Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies Duet Book 1) Page 7

  It’s as though he planned this all along.

  Predicted my moves before I made them.

  He’s a genuine nut job.

  Curious, I open the closet door to see if there’s anything of mine in there as well. It’s a huge walk-in closet. When I step inside, I notice the back wall first. It has floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with various styles of shoes. The top half are all men’s, but the bottom half are women’s. I pick one up and see it’s a size eight. My size. As if it’s burned me, I drop it back down where I got it from.

  He’s a psychopath.

  What kind of person does this?!

  Turning around, I take in the two side walls. Each are filled wall-to-wall with clothes. On one side are men’s clothes. From suits, to collared shirts, to a couple hoodies, with a few pairs of jeans hanging up at the end. On the other side are all women’s clothes. There must be thousands of euros’ worth of clothes in here. Needing to confirm they’re for me, I check out a few of the tags. All my size.

  Psycho. Creep. Stalker.

  Oh my God. I have got to get away from this man.

  Backing up slightly, I bump into a dresser island in the middle of the room—yes, his closet is the size of a freaking room. It has several drawers, and on the end there’s a bench where you can sit to put on your shoes.

  With a deep breath, I try to steady my nerves and calm myself. I grab an off the shoulder sweater and a pair of shorts and quickly change into them, needing to get out of here. Out of this closet. Out of this room. Out of this fucking house.

  Since I have some time before dinner, I leave the villa, desperate for fresh air and to clear my head, but as the door closes behind me, I realize I don’t have a key. “Shit!” I try to turn the handle, but it’s locked. Unlike the room I stayed in last night, Kostas’s door has a number pad on it, and I don’t know the code. Nor do I know his phone number. “Just great.” I groan.

  “Locked out?” a masculine voice asks. Unlike Kostas’s dark, cold tone, this voice is melodic and playful. Aris. I turn around and find him leaning against the wall, in a pair of board shorts and boat shoes, with his leg propped up, and his arms crossed over his shirtless chest.

  “Do you know the code?” I ask, nodding toward the offending panel.

  Aris laughs, light and throaty. I haven’t heard Kostas laugh yet, but I imagine it would sound the complete opposite. I don’t really know either of them, but from what I’ve seen, they seem to be polar opposites.

  “It’s not funny,” I snap. “Your brother told me to be ready at five thirty. The last thing I need is him…punishing me.” I mumble the last two words.

  “Ahh…” Aris grins. “So, you’ve already had a chance to get to know my brother.”

  “If you call watching him torture a man with his own limb that he cut off using a knife, getting to know him, then sure, I know him real well,” I smart. My words come out harsh and sarcastic, but my voice cracks at the end, giving away how overwhelmed and scared I am.

  Aris steps off the wall and stalks toward me. “Come here.” His voice, so sweet and soft, is my breaking point. A single tear squeezes past my flimsy barrier and rolls down my cheek. Aris, not missing a beat, swipes his thumb across my flesh and catches it. And then another falls, and another. And the next thing I know, I’m in Aris’s arms, crying onto his shoulder.

  “Shh,” he coos. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  I don’t know how, but without even asking him, I know Aris is nothing like his brother. They both might work for their father, but Aris isn’t stone cold like Kostas. He’s different. Softer.

  “How can you say that?” I murmur. “I’m being forced to marry a man who made me watch him take another man’s life to show me what he’s capable of. How can anything ever be all right?”

  It can’t.

  It won’t.

  “What can I do?” he asks, but before I can answer, someone else answers for me.

  “You can get your fucking hands off my fiancée for starters.”

  Kostas

  Aris meets my glare over Talia’s blond head with a maddening smirk that used to get his ass beat when we were kids. I swear he lives to taunt me. Wisely, he drops his arms.

  Talia jerks away from him and crosses her arms over her chest. My gaze flits to her smooth, sexy shoulder that’s exposed. Golden like honey. I bet it tastes sweet too.

  “I don’t know the code to get back in,” she mutters, not meeting my gaze.

  “You were supposed to stay put,” I say, stepping closer.

  “What is the code?” Aris implores just to fuck with me. He sure as hell isn’t welcome in my villa.

  Shaking my head at him, I bite out my words. “Don’t you have some errands to run for Daddy?”

  All humor is wiped off his fucking face. If anyone has daddy issues, it’s my brother. It boils his blood that he’s a glorified errand boy and I’m the heir to the Demetriou kingdom. Instead of losing his cool like I wish he would, he straightens his spine and shoots me a nasty glare.

  “Excuse me, Talia,” he mutters. “I have work to do. See you at dinner.”

  As soon as he’s gone, she frowns at me. “He’ll be at dinner with us?”

  I walk over to her and grip her wrist. She smells like lavender, a pleasing scent that simmers some of my rage at seeing Aris swooping in on her like a fucking hawk. “It’s a family dinner,” I explain, studying her plump lips. “My father and mother will be there as well.”

  Her blue eyes widen. “I’m going to meet your mother?”

  “You’re my fiancée,” I remind her with a smirk. “Of course you’ll meet her. She’s been told about you and will be helping to plan our wedding.” My voice drops to a low octave as I reach up to brush a blond strand of hair from her eyes. “You’ll respect my mother, yes?”

  The unspoken threat lingers in the air between us.

  Ignoring my words, she narrows her eyes at me and huffs out, “You’re sure taking this marriage debt seriously.”

  Sliding my hand to her throat, I gently caress her soft skin. My thumb lingers on her fat vein that throbs wildly. I make her nervous. Good. “I’m a successful businessman. I take all business seriously,” I utter, my eyes locked with her flaring blue ones. “And, like my father, I take marriage even more seriously.”

  She swallows and her throat moves against my palm. This woman is so delicate. A butterfly caught in a spider’s web—her wings about to be tied down indefinitely.

  “Come now, moró mou. We have important matters to see to.”

  I release her neck but not her wrist. She hesitates for a fraction of a second when I pull her with me, but I’m stronger and she’s forced to follow along. Soon, she falls into step beside me and I release my grip on her. We walk down the stone pathway between other private villas until we come to the side entrance of the hotel. Her curiosity and apparent appreciation of our hotel gets the better of her once we step inside. When we pass a painting I had flown in from Portugal recently, I sense her hesitation. She wants to look at it but is afraid to ask.

  If she is to be my wife, she’ll have to tap into that bravery sooner rather than later.

  Animals can sense fear. They thirst for it. Can scent it in the air. Hunt it down. Humans are no different. She wants to be hunted? I’ll fucking hunt her.

  “This way, mikró kounéli.” Little rabbit.

  She shoots me a venomous glare—one that’s better suited for a reptile that eats little rabbits. Her sudden flare of animosity has heat coursing through me straight to my dick. I let out a dark chuckle before guiding her to my office where Faustus and his team await.

  Once inside my office, she stumbles slightly. I place my palm on the small of her back to steady her. Faustus—a world-renowned jeweler from Athens—has set up my office with his best pieces. Several men stand in corners, their black suits and impassive features meant to blend in. In reality, they’re there to keep anyone from robbing Faustus blind of his precious treasures.
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br />   “Faustus,” I greet, reaching to shake hands with the short, white-haired man.

  “Mr. Demetriou.” He shakes my hand and then offers his to Talia. She’s been brought up to be a lady, apparently, because she smiles and takes his hand. “Lovely woman.”

  “Thank you,” she utters. “What’s all this?” She shoots me a questioning look.

  “This,” Faustus answers for me, “is the finest gold, platinum, silver, and stones in the entire world.” He grins wide at her, his white mustache stretching across his face. “Only the finest for a Demetriou.”

  I can tell it’s on the tip of her tongue to argue that she’s still a Nikolaides, but she wisely keeps her mouth shut.

  “Come,” Faustus tells her. “Sit.”

  I sit in my desk chair while he sits in the chair next to her, opposite my desk. Faustus pulls one of the jewel-covered black trays over to her lap. As he explains the quality of each piece, I study my fiancée. Her brows are furled and her nostrils flare. She’d love to be anywhere but here, no doubt, but that’s too fucking bad. After seeing Aris with his arms wrapped around her, I’d nearly exploded with fury. She needs a heavy, priceless ring on her finger so the whole fucking world knows who she belongs to.

  Touching my woman will have consequences.

  Aris knows this and yet he tests my patience.

  Because he’s my brother, he’s allowed a small sliver of leniency. But my graciousness toward my flesh and blood has been eliminated. I won’t cut him with words next time. No, I’ll cut him with something much sharper.

  “You prefer pink?” Faustus asks her, offering her a rather large pink diamond to inspect.

  Her face sours and she shakes her head. “These are all too big.”

  Faustus snorts. “Nonsense. No diamond is too big for a beautiful woman.”

  “Pick the one you like,” I instruct. “You’re not leaving here until you do. Choose wisely.”

  She rolls her eyes, making her seem younger and less overwhelmed. That, too, gets my dick hard. I smirk as she takes the pink diamond. I can tell she doesn’t like it.

  “No pink,” I tell Faustus. “Perhaps something to match her eyes.”

  I nod to the small tray that’s covered by a black cloth. Jewelers like him are all the same. They tease and tease until they get to the truly priceless gems. I don’t have all day. I want a ring on her finger by the time we leave this room. Preferably the most valuable one.

  Faustus, clearly peeved that I’ve cut short his show, frowns at me before reaching for the tray. He swaps out the one on her lap for the new one.

  “This is as rare as they come,” he explains, his voice turning to a whisper as he foreshadows what must be the best diamond here. “Priceless.”

  He pulls away the cloth to reveal a square light blue diamond already set in a platinum band. It sparkles from the sun streaming in the window, nearly blinding me. This will do. This will do nicely. Her eyes have locked onto the ring and she can’t hide her appreciation for it. The blues in her eyes sparkle exactly like that of the diamond.

  “This is a 24.18 carat emerald-cut vivid blue diamond called the Aster Blue. It comes from a South African mine and is the largest of five gems cut from a 122.52 carat rough blue diamond unearthed in 2001.” He smiles at her. “Blue diamonds are among the rarest this world has ever seen. This diamond even rarer due to the size and cut. The jeweler who first owned it selfishly kept it for his wife, but eventually sold it in an auction seven years ago.”

  She looks up at Faustus. “Why did he sell it?”

  Faustus’s smile falters and he shoots me a panicked look. I, too, am curious about how a man would give his wife a priceless stone and then sell it.

  “Is it important? Look at the way it catches the light,” Faustus tells her.

  Her head bows to inspect it, but irritation churns in my gut at his blatant refusal to answer her question. All it takes is for me to lean forward in my chair, my gaze burning into him, for him to give up the goods.

  “He sold it because his wife left him. Ran away with his brother.” He cringes, shooting me an apologetic look. “She left the ring and a note. His broken heart could only be soothed by the hefty amount the diamond brought in.”

  “Do you ever plan to leave me, moró mou?” I taunt, my voice dropping to a deadly low level.

  Her blue eyes snap to mine, fear gleaming in them. With one hard stare, I challenge her to lie to me. We both know this morning, she’d done just that.

  “I would like to try it on,” she says, ignoring my question and holding out her dainty hand to Faustus.

  Beads of perspiration dot his forehead as he eagerly takes her hand, clearly desperate to change the line of conversation. He slides the massive light blue diamond on her slender finger. Possessiveness claws its way around my heart at seeing it on her hand. She’d be a fool to not choose it. It’s perfect on her.

  “How much is it?” she asks, her nose scrunching as she regards him.

  “Priceless.” He grins at her, before glancing my way. “Nothing a Demetriou can’t afford.”

  “I guess I’ll take this one then,” she says in a breathy voice.

  “You guess?” Faustus chokes out. “My lovely lady, this blue diamond is worth fifty-seven point seven million euros.”

  Talia jerks her hand back, snapping her gaze my way, horror in her blue eyes. “That’s insane!”

  “It is the one,” I tell Faustus blandly as I pick up my desk phone and dial Aris’s secretary, Carlene. When she answers, I bark out my request for her to wire the money to Faustus. By the time I hang up, Faustus is beaming and Talia looks as though she swallowed something poisonous. “I thank you for your time, Faustus.” With a nod, I dismiss them.

  Talia remains still, the shiny diamond ring sparkling, as the men pack up the jewelry. They work quickly and quietly. After a brief handshake with Faustus, I rise and see them to the door.

  “Talia, come,” I bark out.

  She jolts at my words and stands. Crimson paints her neck red, making me wonder what it is she’s embarrassed about.

  “Bring me the ring,” I order, holding out my palm.

  Her nostrils flare, but she obeys, stalking over to me. She plucks the ring from her finger and hands it over. Once it’s safely encased in my fist, I grip her wrist and walk her out to my veranda.

  “Talia Nikolaides,” I say, pulling her hand up and kissing her knuckle. “You are to be my wife.” I’m not asking for her hand in marriage, I’m taking it. I slide on the impressive ring, enjoying the way it shimmers in the sun. “And if you leave me like the poor man who first owned this ring, I will extract all fifty-seven point seven million from you. Blood, sweat, tears. However I can get my payment.” I thread our fingers together. Her eyes flare with worry. “You know this, yes?”

  “Yes,” she breathes, her bottom lip wobbling wildly.

  “Good.” I kiss the back of her hand. “Four. Seven. Seven. One. That’s the code to our villa. Don’t share it with anyone.”

  She nods emphatically. “Of course not.”

  I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Run along and get ready for dinner. Dress nicely.”

  As soon as she plucks her hand from my grip, she hightails it out of my presence. I’m staring out at the bay when a little while later someone approaches me from behind. Familiar fingernails scratch down my spine, making me smile.

  “Look how handsome you are.”

  I turn to take in a pair of brown eyes that shine with love for me. Her face is youthful despite her age. Red-painted lips curl into a smile.

  Pulling her into my arms, I hug her tight and inhale her hair that smells of oranges.

  “Is it true?” she asks, pulling away to search my face, tears shining in her eyes. “You’ve found someone?”

  I found her at the bottom of a Nikolaides hole. Like the priceless diamond, I unearthed her and made her mine. Unlike the jeweler, I’ll make sure she wears that ring until her very last breath.

  “It
is,” I grunt. Guilt niggles at me when her brown eyes flood and then spill over with her emotion.

  “Oh, Kos,” she chokes out. “Is it love?”

  “It’s something.” I smile at her. “You look beautiful. Did you come alone?”

  Her face pinches. “No, he’s here, too.” Worry flickers in her eyes. “Are you happy?”

  I’m as happy as a man like me can get.

  “Of course, Mamá.”

  I’m marrying the most beautiful woman in Greece and she’s the daughter of an enemy. Of course I’m fucking happy.

  The woman who raised us to be kind, honorable men hugs me once more.

  Sometimes I almost feel sorry for her. Because for every good thing she taught us, my father taught us three more bad ones.

  I’m not a good man.

  Good men don’t turn good women into Demetrious.

  Only bad men do.

  Mamá, of all women, should know that.

  Talia

  “Hēdonē?” My eyes flicker from the seductively lit sign above the restaurant we’re about to enter, to Kostas.

  His expression is cold and emotionless, but I’m learning his eyes don’t lie. The hazel seems to flicker with amusement. I imagine he’s thinking the same thing I am. Another goddess. Another story. He arches a brow as though to say, “And your point?”

  “Your restaurant is seriously named after the Goddess of Pleasure?” It’d be romantic coming from anyone but the man who is taking me as his wife in exchange for a debt. Speaking of which…

  Don’t look at it.

  Don’t look at it.

  I have no choice. I sneak a peek at the massive diamond on my finger. It’s heavy and sparkling. It’s a beautiful ring, but it’s ridiculous and over the top, especially for a marriage that’s not even real.

  This is forced imprisonment, where he’s the warden and I’m in unseen shackles with the walls around me rising higher by the minute.

  I’ll never get away from him.

  Kostas doesn’t give me a response, just tugs on my arm to keep me moving. We’re halted by a familiar voice.