19

Cara
I’m almost too angry to notice the lavish interior.
But not quite.
The entryway has an enormous crystal chandelier dangling over a twin staircase with massive marble statues of Greek gods and goddesses frolicking around a central fountain. Actual fish swim inside the water, which seems almost absurd. The floor’s marble, with more marble columns, and a ton of intricate tile work along the ground and walls. Doorways and hallways lead off into different parts of the house, but Eros heads right for the stairs and takes me to the second floor.
We walk past a couple maids dusting and straightening. Each one smiles and greets Eros by bowing their heads respectfully, and he grunts a hello in reply. None of them flinch away or avert their eyes, and they both stare at me curiously. I take that as a good sign-at least his staff isn’t terrified of him, even if they act a little overly formal.
The whole place is like a museum. I’ve never seen so much luxury in one building before. I grew up in a typical Philly row home, and I lived in a house not much nicer with Christopher, but this is on an entirely different level. This is generational wealth, like there’s money and power baked into the oil paintings, into the beautiful carpets, into the perfectly painted walls. It smells faintly like lemon cleaner and musty, stale air, but each new twist and turn reveals a new marvel.
We end at the far side of the building down a quiet, abandoned-looking wing. Eros opens a door and steps into a room, and I follow him, my mouth falling open.
It’s like a five-star hotel. Couches and chairs, a fireplace, a massive TV, a stocked bar, and at the far side, French doors opening out onto a balcony overlooking the lake. Sunlight glitters off the water and my jaw somehow finds a new lower level as Eros goes straight for the liquor. He pours himself a whiskey and studies me as I stand there gaping.
“This is my room,” he says, gesturing around us. “The private quarters of the don. My father held this room, and my uncle, and a dozen other Khazan men stretching back generations.”
“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” I blurt the words out before I can think to stop myself and quickly make a face. “Sorry, I meant, it’s a lot for just one guy, that’s all, I’m just feeling a little-”
He holds up a hand and I gratefully shut my mouth. “I understand. And you’re not wrong, it’s a bit much, but in my world, image is everything.” His smile is tight and tired. He walks to the doors and steps outside, and I follow him. I lean against the doorframe, unwilling to commit myself to stepping onto the concrete, while he leans against the railing and stares out at the water.
“Eros,” I say and his shoulders hunch, the only indication that he’s listening. “I know you’re going out on a limb for me, and you’ve given me a lot these last couple of weeks, and I want you to know how grateful I am for all of it. But why do we have to get married? Why can’t we just, I don’t know-” I gesture in the air. “Pretend to be dating?”
The question hangs in the air. I try not to let my surroundings intimidate me, but this is way bigger than I ever imagined. This is the sort of money and power I only ever read about in books or saw on TV, but never really believed existed. How could anyone live like this, when I know so many people struggling to make ends meet?
Christopher made decent money. We were comfortable-not rich, but I didn’t have to think about the bills. I thought that was the good life, but this place makes my house with my ex-husband look like a shack.
It’s hard to wrap my brain around everything, and I’m struggling to stay grounded.
Only a few hours ago, I thought Eros was a businessman. A rich, powerful, well-connected businessman, but still-not the sort of person that lives in a massive, sprawling, ancient house on lakefront property that must be worth millions.
So much changed so fast, and I’m trying hard to keep up with it all, but it’s like he’s dragging me along kicking and screaming and I’m not getting a chance to catch my breath.
“I have enemies,” he says as last, his words almost lost in the breeze. I take a step toward him and wrap my arms around myself.
“Well, that’s pretty fucking obvious,” I say and catch myself before I can go off more.
He laughs and shakes his head. “That mouth of yours,” he says and looks back at me. “Absolutely filthy.”
I glare at him. “Don’t start.”
He leans back against the railing and sips his whiskey with a sigh. “I have enemies everywhere, Cara. Not only out in the city, but in this house as well.”
“Right, and I’m supposed to be safe here?”
“Safer than out there.” He tilts his head sideways. “My enemies at home are different. When word about you spreads, and it’s going to spread fast now that you’re here, I will have to explain myself. If I tell my family that I stole an Italian Capo’s wife for no reason other than I find the taste of her delicious-”
“You better fucking not say that,” I say, mortified.
“They’d have my head.” He smirks and I want to slap that look off his face. “Which means you need to be more than a mistress. You have to be something serious, something worth the fight. You have to be my wife. That’s the only way you can stay here until we can solve the problem of your ex-husband.”
“So what, we just tell everyone we’re married? I can sleep in one of these rooms, I’m sure you have like fifty spares, and we’ll play the game?”
He shakes his head slowly. “That won’t work.”
“Why not?” Frustration bubbles up in my chest. “Why do you have to make this harder than it needs to be?”
“Because my enemies are here, in my house, in my family. If anyone realizes what we’re doing is fake, all of this crumbles to the ground. Not only do we have to get married, but we have to play the part. If you think they won’t start digging into everything about us-” He comes toward me, walking slowly, eyes burning into mine with bottomless passion. “Which means you stay in my room. You sleep in my bed. You kiss me in the morning and act like you like it. You moan when I grab your ass-”
“You’re not grabbing anything,” I say, blinking at him rapidly, the truth of my situation becoming extremely clear.
“We’re making this as real as we can, asteraki mu. There will be paperwork. There might be a small ceremony. You are not a good enough actress to do it for pretend.”
“But I’m not divorced from Christopher.”
I wave a that away. “I have a friend name Gareth. He’ll take care of the legalities.”
“This is insane.” I turn away from him and stomp inside. He follows at a distance. “I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you. I don’t even like you.”
“You like it when my mouth is between your legs. What else do you need?”
“Don’t be an asshole.” I turn on him, anger flaring again. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I ran from one abusive relationship only to end up in the mansion of some rich Greek gangster and I’m supposed to suck it up and marry you? And oh, yeah, you have all these enemies, and I have to be your wife or my fucking ex-husband is going to hunt me down, because you punched him in the face and told him I’m yours, which I did not agree to, and-”
“Cara,” he says, coming toward me.
I click my teeth closed, breathing hard, hands clenched. I feel dizzy, overwhelmed, and it occurs to me dimly that I’m freaking out as the weight of my situation falls down on my shoulders like anvils.
I stagger away from him, over toward the couches, and manage to catch myself on the arm of a chair before I collapse.
He’s at my side in an instant, sitting me down, murmuring calming words in Greek. I have no clue what he’s saying, and I don’t want him to touch me, but sweat breaks out across my body and my heart’s hammering so hard I can hear it trying to break out through my ears, and oh my god, I’m trapped in this place with a man I barely know, and I don’t know how I’m going to get away.
“Cara,” he says softly, kneeling by my side. “Asteraki mu, it’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay. We will marry, but it doesn’t have to be forever. You’re safe here.”
“That’s the problem,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I don’t want to be trapped here.”
He strokes my cheek gently. “You have no other choice.” Which is not exactly the best thing to say, but he stands and moves away. “Take your time and gather your thoughts. I have some calls to make.”
“Where are you going?”
“Into my office. It’s only across the hall.”
“And what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay put. Do not leave this room. Nobody will bother you so long as you’re in here, but if you step outside-” He shakes his head. “For now, please stay here. Once we have everything straightened out, the grounds will be yours to explore as you see fit, and I will assign a guard and a car to take you anywhere you need to go. Only please, follow my instructions until then.”
“Great, so not only am I trapped in this place, but it’s like shark-infested water if I go out that door.” I lean forward, face in my hands. “How did I end up here?”
“You ran into the wrong man at the right time.” The door opens and he pauses before leaving. “Soon, you will be my wife, and then everything will be okay.”
And the door closes, leaving me alone.