My pride wanted to argue. My bank account was screaming at me to shut up and take the offer. And somewhere underneath it all, a tiny voice was whispering to tell him about the babies.
“Such as?” I asked carefully.
“Dresses, jewelry, and shoes. The personal touches that matter to her. You have exceptional taste in footwear.”
I narrowed my eyes at my phone, even though he couldn’t see me. “You’re trying to piss me off.”
“I am trying to prevent you from bankrupting yourself when we both want the same thing. A beautiful wedding for our children.”
Damn him for being right. And damn him for making sense when my whole world felt like it was spinning out of control. “Fine.”
“You are certain?”
“I said fine, didn’t I?”
A pause. “Dede, you are well, yes? You sound... tired.”
My throat constricted. Even over the phone, he could read me too well. “I’m fine. Long day.”
“I should let you return to what you were doing,” he said finally.
“Yeah. Thanks for calling.”
After we hung up, I stared at my phone for a long while.
10
Several hours before the phone call…
I’d always believed a man provided for his family. Period. No negotiations, no splitting costs, no modern nonsense about fifty-fifty when it came to my responsibilities.
My future daughter-in-law’s mother had other ideas.
Theó mou, the woman was going to give me a stroke.
“She wants to pay for half of the wedding.” I kept my voice level despite the tension coiling in my shoulders as I stood at the window of my corner office, my reflection glaring back at me in the glass. Dark eyes, too much gray creeping into the black at my temples, the face of a man past forty who’d learned that control was its own comfort.
Behind me, Dimitrios’ chair creaked. No doubt he was sprawled in it as if he were lounging at a beach club rather than in my office, dark hair trimmed short, his shirt open at the throat.
“I thought we were meeting to discuss the labor dispute. Who the fuck are we talking about now?”
“Deanna White. Tia’s mother.” I turned from the window, straightening my cuffs.
Dimitrios blinked. “And this is a problem because...?”
“Because I’m paying for my son’s wedding,” I said firmly. “The castle, the venue, the flights and accommodations for all the guests. It’s already arranged.”
“So tell her that,” Kostas added from his position on the sofa, his usual calm making him look every inch the diplomat. He’d always been the composed one.
“I did. Through Chrysanthos.” I moved to my desk, bracing my hands on the surface. “She’s not accepting it. She made it clear to Chrysanthos that she intended to contribute her fair share to the wedding.”
“Women,” Matthaios muttered from his position by the bookshelf, swirling his coffee. My cousin had arrived unexpectedly just before Konstantin. He had grown up with us like a fourth brother, though he was aunt Irida’s only son. “Simone disappeared off the face of the earth, and her bratty sister won’t talk. Not even Michail knows where she is, though he assured me she’s alive.”
“Watch how you talk about my wife, Matthaios,” Kostas said sharply. “It’s your own fault Simone left.”
“Kayla left your ass. Why do you even care what I say about her?” Matthaios took a sip of coffee. “She is spoiled and bratty.”
“You spoke to your father?” I asked Matthaios, redirecting before they could continue.
