“Ah, yes.” His tone was sardonic. “My mistake. You don’t enjoy talking to anyone indeed. You just prefer to open your wallet and sign checks for anyone who asks you for money.”
His wife frowned, he raised a brow in challenge, but when she opened her mouth to protest, Leonidas held his hand up and turned to face Mrs. Sanchez and the rest of the staff, and...oh dear.Had their boss known all along that they had been watching and listening?
“Do tell, Mrs. Sanchez,” the billionaire drawled. “Am I right or am I right?”
Mrs. Sanchez and the others smiled apologetically at Lexy. As much as they wanted to take their young mistress’s side, they wanted her safe even more, and so—
“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m afraid Mr. Gazis is indeed right.”
Lexydidmake an easy mark for most people, with her stubborn desire to give everyone the benefit of the doubt...even if all signs pointed to the other party being a con artist.
Just last month, she’d nearly wired fifty thousand euros to a “charity” that turned out to be a front for money laundering. The month before that, she’d given her credit card number to a caller claiming to be from the bank. And the incident with the “stranded tourist” in Mykonos had required actual legal intervention.
It was remarkable in a way, how someone as academically brilliant as Lexy could be so...disconnected with reality. Perhaps it was because of her sheltered upbringing that Lexy seemed constitutionally incapable of believing anyone would lie to her face.
Mrs. Sanchez accompanied the couple upon disembarking, a limousine on standby to take them to the hotel. New York in early autumn was crisp and bright, the sky a sharp blue above the Manhattan skyline.
Heads turned as the couple entered the hotel lobby, and Mrs. Sanchez didn’t miss the way all the women’s gazes snagged on Leonidas—the golden hair, the powerful shoulders, that face like something carved by old gods with a sense of drama. But what made their expressions turn envious wasn’t just his looks. It was the way his attention remained solely focused on his wife. The way his hand rested at the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd. The way he angled his body between her and anyone who came too close.
A lion and his keeper, Mrs. Sanchez thought. Though she was never quite sure which one was which.
Once in their suite, it was also her boss who personally checked that his wife had her passport and wallet with her. He plugged in her phone to charge, knowing she would forget. He ordered room service—a full meal, not just coffee—because everyone knew Lexy had the tendency to forget to eat if she was left alone with her work.
“Remember, if you need anything—”
“I’m going to be fine, I promise.” Lexy’s voice was patient but firm. “It will just be three days.”
“The last time I left you for thirty minutes, you managed to—”
Lexy opened the door. “I’ll see you in three days, Mr. Gazis.”
Her boss was still frowning when the door closed in his face.
“Mrs. Sanchez—”
“We already have extra security assigned to Mrs. Gazis.” This was a conversation they had countless times, and contingencies were already in place.
“Make sure—”
“Twelve-hour shifts for each pair,” she added with a smile, “to ensure round-the-clock surveillance. They have strict instructions to remain unobtrusive but to intervene immediately if anyone approaches her with suspicious intent.”
She had also arranged for the hotel staff to be briefed, for Mrs. Gazis’s calls to be screened, and for any unexpected visitors to be turned away at the desk. But she kept those details to herself. Her boss didn’t need to know just how extensive the protocols had become over the years.
Leonidas turned to her with a grimace. “It seems I’ve become predictable where my wife is concerned.”
She was about to assure him with a smile that his predictability was the kind to be admired when her phone rang, and the name that flashed on the screen had her face turning carefully blank.
“We have a call from Milan, sir.”
Leonidas’s features went expressionless as well. Whatever warmth had softened him these past hours vanished, replaced by the cool, unreadable mask he wore in boardrooms and negotiations.
“I’ll take it.”
****
Two days later...
It might be time for a divorce.
