Stolen Lies (Truths and Lies Duet Book 2) Page 2

  I shake my head, giving up on explaining to her for the millionth time, my daughter is probably smarter at six months old than she is at…however old she is. It’s hard to tell. Her voice is screechy and whiny, giving off a young vibe, but all the makeup makes her appear to be older. “Never mind. What do you want?”

  “Dinner’s ready.” Oh, dear Lord, please tell me she’s ordered something. If I have to eat one more of her home-cooked meals I’m going to throw myself off this cliff. I’m going to seriously have to have a talk with Aris when he gets home. Just because she’s decided she wants to try and play house, doesn’t mean I have to be punished.

  “I’m not hungry. I’ll eat later.” I open the book to read more of the story to my sweet girl.

  “I wasn’t asking,” she informs me. “I was telling you. Aris brought dinner home and he’s waiting.” She rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed that the man she’s in love with doesn’t feel the same and would rather have my company than hers.

  “Fine,” I snap. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  She turns on her heel to head back up to the house, when I call her name. “Oh, and Selene, my daughter would like her sweet potatoes pureed with only a hint of butter. The last time you made them there was enough butter in them to give a grown man a heart attack.”

  She huffs, but doesn’t argue. Damn right, bitch, know your place.

  “You ready to eat dinner, sweet girl?” I coo at my daughter, who throws her chubby little arms in the air and giggles. It’s the most beautiful, melodic sound in the world.

  After taking one last look down below, I stand and carry her into the mansion of a house. With at least ten bedrooms, and even more bathrooms, it would take a map to find your way around the entire place. But lucky for me, the only room I need to be able to find is my daughter’s, which is on the first floor attached to mine. I give her a quick bath to get the chlorine off her body and then feed her a bottle. When I’m done, I head to the dining room.

  “Nice of you to finally join me, dear.” Aris stands and makes his way over to my daughter and me.

  “I had to feed her first,” I explain. “But I’m here now.”

  “And how is my daughter?” Aris asks, taking her from me before I can stop him.

  “Zoe is perfect,” I tell him, opening the lid to her high chair, so he can set her in it. “Selene!” I call out. “I need Zoe’s dinner now!”

  Aris chuckles, but doesn’t say a word. He never does. The only reason why he keeps her around is because he knows how obsessed the woman is with him, which means she’ll do anything he asks of her.

  “And how was your day?” Aris asks after pulling my chair out for me and then sitting at the head of the table. Selene saunters into the dining room, her heels click-clacking against the marble floor. She drops Zoe’s sweet potatoes down in front of me and they spill out of the cup. They look overcooked and gross. Good thing I never planned to feed these to her.

  “Actually,” I tell her, stifling my smile, “she’s not that hungry. She just had a bottle.” I reach over and grab Zoe’s container of fruit and place some on her tray. “You can take this away.” I lift the bowl of sweet potatoes and wait for her to take them. Which she does. Because she’s the maid.

  I begin eating my chicken and realize it’s from Pomegranate, the restaurant I built from the ground up. Aris is probably hoping for a reaction, but he’s not going to get one.

  “I asked how your day was,” Aris repeats.

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?” he prompts.

  “That’s what I said.”

  Selene sits at the table across from me, on the other side of Aris. “My back hurts,” she complains. “I swear that baby accumulates so much laundry. Can we please hire someone?”

  “That’s what we have you for,” Aris snaps, and I snort out a laugh.

  “But, Aris…” she whines.

  “No buts,” he tells her, shutting down the conversation.

  After dinner is over, I grab one of the cupcakes from the pantry I made for today. Snagging a lighter and candle from the drawer, I take everything with me onto the veranda. When I go back inside to grab Zoe, Aris has her in his arms. It’s not often he holds her…

  “Can I have her, please?” I extend my arms to grab her and she shifts her body toward me. That’s my girl…

  Aris doesn’t hand her to me, but instead walks outside. “A cupcake?” he asks, even though he knows the drill.

  “She’s six months old today.” Closing my eyes so the tears that are burning my lids don’t fall, I take in a deep, cleansing breath. But when I open my eyes, a couple traitor tears fall. Aris, of course, mistakes them for me being a sentimental mother.

  “Don’t be sad, Talia. Growing up is inevitable.”

  “Can I borrow your phone to take a picture?” I ask. Aris chuckles.

  “How about you hold her and I’ll take the picture?” He hands me back Zoe.

  I light the candle and Aris snaps a picture of the two of us before I blow it out and make a wish. A wish… Every birthday when I was growing up my mom would tell me to make a wish using the candles on the cake. I used to wish for trite things like a new bike, the bracelet I wanted. For my mom to let me go to the movies with my friends. Now, though, even though they’re technically Zoe’s wishes, every time I blow out the candle for her, I make the same wish. For—

  “Talia,” Aris says, breaking me from my thought. “Selene is going into town with me tomorrow. Make sure you make a list of anything you need.”

  My eyes snap to Aris’s, but I quickly school my features, not wanting him to have any clue what I’m thinking.

  “I’ll make a list. And can you please have that picture printed for me?” I point to his phone, holding the picture of Zoe and me.

  “Of course. Anything for you.” He pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. “Anything for you.”

  Kostas

  My head throbs like a motherfucker. There was a time, when Talia disappeared, that I was clearheaded and hell-bent on finding her. I exhausted every resource I had into looking into what happened. Nothing ever came of it, though. She just fucking vanished.

  Just like Michael and Tadd.

  I remember torturing those incompetent fools because someone had to pay. It was their job to protect her. They had one fucking job and they failed. Adrian and Basil brought them in, strapped them to chairs, and handed me weapon after weapon until I drained them of every ounce of life.

  It didn’t make her reappear. She was still gone.

  Leaning back in my office chair, I ignore my phone as it buzzes. Another call from my father. It drives him insane that he’s stuck at his house in forced retirement. Aris and I visit him to share meals on occasion, but whenever he tries to talk business, we shut him down. I can thank my brother for that much—having my back against our father. Father is out of touch. It’s Aris and I who deal with the business day in and day out. In fact, now that I’ve given Aris more responsibility in the past year, we’ve thrived. Money just fucking floods in.

  Unfortunately, I don’t give a shit about money.

  I’m obsessed with finding Talia.

  For the millionth time, I wonder about Alex. The scuzzy American fucker she dated before she came to be my wife. I know everything about the asshole. His flavor of the week. His favorite restaurant. His shitty taste in music. I follow him on every social media outlet because I figure one day he’s going to slip up. One day I’ll learn he has her hidden away while they play house together, laughing at the fact I’m finally out of the picture. In those dark fantasies, I slaughter Alex and make Talia watch. Then, I fuck her back into submission. It’s easier being angry with her. At least there’s hope threaded in with my anger. Hope that she’s alive and I’ll find her one day. It’s a helluva lot better than the alternative: her being dead.

  My eyes drag from my phone over to the bottle of ouzo sitting on my desk. I practically shake with the need to drink. I’m not stupid
. I’m well aware of the fact I’m drinking myself into oblivion. And the more I drink, the further from finding her I feel. But when it’s staring me in the face, it’s hard to push it away. At least when I’m drinking, my body goes numb. The bleeding in my fucking heart stops.

  Ignoring the ouzo, I grab my phone and pull up Alex’s Instagram. He’s back in Florence with a brunette tucked under his arm. His eyes are hooded as he smiles crookedly at the camera. It boils my blood that Talia was once with this idiot. I’ve often thought about dragging him here to my hotel so I could cut off every part of his body that may have once touched her. Adrian’s eyes grew wide at my suggestion, which is the only reason I didn’t follow through. I know Adrian looks out for me and with one wild expression, I knew I was acting like a madman and not like the cunning mobster I am.

  But so help me if that fucker Alex has Talia or knows where she’s at…

  I scrub my hand down my face and begin scrolling through my contacts. I find Talia’s mother, Melody, and stare at her name. This woman used to hate me, but now we share a common goal: find Talia. Melody wears her heart on her sleeve when it comes to her daughter. If she were hiding her or knew where she was, I’d know about it. I put the phone on speaker and dial her. She answers on the first ring.

  “Kostas,” she greets, her voice tight with concern. “Any word?”

  She always answers right away, hopeful I’ve found Talia.

  “No,” I grunt out. “Any news on your end?”

  A heavy sigh escapes her. “None.”

  We share a long moment of silence, both of us brooding.

  “Emilio hasn’t heard any chatter?” I’m always hopeful with his governmental position and contacts with the police, he might hear of some organization somewhere bragging over the fact they got Kostas Demetriou’s wife.

  “Nothing,” she says. “I spoke with him today and nothing. Niles?”

  I wince at his name. “Still missing also.”

  Another long moment of silence. It’s a theory we’ve discussed before. Niles taking her and hiding her away. The motive is unclear, but it’s one that makes a lot of sense. She is his daughter and he hates our family. It could be a way to stick it to us. He’s just not smart enough or rich enough for that shit. It doesn’t add up.

  “I will be visiting Phoenix soon,” I tell her. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Don’t hurt my son.”

  I smirk. She’s like Talia in that sense. Bossing around a crime lord like it’s not a big fucking deal. But, because it reminds me of her daughter, I give her allowances I shouldn’t. “We’ll see.”

  She must not hear any threat in my words because she lets out a relieved sigh. “What about on Crete? My father said not long before she was taken, Ezio had an attempt on his life by the Galanis. Could they be behind this?”

  It irritates me she knows so much about our world, but again, she’s her daughter’s mother. I can’t fault her for being dedicated to plucking up every stone to see if it leads to her daughter. I’ll take all the help I can get at this point.

  “Most of the Galanis are gone,” I bite out. “The dickless one is still out and about, but he doesn’t have the spine to do something grand like kidnap my wife. Plus, he’d love to gloat. If he had her, he’d torment me with that fact. Since everything is silent, it tells me it’s someone new or someone who couldn’t care less about taunting me, but maybe someone with their own agendas.”

  “She’s such a beautiful woman,” her mother breathes. “What if someone kidnapped her and sold her into a sex trafficking ring? Do you know people who do that sort of thing?”

  No, but your ex-husband does.

  “I doubt that’s it.” I fucking hope that’s not it. “But to be safe, I’ll bring it up to Phoenix at our meeting. Niles admitted to allowing passage with some new clients who were into that shit.”

  She lets out a ragged breath. “Kostas, we have to find her. If she’s with sex traffickers…” A loud sob escapes her. “I worry we’ll never get the Talia we know and love back.”

  I scrub my face in frustration. “Whoever has her will fucking pay,” I growl. “I will skin them all alive.”

  My words don’t frighten her. “Good. They deserve it for taking my baby girl.”

  Voices echo down the hallway just outside my office and I sit up straight. “I need to go.”

  “Okay, cara mio, take care and let me know if you learn anything new.”

  I hang up and let her words sink in. Lately, she calls me her darling like I really am her son. And fuck if I don’t correct her because it makes me miss Mamá.

  Frustration churns in my gut. I rise from my chair and stalk outside onto the veranda. This afternoon, the air is warm and the salty sea scent evokes memories of my honeymoon. Taking Talia on the beach for the first time. The look of pure adoration on her pretty face as I made her mine. It’s times like these, when I’m sobering up, everything feels so crystal clear. I think back to that week when we located Estevan Galani in that apartment building. How he’d eyed up my wife like she was trash he wanted to burn. The fact he survived his injuries I gave him wasn’t surprising, but the fact he remains in hiding and not fucking with me is a disturbing fact. It feels important. Like I need to pursue why he isn’t fucking with me. I shot his dick off, for fuck’s sake. If someone shot my dick off, I’d try to destroy them, and would die doing it too.

  Think, Kostas.

  My mind wanders to the day she disappeared. We fought like fucking hell, but it wasn’t a relationship ending fight. Too many times I’ve allowed myself to blame it on that. That she was pissed and finally left me. She’d met up with Selene and asked for money. Another big mystery.

  I’d assumed she took the money and used it to get away.

  But what if she was being blackmailed?

  Rushing back inside, I sit at my desk and unlock my computer. When she went missing, I made sure the backups of our security footage were being stored in another place. I’ve scoured through tons of it, but often, I get frustrated sifting through hours and hours of footage that leads to nothing. The footage that never made sense was the night she supposedly took the money from Selene. I want to view it again. I pull back the footage to that night and find where we last enter the villa. Then, I skim through the night, waiting for her to leave. It eventually skips to the next day when she storms out to leave for school. I check all the cameras surrounding the villa, and nothing shows up.

  Selene claimed Talia borrowed money from her, but it didn’t happen that night.

  She never left.

  Which means either Selene confused the events or lied to me.

  Why?

  I assess Selene’s behavior over the past year. She’s obsessed with Aris. I bet she was even jealous of Talia, even though Talia was my woman and not Aris’s. Would she lie to us to make Talia seem like a bad person who left me? And why?

  She’s a catty cunt, but she’s not smart enough to pull off some grand kidnapping of my wife and keep it from me all this time. Most likely she just wanted to make Talia look bad. Regardless, I’m going to find out why the fuck Selene would lie because it doesn’t help me get to the bottom of this shit with her meddling.

  “Frown any harder and your face may stick that way,” a familiar voice booms from the doorway.

  As soon as I see my brother, I click out of the video footage and pop open Google on my browser before turning to him. “This is my face. It’s been stuck this way since I turned thirteen.”

  He snorts. “I can’t believe Dad actually gave us lessons on how to look fierce and intimidating.”

  “You failed,” I grunt out.

  “And you passed with flying colors. But seriously? What kind of father teaches their kids that?”

  I shrug and glance at the clock, before watching every tick of my brother’s face. “Want to have dinner?”

  His brown eyes flash for a second before he schools his features, not taking my bait. “Of course.”

 
“Actually,” I mutter. “I need to get ready for my trip to Thessaloniki.”

  Aris’s shoulders relax slightly. “Raincheck then. We could always go visit Dad and have dinner with him.”

  It’s sad how much he desperately tries to gain Father’s favor. Even now. Even with Father being practically an invalid and meaner than a snake. My mother’s death has killed him more than he’ll ever let on.

  “Sure,” I tell him with a shrug.

  “Anything new?” He walks over to the wet bar in my office and pulls out two tumblers. After he fills them with ice and a little water, he heads back over to my desk. I’m silent as I watch him fill them with ouzo. He pushes a glass my way and then he proceeds to sip his.

  Not touching the glass, I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair. “Nothing.”

  His lips purse together. “We’ll come up with something eventually.”

  My stare on him must unnerve him because he waves a hand at the ouzo. “Drink up, man. I have to get home to Selene soon or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Sure are pussy-whipped,” I say, picking up the glass and swirling the ice around in it.

  He snorts. “She knows her place.”

  “Where is Estevan Galani?” I ask, setting my tumbler down.

  His eyebrows hike in surprise at my question and then he gives me a one-shouldered shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. Went silent after you blew his cock off.”

  I scrub at the scruff on my face. “Galanis aren’t known for their silence. They have the biggest goddamn mouths on Crete.”

  His lips press into a thin line. A worried line. It makes me scrutinize him further. “I’ll look into it.”

  “Good,” I grunt. “So will I.”

  “Cheers to dealing with the Galani infestation,” he says, raising his glass and imploring me to drink.