“Giannis is the father I never had. He’s been a better mother to me than the one who walked out on us. He has been my family, my friend; he’s everything to me. He came for me based on a small promise my drunkard father roped him into making for some age-old village tradition. If he hadn’t kept his word, I wouldn’t have known kindness or honor. I would have spent my life in poverty and misery. So yes, I would do anything if it means it would bring a smile to his face.”
His outburst stunned Leah, the ache in those words irrefutable, rendering her bitter accusations a lie. That he had suffered neglect at the hands of his parents, that there was so much depth to his determination toward his duty, it shook her from within.
The silence rang with his fury, his movements caged and restless.
He ran a hand over his eyes and exhaled, suddenly looking extremely tired. A haunted look wreathed his features. “I don’t care if you think he ruined your life. All he ever intended was to keep you safe, even from yourself.
“So you will not only act how Giannis Katrakis’s granddaughter and heiress should tonight, you will also spend the next few days with him, and you will tell him how grateful you are for everything.
“If you know what’s good for you, and I think that is one thing you know very well, you will obey me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
LEAH LOOKED OUT from the huge balcony that gave a view of the lush acreage surrounding her grandfather’s house.
The estate was covered with huge marquees. Multicolored fountains were lit up in the grounds, buffet tables groaning under the weight of delicacies and dishes. Soft music filtered from unobtrusive speakers nearer the house.
Laughter and greetings in Greek floated up from the crowd of two hundred or more guests, piercing through the melancholy that gripped her. In the half hour or so she had spent down there, she had only heard goodwill for Giannis and praise for Stavros and Dmitri.
It seemed her grandfather couldn’t have chosen better men to continue his legacy. She was the outsider, the curiosity, the unknown, and being among people who had known her mother, the fact hurt. Yet she had no one but herself to blame.
When she had stepped out of the limo on Stavros’s arm, it was as if the entire world had come to a standstill. Thundering silence had reigned as she had walked through the parting crowd, her gaze both searching for and bracing for the sight of her grandfather.
He’s taking a break, Stavros whispered in her ear and her breath left her in a ball. Her knees would have buckled beneath her if he hadn’t held her up against his solid frame.
An hour later, here she was waiting for Giannis, everything she had done over the past decade rushing up toward her.
She hadn’t been in her grandfather’s house for almost eight years now, having chosen to live with Calista at Stavros’s house even before he had tied her to him. The grand house was as lifeless as Stavros’s house had been full of peace.
Her grandfather had been so open and loving of her when Stavros had brought her home. Just fifteen, she had been grief-stricken, too shattered by her father’s sudden death to respond to Giannis with anything more than single-word responses. But he hadn’t given up on her. He had bid Stavros to bring Calista along next time. And just as he had predicted, Calista had been a welcome storm in her life—fun, reckless, daring, and somehow, she had understood Leah’s grief.
Except Leah had never imagined it would be Calista that she would lose.
Crippled by Calista’s loss, stunned by Stavros’s decision, she had refused to even look at Giannis. If she didn’t love him, if she didn’t hug him as her arms sometimes ached to, if she didn’t pin all her love on her kind grandfather who told her thrilling tales about a mother she had never known, she wouldn’t have to live through another loss.
If she didn’t love him, there would be no pain when he was gone. Even when Giannis had recovered from his heart attack, she had refused to see him.
Stavros was right. She had truly become selfish. A coward who cared about nothing but protecting herself from pain.
Something broke her reverie and she turned around.
Stavros standing slightly behind him, for support she knew, her grandfather stood under the archway, his brown eyes hungrily studying her. “Come close so I can see you.” His voice, soft and coarse, reverberated in the stillness. Tugged as though by invisible cords, she took a few steps. Her heart thudded in her chest.