Chapter 2

TESSA

The awkward atmosphere follows us from the entrance hall, hanging thickly over our heads. All my muscles are tense as if my body is ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

Then again, I should’ve made a run for it when Nikolas walked into the house covered in blood.

Tonight is going to be tortuously long, that’s for sure.

Mom and Athina talk about the upcoming wedding while the harsh reality sinks in – there’s a real possibility Nikolas killed, or at the very least, tortured someone right before coming here.

God, what was Mom thinking? Out of all the men she could’ve chosen, she had to pick the retired Godfather of the mafia.

Honestly, although I grew up in the mafia, I don’t know much about it. Mom always sheltered me, especially after Dad passed away. Most of the things I’ve heard were from my friends at school who were mafia princesses and my hateful cousin, Irene, who swooned over the man every chance she got. Some of my friends were madly in love with Nikolas as well, but the rest feared him as if he were death itself. Not wanting to find out for myself what kind of man he is, I kept myself separate from the murky waters of the mafia.

And I plan on keeping it that way.

Athina gives me a rueful smile while Basil’s busy on his phone. She notices and grabs the device from her husband's hand. “No phones at the table.” Then she turns her attention back to me. “You’re studying film production, right?”

“Ah… yeah.” I clear my throat.

“I think it’s interesting. I’ve never met someone in that field,” Athina replies, her tone friendly and genuine interest shining in her dark brown eyes.

Now that I actually get to look at her, I have to admit she’s gorgeous. She has plush lips and the same high cheekbones as Nikolas. If I’m not mistaken, Athina is eleven years older than me. The age difference alone sets us apart, never mind the fact she’s a mafia princess, and I’m… I’m the farthest thing from one.

“Unless you want more bodies delivered to your doorstep, you’ll get out of my fucking city,” Nikolas’ voice carries on a dangerous growl into the dining room. My eyes snap to the entrance, and an icy fear slithers down my spine when I watch him end whatever call he was on as he comes into the room.

Holy shit. This is really happening. I have to actually be social with a man who just threatened someone – a man who seriously looks like hell incarnate.

God help me.

He takes a deep breath then presses a kiss to the top of Athina’s head. “It won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” she mutters, but there’s no bite to her tone.

Nikolas walks to Mom and air kisses her cheek. “Sorry about the blood, Helena.”

Mom pats his arm as if it was nothing, making my lips part and my eyebrows draw together.

How can she just pretend it’s an everyday occurrence and nothing to worry about? My God, he probably killed someone right before coming here and threatened another person right in front of us!

Peter comes in, taking a seat next to Mom, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Nikolas as he stops by my chair.

Oh, God.

My heart instantly scampers off at a crazy beat, and a chill spreads over my skin, making me feel cold even though it’s a warm spring evening.

Feeling smaller than a speck of dust about to face off with the winds of a category five hurricane, I somehow manage to stand up, my legs numb and threatening to give way beneath me.

Nikolas’ sharp and merciless gaze sweeps over the length of my body, then his eyes lock with mine. Definitely sinful nights swirling in those irises. Not the sexy kind but the ruthless and painful kind. I suddenly have the urge to swallow hard.

“I apologize for the first impression I made.” It doesn’t sound like an apology but more like a threat, his voice deep and dangerous.

Somehow, I remember my manners. I introduce myself, the tightness in my voice giving away that I’m scared, “Theresa Drakatos. I prefer to be called Tess.”

He lifts his hand, and remembering the blood that coated his skin only minutes ago, I stare at it as if it’s a snake.

Yeah, no. That’s a hard pass for me. I don’t need that kind of bad karma in my life.

My gaze cautiously lifts to his, and I watch as those dark brown irises become even darker. Something akin to amusement flashes through them like a bolt of lightning.

The kind of amusement a cat has while playing with a mouse.

He pulls his hand back. “Seeing as we’ll be family soon, let’s forgo the formalities.” Before I can take another breath, his hands grip hold of my bare shoulders, and I’m tugged against his solid chest. Instead of air kissing my cheeks, his lips singe my skin.

Rich and woody with notes of spice, raw masculinity, mystery… and something edgy, his scent fills my nostrils.

Probably the scent of blood.

The scent of power.

I’m so caught off guard I can’t process what’s happening until his mouth finds my ear. Goosebumps explode over my skin. “That’s the last time you’ll disrespect me. Next time you take my fucking hand.”

God, the threatening whisper sounds like velvet and thorns, causing a shiver of intense fear to rush through me.

Just as quickly as he took hold of me, he lets go, a menacing smirk plastered on his face. As if he didn’t just threaten me, he takes the seat to my left even though there are other seats available.

I don’t do confrontations. Ever. Because of how my cousin, Irene, tortured me, I struggle with anxiety and hence avoid any kind of volatile situation. Nikolas is as volatile as they come, though.

God, this is not going to end well for me. I can just feel it.

Dropping back down in my chair, I glance at Mom to check if she saw what just happened, but she’s too busy staring lovingly at her fiancé.

“Everything okay, Tess?” Athina asks, her eyes jumping between her brother and me.

Not wanting to start a fight with Nikolas and ruin Mom’s evening, I force my lips to curve up. “Yes.” She doesn’t look convinced, so I add, “It’s just overwhelming meeting everyone.”

Overwhelming is the understatement of the year! Holy shit.

Just sitting next to Nikolas, it feels like the air is vibrating as if every molecule is terrified of him.

“By the end of dinner, we’ll be one big happy family,” Peter says, but it sounds more like an order. A server comes in to fill our glasses with champagne, then Peter lifts his. “T o new family.”

My soon-to-be stepbrother already threatened me, and I’ve only known him for a couple of minutes.

Yeah, I’m dead sure I want no part of the Stathoulis family.

Still, like the good girl I’m expected to be, I raise my glass to the toast, hoping to God I make it through the dinner in one piece.