My gaze lingered on the doorway where Dede had vanished before I refocused on the crisis at hand. Chrysanthos asked about the investigation and my cousins—Leon and Nolan, Stavros’s sons.
I explained how Angela had completely severed their connection to our family after my uncle’s death, raising them to believe we had stolen their inheritance and poisoning them against us for decades.
“I need to contact our attorneys in New York immediately,” I said, checking my watch and calculating the time difference. “I’ll set up a conference call in my study.”
Kostas nodded. “I’ll call Matthaios. I also need to talk to Kayla.”
“Have the jet prepared,” I instructed Dimitrios. “We may need to fly to New York tonight. I want us there when the police start asking questions.”
We dispersed quickly, leaving Chrysanthos with Dimitrios. As I headed to my study, I pulled out my phone, already composing what needed to be done, even as my thoughts returned to Dede.
After a thirty-minute call with our legal team in New York, I ended the meeting with clear directives. The lawyers would request all evidence the NYPD had collected to reclassify Stavros’s death, file motions to protect our family’s privacy, and prepare for what could become a media spectacle.
I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples where tension had settled. My phone displayed a missed call from Kostas and a text confirming our flight would depart at four PM.
I rose from my desk, the morning’s revelations weighing heavily on my mind. Exiting the study, I made my way toward the grand staircase. I needed to pack a few essentials before the flight, and my mind was already cataloging what needed to be done before departure.
On the second floor, where my suite was located, movement in the hallway caught my eye. Dede was walking slowly near my bedroom, glancing at doorways as if searching for something.
I paused at the top of the stairs. “You are lost, yes?”
She startled, turning toward my voice. “Aris. I was looking for Tia’s room. This house is a maze.”
Instead of answering, I closed the distance between us, took her wrist, and pulled her toward my bedroom door. She didn’t resist, following me silently until we reached it.
“This isn’t Tia’s room,” she commented when I opened the door.
“No,” I agreed, guiding her inside before closing the door behind us. “It is not.”
Her eyes swept across the space. The king bed was made with white linens, and a silver-framed photograph of my father holding an infant Chrysanthos sat on the bedside table.
I braced one arm above her head, crowding her space without touching her. “You left without saying goodbye.”
“I said goodbye,” she countered. “Every kiss, every touch last night was a goodbye.”
The memory of her beneath me, around me, flooded back with visceral intensity. The sounds she’d made, the way she’d surrendered completely, as though trying to imprint herself upon my skin.
Dede was right. She had said goodbye in the most intimate way possible.
“Not enough,” I murmured. “I want one last kiss”
She shook her head. “We can’t. You know we can’t.”
“One kiss, Dede.” I lowered my head until our foreheads touched. “To close this chapter properly, yes?”
“Our children…”
“They are not here,” I finished. “One kiss. Then I show you to Tia’s room.”
“One kiss,” she whispered.
I took her face between my hands, stroking her cheekbones with my thumbs before pressing my lips to hers. The kiss started gently, but gentleness couldn’t contain what burned between us.
I deepened the kiss, my tongue seeking entrance, which she readily granted. Her fingers clutched at my shirt, pulling me closer as the kiss transformed from farewell to desperation. I pinned her more firmly against the door and grasped her hips.
For these stolen minutes, nothing existed beyond this woman. Minutes passed, perhaps longer, as we lost ourselves in what we both knew would be our final embrace.
A knock on the door broke the spell.
