Apparently, Lorenzo and Vasilas were trying to come to some kind of agreement after Dorian’s death. But he wouldn’t budgeuntil he talked to me. I didn’t know Vasilas all that well, but he scared the hell out of me.
“You’re his brother’s widow, Sera,” Sergio said. “You’re entitled to all his shit.”
“I don’t want anything connected to him, Sergio. He’s dead. I’m free. I just want to move on.”
After he killed Dorian, I convinced him not to send Dorian’s head to his brother. That wouldn’t do anything but make things worse. I just wanted this part of my life done. I just hoped Vasilas was ready to move on, too.
“Welcome,” the man said. “Mr. Drakos is waiting. Follow me.”
He pushed open the heavy, weathered door.
I’d heard of the Trident Room. And even though I’d been married to Dorian, he never brought me. I wasn’t sure if it was because it was a place where the Drakos family handled business, or if it was because Dorian brought the women he fucked here to party.
I looked around the place. There were only a few people here. Shadows moved across the room as the amber lights flickered behind dark glass. A black metal chandelier shaped like a trident hung from the ceiling, its tips glowing, casting a soft, dim light that barely lit the space. If Vasilas was going for dark and mysterious, he nailed it.
“I can never get over how wild this place is,” Finley murmured as we made our way through what looked like the main room.
Thin, gold lines snaked their way through the shiny black tile of the floor, giving it a luxurious feel. Dark blue velvet drapes with gold tridents covered parts of the stone walls. Soft leather chairs sat in a triangle around a table made of driftwood and marble.
“This place is crazy,” I mumbled, agreeing with Finley.
“You’ve never been?” Sergio asked.
“Dorian didn’t take me anywhere other than family events. Most of the time I stayed home.”
I was embarrassed at how my life used to be with Dorian. He did a great job of isolating me from everyone. Making me feel like nobody cared that I was even alive. But it was a new day now. As long as long as Vasilas let everything go, I could move on with my life.
We stopped at one of the velvet curtains lining the wall. The man pulled it aside, uncovering a hidden doorway. Behind it was a long hallway that looked more modern than the rest of the Trident Room. But it also felt like we were walking into a dungeon.
“I don’t like this.”
The thick velvet curtain closed behind us, blocking out most of the noise from the main room. In front of us, smooth gray concrete walls stretched about ten to twenty feet. Soft amber lights, tucked into the baseboards and ceilings, lit the way.
Sergio pulled me closer to him by the waist. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Sera. I’ll fucking kill him if he tries anything.”
I didn’t doubt he would try to protect me, but I just wanted to see what Vasilas wanted, not start a bloodbath.
At the end of the hallway, a smooth black door sat level with the wall. It had no handle, no keyhole but had a glowing brass trident carved into its surface, like it was pressed into the metal.
When we reached the door, the man leaned in. A small, red-lit scanner about the size of a nickel sat at the base of the trident’s center prong. It lit up as he moved closer. The trident glowed followed by a sharp click. Then the door hissed, like air escaping, and slid sideways into the wall.
“Is that a retina scanner?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Sergio said. “It would seem Vasilas is also paranoid.”
“I will never get use to this shit,” Finley said, impressed with Vasilas’s setup.
It was impressive, but like with all mafia families, it was paid for with blood.
“Gentlemen,” the man in white said, “Mrs. Drakos.”
“Blaine.”
I corrected him but he didn’t respond, just stepped to the side, motioning us forward. We walked in, then the door closed behind us. A long black table, smooth and solid that looked like volcanic stone, filled the room. Twelve chairs made of steel and black leather were arranged around it, all facing inward. Behind the table, a huge, blackened brass trident hung on the rough, gray stone wall. To the right, a tall window framed in dull steel ran the full length of the room, looking out over the sea. Waves slammed into sharp rocks below. The glass blocked the sound, but the force of the water still seemed to hum through my chest.
“Have a seat,” Vasilas said.
My eyes darted to him. He sat at the head of the long table with Stavros, my other brother-in-law, sitting to his right. I could feel the weight of both their gazes. They weren’t affectionate towards each other when I was around but maybe they missed Dorian. However, I couldn’t feel any sorrow for their loss. He deserved to die and I was happy that I witnessed it.
