The Secret Beneath The Veil. Dani Collins
pointed, affecting their removal as casual news. “Several bones broken, but it works well enough after several surgeries. I’m naturally left-handed so that was a nuisance, but I’m quite capable with both now, so...”
“Silver lining?” she huffed, voice strained with disbelief. “How did you get away?”
“They weren’t getting anywhere with questioning me and hit upon the idea of asking my grandfather to pay a ransom. He had no knowledge of a grandson, though. He was slow to act. He was grieving. Not pleased to have some pile of dung attempting to benefit off his son’s name. I had no proof of my claim. My mother was one of many for my father. That was why she left him.”
He shrugged. Female companionship had never been a problem for any of the Petrides men. They were good-looking and powerful and money was seductive. Women found them.
“Pappoús could have done many things, not least of which was let them finish killing me. He asked for blood tests before he paid the ransom. When I proved to be his son’s bastard, he made me his heir. I suddenly had a clean, dry bed, ample food.” He nodded at the beautiful concoction before them: a shallow chowder of corn and buttermilk topped with fat, pink prawns and chopped herbs. “I had anything I wanted. A motorcycle in summer, ski trips in winter. Clothes that were tailored to fit my body in any style or color I asked. Gadgets. A yacht. Anything.”
He’d also received a disparate education, tutored by his grandfather’s accountant in finance. His real estate and investment licenses were more purchased than earned, but he had eventually mastered the skills to benefit from such transactions. Along the way he had developed a talent for managing people, learning by observing his grandfather’s methods. Nowadays they had fully qualified, authentically trained staff to handle every matter. Arm-twisting, even the emotional kind he was utilizing right now, was a retired tactic.
But it was useful in this instance. Viveka needed to understand the bigger picture.
Like his grandfather, he needed a test.
“In return for his generosity, I have dedicated myself to ensuring my grandfather’s empire operates on the right side of the law. We’re mostly there. This merger is a final step. I have committed to making it happen before his health fails him. You can see why I feel I owe him this.”
“Why are you being so frank with me?” Her brow crinkled. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll repeat any of this?”
“No.” Much of it was online, if only as legend and conjecture. While Mikolas had pulled many dodgy stunts like mergers that resembled money laundering, he’d never committed actual crimes.
That wasn’t why he was so confident, however.
He held her gaze and waited, watching comprehension solidify as she read his expression. She would not betray him, he telegraphed. Ever.
Her lashes quivered and he watched her swallow.
Fear was beginning to take hold in her. He told himself that was good and ignored the churn of self-contempt in his belly. He wasn’t like the men who had tormented him.
But he wasn’t that different. Not when he casually picked up his wineglass and mentioned, “I should tell you. Grigor is looking for your sister. You could save yourself by telling him where to find her.”
“No!” The word was torn out of her, the look on her face deeply anxious, but not conflicted. “Maybe he never hit her before, but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t start now. And this?” She waved at the table and yacht. “She had these trappings all her life and would have given up all of it for a kind word. At least I had memories of our mother. She didn’t even have me, thanks to him. So no. I would rather go back to Grigor than sell her out to him.”
She spoke with brave vehemence, but her eyes grew wet. It wasn’t bravado. It was loyalty that would cost her, but she was willing to pay the price.
“I believe you,” he pressed with quiet lack of mercy. “That Grigor would resort to violence. The way he spoke when I returned his call—” Mikolas considered himself immune to rabid foaming at the mouth. He knew firsthand how depraved a man could act, but the bloodlust in Grigor’s voice had been disturbing. Familiar in a grim, dark way.
And educational. Grigor wasn’t upset that his daughter was missing. He was upset the merger had been delayed. He was taking Viveka’s involvement very personally and despite all his posturing and hard-nosed negotiating in the lead-up, he was revealing impatience for the merger to complete.
That told Mikolas his very thorough research prior to starting down this road with Grigor may have missed something. It wasn’t a complete surprise that Grigor had kept something up his sleeve. Mikolas had chosen Grigor because he hadn’t been fastidious about partnering with the Petrides name. Perhaps Grigor had thought the sacrifice to his reputation meant he could withhold certain debts or other liabilities.
It could turn out that Viveka had done Mikolas a favor, giving him this opportunity to review everything one final time before closing. He could, in fact, gain more than he’d lost.
Either way, Grigor’s determination to reach new terms and sign quickly put all the power back in Mikolas’s court, exactly where he was most comfortable having it.
Now he would establish that same position with Viveka and his world would be set right.
“Even if he finds her, what can he do to her?” she was murmuring, linking her hands together, nail beds white. “She’s married to Stephanos. His boss works for a man who owns news outlets. Big ones. Running her to ground would accomplish nothing. No, she’s safe.” She seemed to be reassuring herself.
“What about you?” He was surprised she wasn’t thinking of herself. “He sounded like he would hunt you down no matter where you tried to hide.” It was the dead-honest truth.
Dead.
Honest.
“So you might as well turn me over and save him the trouble? And close your precious deal with the devil?” So much fire and resentment sparked off her it was fascinating.
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