From some dim corner of her brain Vayle examined the veracity of his words. Debated whether he was accomplished enough to spout such vicious lies with a straight, albeit breathtaking face. Because theywerelies; they had to be. And yet the majority of her reasoning took in the complexities of elevated breathing and the bleak rage in those eyes fixed so ferociously on hers. Took in the stern brackets around his thinned lips and the jagged roughness of his voice that blared the evidence that he’d been pushed into confessing. Pushed to the edge—by her.
Vayle knew she would have to come up with something unassailable to refute what her senses screamed at her was the truth. Ahorrifyingtruth.
‘I know you’re their son.’ Those brown eyes, which were a shade darker than Agnes’s, and the male version of her mouth made it irrefutable. And she supposed his jet-black hair matched Tolis’s, although his father’s had turned more grey than black in the few years before his death. ‘Even though your surnames are different. And… I’ve known them for nearly two decades. Agnes had told me a tiny bit about you, but only that she’d lost you. I thought you were…’
She pursed her lips, not wanting to repeat or recall Agnes’s anguish when she’d spoken about her son. For years Vayle had believed ‘lost’ meant ‘died’, until she’d recently learned differently. ‘There has to be a better explanation for what happened than they threw you away.’
She couldn’t wrap her mind around what he was saying about the couple who’d arrived to helm her father’s flagship hotel after the banks and doctors had declared George Lancaster unfit to keep managing his own affairs.
Over the years they’d become like parents to Vayle, protecting her from her father’s many torments until his death, while co-managing the hotel with her after she’d finished university, and mentoring her to take over her inheritance one day.
While Tolis had had his moments of obstinacy and mild misogyny, he’d been miles better than her own father. Definitely not the parent Nelios had described.
Nelios took a step back, his emotions rapidly wrestled under control so he could stare down at her with something strongly resembling pity.
‘Is that the only straw in your sinking raft, Miss Lancaster?’ he mocked. ‘I changed my name at the first opportunity because I couldn’t abide the stench of it a second longer. Those people abandoned me and I renounced them legally on what was one of the best days of my life.’ The thick vein of satisfaction, victory and loathing in his voice said he was reliving the memory with much relish.
She shuddered, still unable to reconcile the two realities. Onehadto be a distortion.
‘You keep saying they threw you away, abandoned you. How…how is that even possible?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What were you told?’
She licked her lips, her pulse jumping when he followed the movement. Scrambling, she tried to recall what Agnes had toldher about the son she found painful to talk about. ‘Tolis, your father, rarely talked—’ She stopped when he snarled under his breath. ‘Agnes said they left you in Greece so you could continue your education. But that something happened, and they lost track of you…’
His teeth set harshly, his nostrils flaring for a moment before he turned away. She thought he would ignore her but surprisingly he spoke.
‘Of course they would couch it in such vague terms.’ He shook his head, his voice gravel-rough as he continued, ‘I came home from school on a normal day to find someone my father claimed had been sent by a friend of his in our home. A friend who happened to run a foster-care agency. I was told I had to be placed with this stranger for a while, while my parents pursued a rosy future for us in England. What she didn’t know was that even if we were destitute, I would have been prepared to live with them on the streets instead of being left behind.’
He stopped, clenched his jaw and exhaled. ‘As I said, I knew they were lying. We weren’t rich but we certainly weren’t destitute. And they’d forgotten how thin the walls in our house were—that or they didn’t care. I overheard them discussing it the night before but hadn’t fully understood what I’d heard, until the foster carer arrived. It was my father’s idea. My mother put up a token fight but she didn’t hold out for long.’
His mouth twisted. ‘And, yes, I said so to the carer. Gave her the real reason my parents were throwing me away. It was so they could make a better life for themselves in England, unencumbered by a child. She immediately marked me down as a troublemaker who liked to spin tales about his parents who were doing the right thing by seeking a better future for them and their child. The carer took their side, of course. Smiled approvingly as Tolis looked into my eyes and outright lied thatthey would be back in a year, when I’d heard them committing to at least three years in their new job the night before.’
His head snapped towards Vayle when she gasped.
His smile was a caricature of blinding white teeth. ‘Oh yes, I know that means something to you. I know you recognise the stipulations regarding your father’s guardianship. That the banks wanted whoever took over management of the hotel to be given a minimum three-year contract to ensure a stable tenure. And, yes, I know your father’s extremely lucrative offer is what lured my parents. An offer which included the small but significant clause that whoever took the position should bewithoutencumbrances. An offer they accepted.’
His body followed his head and he faced her once more, a towering pillar of icy control. ‘So, given the circumstances described to you, do you not think I was well within my rights to denounce them as they once denounced me?’ His question was a silky blade slicing through her jumbled senses.
Her fingers twisted in her lap. ‘But Agnes said she tried to keep in contact with you. She never forgot about you. That something must have gone wrong. Have you tried speaking to your mother about what happened, instead of causing all this destruction? Because there’s likely a good reason for it…that they… There has to be.’
His frozen face turned grimmer. ‘Does there? Why? Because it would suit your rosy outlook? Your fairy-tale imagination where you think you’ve been rescued from a fate worse than death, only to discover your fairy godparents were the real monsters all along?’
Something clogged in her throat. Something like horror… A sob… She swallowed it down and shook her head. ‘I know nothing I say can…will…change your mind. But the truth is, I know what I know.’
His teeth bared again. ‘Good. Keep believing what you wish to believe. If you’re saving me all the melodrama by admitting you can’t change my mind then we’re done here, feel free to return to the wardrobe until we land, if you prefer, but I won’t save you from another cramping episode, so bear that in mind.’
Vayle jumped up when he strode to the door. ‘Hold on. I never said I wasn’t willing to… I still need to talk to you about my hotel.’
He slanted her a mocking glance. ‘You meanmyhotel, seeing as you have no choice but to accept my offer? The simple answer is nothing. You’ve had a wasted journey and may well have an upcoming stint in jail to look forward to. Congratulations.’ He pulled the door open and walked out.
Knowing she would have to follow him, and show herself to his crew, made her cringe and seriously consider taking his offer to dive back into his wardrobe. It took a monumental effort to lock her knees and reheat courage gone cold at his devastating revelations. Revelations she would need to unpack later because right now she simply could not reconcile the two realities. Therewasa missing link somewhere. Until then, though…
She staggered one step forward and, realising she’d lost her shoes somewhere in her mad, cramping tumble, glanced at the wardrobe. But Vayle knew the second she approached it she would take the cowardly option and dive back in. Return to yet another dark cupboard, but this time of her own volition.
So, feet bare and courage woefully tepid, she hurried after Nelios Petralis.
She found him in the jet’s dining room—after several wrong turns and encounters with sharply dressed crew whose lack of surprise at an additional passenger’s appearance proved they’d known of her presence all along. And that, in sharp contrast totheir flawless attire, her poor imitation must have made her stick out like a sore thumb all through her doomed escapade.
