My life was brutal, horrific, ruthless.
Dark.
Until a beautiful bride was dragged into my life.
I took her as my prize and made her mine.
Vengeance never tasted so sweet.
I see her truths every day, and it’s hard not to fall for a woman who makes me weak.
She can try to run, but I have no intention of ever letting her go.
I wanted to marry for hate, but it looks like hate is a lie.
To the brave readers who are back for more. We promise not to put too much strain on your heart.
Kostas
One Year Later
Lies.
All fucking lies.
Both of the assholes lie straight to my face. I’ll kill them both. An evil laugh erupts from me, making them both wince in exactly the same way at exactly the same time.
“Is that your final answer?” I ask, grinning.
“Y-Yes,” the fuckface says. “M-My final answer.”
The room spins and I close my eyes. Blood. Sweat. Piss. The scents emanating from this cellar have my bile rising. Fuck, I’m going to puke.
I slice through the air and miss them both. Irritated, I stomp over to the table and grab my bottle of tequila. Adrian clears his throat as I guzzle down the liquid, but I ignore him. The burn races down my esophagus and then hums through my veins.
“I hate liars,” I mumble and take another swig. “You’re a liar.”
The man—some Galani idiot cousin whose name doesn’t even matter to me—whimpers. “Please,” he begs. “Please don’t kill me. I told you everything.”
Ignoring his pleading, I swipe the air again. This time I get them both right across the chest. This makes me laugh. His cries of pain are fucking entertaining.
“Sir,” Adrian says.
Swiveling around, the room spins, and I stumble at the movement. When everything slows to a stop, I find two Adrians too. Both scowling at me. What the fuck is his problem?
“Got something to say?” I demand, my voice a husky slur.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Just fucking hungry.”
What time is it?
What fucking day is it?
Fury burns through my chest hotter than the tequila. These days, I’m losing sight of myself. My purpose. Everything.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Pouty as fuck lips.
Pain chases away the anger and the ache inside my chest threatens to rip me in two. I grit my teeth so I don’t do something stupid like throw myself onto the floor kicking and screaming like a goddamn toddler.
She’s gone.
Been gone for a motherfucking year.
All leads are dead ends.
Even this slimy asshole tonight was a dead end. He knows nothing. Nothing of value. I’ve sliced enough of his skin that if he knew the answer, he would’ve given it up already. But he hasn’t because he doesn’t know shit.
Where are you, Talia?
Someone took her. I can feel it in my bones. But all the usual suspects are quiet and in hiding. Everything feels so normal. As if I imagined my wife—imagined holding her luscious curves and driving into her tight heat. Sometimes I wonder if I did. Was it all a fucked-up dream? Am I in some unknown level of hell?
I swing out again, missing the Galani roach and his double. Squinting, they become one. Ugly motherfucker. Him and his blurred phantom twin.
Everything turns black for a moment and I stumble. I’m just blinking away the confusion when Adrian forcefully grabs my knife.
“Let me finish up here, Boss.” He pins me with a hard glare. Why the fuck does he have four eyes?
“What’d I miss?” Aris asks, clomping down the stairs. “Yuck. A fucking mess is what.”
“Kostas was just heading up to grab some coffee and a bite to eat,” Adrian says. “You came just in time.”
Aris rakes his gaze down my form and his lips purse together in disappointment. Same fucking way Mamá’s did. My heart fucking hurts. His stare softens as he grabs my arm and hooks it over his shoulders.
“Come on, bro,” Aris mutters. “Let’s get you back home.”
My home is empty and cold. I hate it.
“Wanna swim?” I slur, leaning heavily into him.
He chuckles. “And watch your ass drown? Maybe later.”
“Let me guess,” I grumble. “You gotta get home to your wife.”
A snort escapes him. “Selene is not my wife.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” he concedes. “But she sure as fuck acts like one, always bitching if I don’t get home at a decent hour.”
I laugh. “At least you get laid.”
“If I get home in time,” he jokes.
We stumble up the stairs and he helps me into his Porsche. The drive back to my villa makes me nauseous. I’m about to puke when the car finally comes to a stop. He helps me out of the car and into my villa. I groan when I scent lemons. The maid’s been by, which means she had to clean up after my latest rage. Everything has been replaced and put back together again. I fist my hands, eager to destroy it once more.
“Dude,” Aris groans. “You have got to quit trashing your villa. Do you know how much money we’ve spent on fixing this room? I thought we were past this.”
I’ll never be past this.
Talia.
Just fucking gone.
“She’s dead,” I tell him, my words choking my throat.
He sighs. “You don’t know that.”
“She is.”
With a grunt, he drops me onto my sofa. I fade in and out of consciousness as I hear the microwave beeping. Something savory makes my stomach grumble. Aris sets down a plate of microwaved pizza on the coffee table.
“Eat, man. You’re wasting away.”
I shrug. “I’m not hungry.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and levels me with a serious glare. I roll my eyes as I take a bite of the pizza. My, how our roles have reversed. I think Aris secretly likes taking care of me as I wallow in my fucking misery. I’d say he gets off on it, but his concerned eyes that are exactly like Mamá’s don’t lie. And because of that, I eat the damn pizza.
“I really do need to bail,” he mutters. “I hate leaving you like this, but Selene can be such a bitch.”
“Married life,” I say with a grunt.
“Not yet.” He laughs. “Hell, maybe not ever.”
“You bought a fucking house for her.” I scratch at my jaw. “Am I an embarrassment?”
“Truly, you are,” he taunts, his brown eyes lighting up with playfulness.
“Fuck off. You never have me over.”
“You’ve been preoccupied. You think I want to rub in your face the fact I’m happy with Selene and thinking about popping the question while you’re dying over here in despair? Hell no. I may think you’re a dick, but I’m not going to do that shit to you.”
I chew the pizza and frown before swallowing it. “Don’t tell me you let her decorate.”
He winces. “The kitchen is seashell themed.”
“Jesus,” I say with a laugh. “Mamá would be rolling over in her grave.”
We both sober up momentarily.
“I miss her,” Aris rumbles. “I miss her so fucking much.”