I awoke with the weight of Tia’s body pressing atop mine, fully relaxed in the throes of sleep. Her skin was warm and still a bit damp, which wasn’t surprising given the hours of lovemaking throughout the night and morning. Her warm breath tickled and I could feel the imprint of her braids on my upper arm.
I gazed down at her, committing every line of her face, every curve of her eyelashes, to memory. She looked so peaceful, so content. Tia belonged here … with me. I couldn’t remember ever being this happy or in love.
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I noticed it was already midafternoon. Tia had mentioned wanting to spend time with her mother today, since Deanna was leaving Greece tomorrow.
As much as I wanted to keep her in bed with me forever, I knew she’d be upset if she missed these precious hours with her mother. With gentle fingers, I traced the curve of her cheek, then leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple.
“Angel,” I whispered, brushing my lips against her ear. “Time to wake up.”
She stirred, burrowing deeper against my chest with a small sound of protest. I smiled, running my hand down her spine.
“Tia,” I tried again, a bit louder. “It’s almost one. You wanted to spend today with your mother, remember?”
Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks before she slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze met mine, still hazy with sleep.
“What time is it?” she murmured, voice husky.
“Almost one,” I repeated, playing with a thin braid. “You wanted to spend the day with your mother before her flight tomorrow.”
Tia sat up quickly, suddenly alert. “We were due for brunch with your family three hours ago.” She ran a hand through her tousled curls. “We were supposed to eat and then go shopping.”
I caught her hand as she moved to leave the bed, gesturing to the overnight bag I’d packed. “Your clothes are there, along with yourfavorite hair butter and that coconut oil moisturizer you can’t live without.”
She smiled, leaning over to kiss me. “You thought of everything.”
“We need to keep your skin moisturized,” I said simply.
With a grateful smile, Tia slipped from the bed. “Shower first, then we’ll go.”
Forty minutes later, we pulled up to the entrance of the estate. We stepped into the grand foyer of the mansion. It was unusual to not be greeted by the butler.
“I can’t wait for our picnic on Thalassía tomorrow,” Tia said. “Zeus will love running free on the beach.”
“He’s been whining at your door every night,” I replied, shrugging off my jacket. “I think he misses you more than I do.”
The words had barely left my mouth when a heart-wrenching cry echoed from the sitting room. We exchanged alarmed glances before hurrying toward the sound.
The sitting room was in disarray. Theia Irida sat crumpled in an armchair, her face buried in her hands as violent sobs shook her slender frame. My Yiayia paced nearby, tears streaming down her face as she shouted in rapid Greek about justice and betrayal.
Kayla and Tia’s mother kneeled beside Irida, offering comfort seemingly with no effect. In the corner, my father, Konstantin, and Dimitrios huddled in intense conversation.
“Father?” I called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s happened?”
My father crossed the room toward us, holding out a tablet with a grim expression. “Read this.”
I scanned the headline, my stomach dropping as the words registered: “Billionaire Stavros Christakis’ Death Ruled a Homicide, 30 Years Later.”
“What is it?” Tia asked, leaning closer to see.
I tilted the tablet so she could read the article, watching her expression shift to surprise.
“Stavros was my father’s uncle,” I explained to Tia. “He died before I was born.”
“It was that witch!” Theia Irida cried out, her face contorted in anguish. “Angela killed my brother!”
Yiayia nodded vigorously. “We always knew it. The American police wouldn’t listen.”
“Mother, please,” Konstantin interjected. “These are serious accusations with no evidence.”
