“We’re not him.” Theo raised his voice. “We could hire a PR company to help us navigate the issue.” Fear spilled into his stomach. The United States were their biggest importer. And his uncle had killed a couple on American soil. They’d have a lot of media attention and probably suffer a boycott from powerful clients.
Bacchus lifted his hand in disagreement, then plopped on the chair. Without saying a word, his father loosened his collar, exhaling for a bit longer than necessary. “I’m too tired to take on this fight. When you’re president, you’ll have the power to do as you please. I’ll finally be able to leave the company, knowing it’ll be in good hands. Meanwhile, we can find out how to go about this the correct way—”
Theo perched his hands on his belt, staring at his father, noticing the sweat slicking his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. High blood pressure and high cholesterol. The usual stuff.”
Theo swallowed. His father may seem in good physical shape, but it didn’t mean he resisted his mother’s cooking. “You don’t look okay, Dad.”
His father smiled. “I’m good. All I’m trying to say is I’m not the youngster I once was. When you take over, I’ll retire and get away from this mess. I want your uncle to pay for what he did, but only once I’ve secured your position in this company.”
Theo popped his knuckles. He’d shared the recent discovery with his old man because well, it was eating him up inside. He couldn’t trust Kostas, not with the strong bond he shared with their mother. Kostas would tell her, and she’d go insane.
Now, he wished he hadn’t told his father. Concern washed over his father’s expression, even if he tipped his lips upward. Shit. His heart heaved in his chest—going to his father for support had been selfish. “I’ll wait until I’m the new president. But not one moment longer.”
Theo entered his home, then picked up the correspondence neatly stacked on the console table. The thickest stock of paper captured his attention, and he opened the envelope.
An invitation for a pirate-themed party from a couple of British friends, Seth and Mary. They’d moved to Athens a decade ago and often indulged in flamboyant festivities and the like. Usually, Theo found an excuse to get out of the events that involved more fanfare, but this time…he imagined Amaya with him.
Why not? They’d be in costume, and no one would recognize him.
He’d always been so worried to take her to places where people from his circle could recognize him. Not that Talia would care or mind, but he didn’t want to make things awkward for Amaya. Didn’t want to deal with the repercussions from his family if they found out. Hell, the problem involving his uncle had been enough.
But this…he touched the edges of the golden invitation. He wouldn’t mind taking her with him to a place where they could just have fun and forget about all the bullshit. She deserved it. His heart squeezed in his chest. Fuck, she deserved the world.
“Amaya,” he called out, excited.
She flew down the stairs. “What’s up?”
“Tomorrow, I want you to order costumes. We have a pirate party to attend.”
…
Amaya fixed the headpiece in place. For the past hour, she’d been fumbling with her pirate wench costume, consisting of a black and red striped skirt with pointy edges, and a white one-shoulder top. A belt with a skull completed the ensemble, along with knee-length black boots and the eye patch across her right eye.
She added more dark red lipstick, happy with how the curls she’d done on her hair turned out. She looked at the mirror and smiled at her reflection. For the past two weeks, she’d fallen into her routine of calling Sam, Facetiming with her brother, sightseeing, and whenever Theo got home, being with him. They had hot sex, yes, but also watched movies and talked about current events.
She’d continued cooking for him, old dishes and new ones.
“Are you ready?” he asked outside her room.
She’d insisted they get ready separately so he wouldn’t remove her costume before she finished her look. Squealing, she twisted the door handle. He’d been invited to a party thrown by friends and asked her to go as his date.
When she opened the door, she took a step back. The moment he walked into her bedroom, the air was socked out of her lungs. Whoa.
A long dark gray coat cloaked his broad shoulders, and underneath he wore a fitted shirt. What caught her attention the most was the eye patch, similar to hers, and the long fake beard he sported. She erased the distance between them and touched it, mesmerized.
“Blackbeard?”
“Ahoy,” he said, removing a sparkling sword from his belt. He pressed her against him, and in an instant, she felt how hard he was. “You look positively delectable, matey.”
“And you don’t look half bad for a Greek pirate. That said,” she started, pushing him away, “I intend on going to this party and not feasting on each other all night.”
He inched closer, but she flattened her hand on his chest, pushing him away. “Maybe we can have a little taste.”
“I have a taste for you. When I went to the shop to order the costumes, I also bought a couple toys. But you need to be a good pirate if you want to play sometime.”
“You’re killing me,” he said.
