“We lived the evidence!” Yiayia shouted, her small frame vibrating with rage. “Stavros was healthy as a bull, then he gets the flu and dies less than three months later!”
Irida collapsed into fresh sobs, her hands trembling. “She took him from us, then sold Thalassía to Michail... This confirms what we’ve always known.”
Tia’s mother rose from Irida’s side. “Irida, you should lie down.” She helped my theia to her feet. “This can’t be good for your heart.”
“Deanna’s right,” my yiayia agreed, suddenly looking every one of her seventy years. “Come, Irida. We need to rest.”
“I’ll help,” Kayla offered, supporting Irida’s other side.
“I’ll come too,” Tia said, squeezing my hand before releasing it.
As the women left the room, I turned back to my father and uncles, who had already closed ranks. I crossed the room to join them, my thoughts racing.
The family had whispered about Uncle Stavros’ suspicious death for as long as I could remember, but it had always been treated as a conspiracy theory. Until now.
“What does this mean?” I asked. “After thirty years, what evidence could they possibly have found?”
“According to the article, they exhumed his body. New forensic technology detected traces of a toxin that would have presented like influenza in the 1990s.”
“But why now?” I pressed. “After all this time?”
Dimitrios shook his head. “The article doesn’t say. Only that an anonymous tip led to the investigation.”
“I need to contact our attorneys in New York immediately,” my father said, checking his watch. “I’ll set up a conference call in my study.”
Konstantin nodded. “I’ll call Mattheios. I also need to talk to Kayla.”
“Have the jet prepared,” my father instructed Dimitrios. “We may need to fly to New York tonight. I want us there when the police start asking questions.”
“What about his sons?” I asked. “Your cousins?”
Dimitrios’ face hardened at my question. “Leon and Nolan? They’ve wanted nothing to do with this family for decades.”
“They were just boys when it happened,” my father said, his voice softer than I expected. “Their mother cut ties completely.”
“Angela raised them to believe we were monsters,” Dimitrios added bitterly. “That we were trying to steal what was rightfully theirs.”
My father checked his watch again. “I need to make those calls now. The New York office will be opening soon.” He turned to Konstantin. “Have the pilot ready the jet. I want to leave tonight if possible.”
Konstantin nodded. “I’ll take care of it after I talk to Kayla.”
They both departed quickly, leaving me alone with Dimitrios. My uncle moved to the bar cart again, this time pouring himself something stronger.
“Do you want one?” he asked.
I nodded and watched as he poured a generous measure of aged whiskey into two glasses.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I asked, accepting the drink from him.
“Were you the orchestrator of that video last night?”
“I did what had to be done.” The whiskey burned pleasantly down my throat.
“I was wrong about you Santo.” Dimitrios exhaled, shaking his head. “I thought this thing with Tia was to get back at Katalina, but you’re crazy about her.”
I traced the rim of my glass with my thumb, gathering my thoughts before speaking. “It was about revenge and hurting Kat at first. I’ve wanted to get even since Vasquez sent me that video of Kat sucking him off. But after I spent more time with Tia, real feelings developed. She’s my everything.”
My uncle’s eyes bored into mine. “I hope for your sake she never finds out.”
