23

Cara
I stand behind the counter in the Demetrios Diner and wipe down a mug. I’m in a pair of tights and Phel’s extra uniform. It’s scratchy and a little too big, but I don’t care about anything right now.
I just want to be busy.
Eros didn’t want to let me go, but I didn’t ask his permission. I stormed out of that house, ignoring him when he told me to stop, and approached one of the maids I recognized from the day before. I ordered her to find me a car and a driver, and she stared in terror until Eros told her to obey my demands.
“We will speak about this later,” he said as I slammed the car door and his driver pulled out.
Now I’m just trying to get myself together. I know they were only shoes-but they’re also so much more than shoes.
I lost everything. My life was ruined the moment I ran out on Christopher, and I did it anyway, because I knew that staying would be even worse.
But now I have no family, no life, no friends, nothing.
Those shoes were all I kept.
Now they’re gone.
“You seem distracted.” Phel leans up against the counter next to me. The diner’s slow after the morning rush, but before the lunch crowd gets going. She gives me a knowing grin. “Tough night?”
“Something like that,” I say quietly.
Her smile fades. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No,” I say and put down the mug. “It’s not like that. Things are just complicated, that’s all.”
She sighs and leans her head back. “God, I wish my life could be complicated. Especially if that involved sleeping over at the Khazan mansion.”
“Let’s trade then.”
She laughs. “Gladly. Want to talk about it?”
I hesitate, considering, but shake my head. I’m angry with Eros, but I’m not stupid enough to gossip about his private business with anyone else, not yet at least. I like Phel a lot, and I’m starting to trust her, but I don’t want to risk screwing my life up even worse.
Instead, I tell her interesting but unimportant things about the house, about the art and the staircase and the fountain with the actual fish swimming around, about the bedroom and the balcony and the view of the lake. She listens and sighs and laughs and makes all the appropriate noises until I’m finished.
“That must be absolutely insane,” she says and pours me a coffee without asking. I accept it gratefully.
“Aren’t I supposed to pay for this?”
“Nah,” she says and gestures at the tables. “There are like eight made guys in here right now ordering way too much food. Dad would let you stand on a table and scream the Declaration of Independence if you wanted.”
I laugh and notice she’s right, the rare bunch of big, scary-looking Greek guys hanging around.
No doubt thanks to Eros.
“I just don’t want to be a burden on you and your family, is all.”
Phel rolls her eyes. “Man, you’ve got some guilt in you. But chill, it’s totally fine. Dad’s loving this.”
I study Ophelia for a long moment and sip my coffee. She’s young and pretty and funny and smart, and I bet from her perspective, she’s stuck working in this lame diner with her family.
But from where I’m standing, she’s luckier than anyone in the world.
She has a mother and a father that love her. She has a job that provides value to the world. She has independence, and a life, and she doesn’t have to be terrified that everything will be ripped away from her by violent men every time she wakes up in the morning.
She’s free in a way I’m beginning to think I never will be.
While I woke up in a mansion this morning, she woke up in heaven.
The day passes like that. The Greek guys come and go, but there’s always at least half a dozen of them. Demetrios keeps asking me if he can get me anything like I’m a customer or something, and I keep assuring him that I’m fine. I can tell he’s beginning to look at me differently-like I’m already the wife of his Greek crime lord.
It’s exactly what I don’t want to happen.
“He’ll get over it eventually,” Phel says after the tenth time her dad tries to get me water or offers me something to eat. “Eventually. Probably.”
I roll my eyes and we share a laugh.
But around five that day, as the dinner rush gets started, Eros shows up with his friend in tow, a man I’ve seen him with many times over the last couple weeks. He’s tall, wears a slim suit with no tie, a flashy watch, and his dark hair pushed back. Handsome in a different way, but not really my type. Eros approaches and leans against the counter.
“We need to speak,” he says.
“Maybe when I’m done my shift.” I pointedly keep making a fresh pot of coffee.
“You can go whenever you want!” Demetrios calls out. “Mr. Khazan, do not worry, we treat Cara like family here. She is free to do as she pleases!”
Eros nods to Demetrios and I’m pretty sure the old Greek man starts blushing like a schoolgirl. It’d be cute if I weren’t so annoyed with him.
“This is important.” Eros moves closer, voice pitched lower. “I won’t ask again.”
His bodyguard or friend or whatever he is looks at his watch. “We have that meeting in an hour,” he says.
“Thank you, Lycus. I understand.” Eros’s gaze doesn’t stray from mine.
“It’s going to get busy in here soon,” I say. “I don’t want to leave them shorthanded.”
“I will wait tables!” Demetrios calls out. “I will wear the uniform, no worries, I still have wonderful calves! Ha-ha!”
Eros’s jaw works. “Cara.”
“Fine,” I snap and take off my apron. “But if this is some bullshit-” I stop myself from going off when I become aware of every eye in the place staring at me. All his men, his associates and soldiers, looking at me with surprise, shock, some of them even with loathing.
They’d never talk to their lord that way.
A bunch of asshole cowards.
But maybe it’d be a good idea to bite my tongue for once, just in case.
Eros simply nods. “Good. We’re leaving now.” He turns away and glares toward a table of his men. “Order more food, you lazy fucks. I’ll be back.”
They salute him respectfully and Eros walks out.
His friend Lycus remains behind, studying me, head tilted to the side. He smiles slightly as I come around the counter.
“You know, I’ve seen him kill men for talking to him like that.”
“Is that supposed to impress me? It only makes me think he’s a psycho. And a murderer.”
Lycus laughs. “Eros’s a lot of things, and proud is at the top of the list. I’m just saying, tread lightly and you might get what you want.”
“And what do you know about what I want?” I stare at him flatly.
He shrugs and walks to the door. “Not a thing, I guess. Come on, let’s not keep the boss waiting.”
I follow him, grinding my jaw in frustration.