“Show me a proposal for this alleged business you want to start. If I find it sound,” he said, stressing how improbable he found the very idea, “I will invest in it myself.”
Anger and hurt ripped through Leah, leaving her trembling all over. Her chest was so tight that it was a miracle she could breathe.
She wanted to smash the expensive porcelain vase on the side table next to her, she wanted to let the scream building away in her chest loose, she wanted to...
“I don’t want your investment. I don’t want anything from you. I want my money. I want this...my career—I need this to be about me, Stavros, something I love doing, something I can take on without fear. Something I give all of myself to.”
“I should have made my intentions clearer to you far sooner. You were right, I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long. But now that you are here, I will correct the situation immediately.”
Her heart lurched into her throat, cutting off Leah’s breath. Whatever it was that he meant, it wasn’t going to be remotely what she wanted. “What do you mean?”
“When I gave my word to Giannis that I would protect you, even from yourself, I didn’t mean it temporarily, Leah. I meant the until death do us part. Whatever way that death might come for you. So let’s get two things straight.”
He looked like someone had carved his features in stone, removed every ounce of emotion from it. “This lawyer friend of yours... he should know better than to tangle with my wife.
“Secondly, you’ll move in with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s high time we started our life together.
“And as for your career, we will get a fashion house, London or Milan or Paris, whatever you choose, to launch a line for you. As my wife, you will lack for nothing.”
CHAPTER THREE
LAUNCH A LINE from a top design house in the world? Lack for nothing as his wife?
His wife?
He had to be joking; he had always liked making her miserable!
You cannot see that boy anymore, Leah...
No more trips to New York...
Giannis allows you far too much financial freedom but not anymore...
Leah met his gaze and everything within her stilled.
Stavros Sporades didn’t give his word or make a promise easily. When he did...
Fear struck her so hard that her knees shuddered under her.
He instantly moved forward to catch her but Leah jerked away from him. “Don’t come near me,” she whispered.
She grabbed the door to stop from sliding to the floor in a puddle. She wanted to scream her denial but what left her mouth was a soft gasp.
He would never forgive her, or himself, for Calista’s death, never even give her a chance. Would punish them both for the rest of their lives.
And to even contemplate being his wife in the true sense of the word...
Perversely, she felt a chilly calm inside instead of a boiling rage. “When I decided to come here today, I didn’t even care about whether I was married to you or not. I didn’t care about being so lonely all these years...friends I knew once living their life to the fullest... I lived it as if I deserved to be punished. But now...I won’t quietly accept your word this time.
“I’m going to file for divorce, Stavros.”
A tic played in his jaw, the only thing that betrayed his even gaze. He looked insurmountable, like a boulder intent on crushing her. “Lawyers and court proceedings cost money.”
That patronizing tone set her teeth on edge. “I will sell myself if I have to, to pay for it. Within the week, I will move out of that flat, will be handing in my resignation at the fashion house. The moment I step out of here, I’m going to call Philip and tell him what I plan to do.”
He moved to block her path, his gait predatory. “I’m not your enemy, Leah.”
Panic pushed a hundred different flight routes in her head, one more desperate than the next. “No? Because God help me the day you decide that you are. If your goons even lay a finger on me, I will go to the media and start talking about how you have treated me over the last five years. I’ll tell them I’ve been nothing but a glorified prisoner.
“I’m sure they would love to hear that saintly Stavros Sporades is nothing but a sadist.”