized. All I did was gain new contracts. I didn’t take from your current ones.” His face breaks out in a grin, as though his new reasoning will somehow save him from my wrath.

  “The territory still belongs to us,” I snap, no longer able to keep my fury on a leash.

  Aris smirks at my outburst, while Father’s brows furl together in an irritated way.

  Sorry, Father, but this prick is pissing me off.

  Taking a deep breath, I regain some composure before I speak again. “The territory is ours. Therefore, new contracts are ours. That fucking means new taxes are ours.”

  “And you’ll get your money,” Niles lies smoothly. “You always do. I’ve simply invested it in other ventures. When I earn it back, which is soon, you’ll be paid back for the taxes. Plus interest.”

  I can tell Father wants to take over. He doesn’t like that I’m allowing Niles to continue to plead his case. The worm needs to die.

  “What are these other ventures?” I ask, ignoring the anger rolling from my father in waves.

  “Mostly trafficking,” Niles says, his green eyes flaring with wickedness. “Of the human variety.”

  My stomach roils in disgust. Not because of what he’s chosen to traffic, but the fact he’s allowing these vermin to pass through our ports. The Demetrious aren’t the mafia or cartel. No, we’re a dominant crime organization. Masters of power, influence, and wealth. We manipulate it to our advantage without having to scrape the bottom of the barrel ever.

  Niles lives there.

  In the dirty, dank bottom with all the other worms.

  I want to fucking drown him.

  “Basil,” I boom, no longer interested in speaking with this lowlife. “Take him to the kelári.” I point the blade at Niles. “I’ll finish this conversation when we’re alone.” And when I’m cutting his useless tongue from his mouth.

  Father rises from the sofa, giving me a subtle shake of his head. Aris sees and lifts his brows in surprise. To any other man, this is nothing. To our family, it’s a crushing blow.

  He’s undermining my authority.

  My father doesn’t like my choice to kill him.

  Rather than arguing with my father—something Aris would do—I clench my teeth and take a step back to give him the limelight. White-hot fury blazes inside me. Why doesn’t he want this asshole dead tonight? He fucking stole from us. Lied to us. Whatever decade long hard-on for punishment my father has against Niles is getting old. It goes against everything he’s taught me.

  Loyalty is everything.

  Niles is far from loyal. He’s as disloyal as one can get. The motherfucker has blatantly admitted to stealing from us for his own agenda. Any other fool would be in the kelári, paying for his crimes with flesh and blood and screams.

  Not Niles.

  Never Niles.

  Why do you keep him around, Father?

  “Take a walk with me,” Father tells Niles. “You too, Kostas.”

  Aris’s jaw clenches at being left behind. As he should be. The men are talking. Niles rises, his green eyes darting between my father and me in confusion. When my father walks out onto the balcony, Niles and I follow suit. I close the door behind us and inhale the salty sea air.

  Father leans against the balcony wrought iron railing and regards Niles as though he is a fungus. A fungus he’s devoted his life to trying to destroy. Not kill, destroy. I’ve observed my father enough to learn to read his eyes. He says very little, but his eyes are telling if you’re watching. He enjoys ruining Niles, but never ending him.

  “You owe our family something far more valuable than your worthless life,” Father tells him, his voice cold and cruel. “Do you agree?”

  Niles, clearly eager to save his ass from death, nods emphatically. “I do. I’ll get you your money. Soon, Ezio.”

  Father’s nostrils flare, his only tell at how disgusted he is to have to deal with Niles. “Money is of no issue. It’s a way we control people like you.” He sneers. “What I want is priceless to a man like you.”

  Niles frowns, and his body stiffens. “And what is that?”

  When Father glances my way, his eyes quickly assessing me, a cold chill numbs me to my bone. I don’t like feeling as though I’m a pawn in this game. I’m a power player. I own the fucking board right along with my father. His telling eyes state otherwise.

  “Pérasma Hotel & Villas could use a little sunshine,” Father says, smirking at Niles. “I know my son could use a little warmth.”

  Our Greek resort that’s a gateway to the Aegean Sea is known for its warm, picturesque location. While we may run darker business under our bright resort face, it’s never for a lack of sun. My father is talking in riddles and it infuriates me. We’re practically partners, and whatever game he’s been playing with Niles for years, I’m not on his team. It’s man against man, and I’m simply a weapon to be used.

  Niles sucks in a sharp breath. “No.”

  Father’s brow lifts high up his forehead. “No?”

  No is not in Father’s vocabulary. I learned that from an early age.

  “I, uh,” Niles stammers. “You know that’s unfair.”

  The malevolence in my father’s eyes is enough to have Niles taking a step back. “Life is unfair,” Father tells Niles. “But at least you’ll have one. I believe this is the best you could ever hope for.”

  And like a worm caught in a hawk’s beak, Niles squirms with unease.

  He’ll devour you one day.

  One simple nod is all it takes from Niles to seal their deal. Niles Nikolaides will live to see another day because he just negotiated something that is clearly very important to him.

  Fucking fool.

  Talia

  “What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand?” I pluck the metal tumbler out of Alex’s still hand and bring it to my nose, sniffing the contents. “Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?”

  I drop to my knees on the hardwood floor and bow my head in a position of prayer. Tears prick my eyes as I glance up at the man before me, lying still in the tomb. “I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them to make me die with a restorative.”

  Crawling into the tomb with Alex, I snuggle up next to him and place a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darts out playfully, and I have to stifle a laugh. “Thy lips are warm!”

  From a distance, a masculine voice calls out, “Lead, boy. Which way?”

  “Yeah, noise?” I ask no one. “Then I’ll be brief.”

  Reaching over Alex’s body, I find his dagger and pull it out. The silver metal glistens in the light. “O, happy dagger! This is my sheath.” With tears trailing down my cheeks, I stab myself in the stomach and let my body fall limply against Alex’s.

  With my eyes closed, I lie in the tomb, listening as the guards speak around me, trying to figure out what has happened. Next my mother and father enter. My mother screams and cries and begs for answers, while my father demands to know what’s happened. Alex and I continue to
lie still while the friar explains everything from our love, to our death. My parents cry and mourn the loss of their daughter.

  And then the prince speaks. “A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. For never was a story more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

  The curtains close, and the auditorium booms with applause.

  “You are such a beautiful Juliet,” Alex says, lifting onto his forearms and caging me in.

  “And you are a handsome Romeo,” I say back.

  Alex’s lips curl into a boyish grin. His face comes down, about to kiss me, but before our lips meet, we hear, “Not now! Not now! Out! Out!” Professor Marino chides. “We have curtain call! Come!”

  Alex steps out of the tomb first and then helps me to my feet, lifting and setting me down. “Later,” he murmurs into my ear. Blush creeps up my neck and cheeks, heating my skin.

  We form a line, and the curtains open. Everyone bows and curtsies, and the applause starts up once more. My eyes dart across the people and land on my family. My mom’s face splits into a huge smile. Our eyes meet, and she mouths, I love you.

  I love you more, I mouth back.

  My eyes land on my brother next. With his fingers between his lips, he’s whistling so loud, the sound overpowers the applause. My eyes roll of their own accord, but deep down, I’m happy to see him here. When I was ten, and he was fifteen, our parents divorced. I moved to Rome to live with my mom and her parents, but my brother, Phoenix, stayed with our father in Thessaloniki. I hate the distance between us, but there was no way of going around it. I wasn’t about to stay in Greece without our mom, and Phoenix couldn’t leave. Running the family business with our father was never not an option.

  My eyes leave my brother’s and roam over to my stepdad, Stefano. Then, I smile when I see my grandfather and grandmother, Emilio and Vera, still affectionately referred to as Nonno and Nonna. They’re all clapping and beaming with pride.

  The curtain closes once again and everyone cheers. “Magnifico!” Professor Marino exclaims. “What a wonderful way to end the semester. Go now and greet your families. I will see all of you in August. Enjoy your summer…but not too much.” She winks playfully, and we all laugh.