Клэр Коннелли – Bride Behind The Billion-Dollar Veil (страница 2)
Twelve years ago
‘LISTEN TO ME.’
Thanos looked up at his brother, barely able to see him through the fog of rage and disbelief that shrouded his every thought and feeling.
‘We will get it back.’
Thanos gripped the pen in his hand, returning his attention to the imperious black line at the bottom of the contract. A contract for the sale of Petó, the company their grandfather, Nicholas Stathakis, had built from the ground up. The company Thanos had learned to operate at his grandfather’s knee. The company that meant everything to him.
‘No.’ He dropped the pen to the boardroom table, extending to his full six and a half feet, striding across the room with a ramrod-straight back.
He knew his half-brother was watching him, and he knew Leonidas was feeling the same sense of outrage and disbelief. Only Leonidas was somehow better at processing this. He was calm, outwardly, even as their world crumbled around them, whereas Thanos wanted to torch the building on his way out.
He braced his palms on the floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out on downtown Athens. All of this they had once commanded.
All of this, their father had destroyed.
‘We will get it back, Thanos,’ Leo repeated, with urgency. ‘But we must sell it for now.’
Nausea split Thanos’s side. Sell it? Sell the jewel in their grandfather’s business empire? Because their father had tied the company to the mafia?
Thanos ground his teeth together, locking his jaw intently. He wanted to say there was another way. He wanted to fix this. To make it better. And suddenly he was eight years old again, watching his mother walk away. He was eight years old and knowing himself to be the instrument of a family’s breakdown. He was eight years old and everything in this world was his fault. But this was so much worse.
Nicholas had trusted Thanos with Petó, and he’d been careless. He’d trusted Dion Stathakis—their father—when he should have seen what was happening right beneath his nose.
What could he do now?
‘I cannot bear to think of someone else running his business.’ Thanos’s voice cracked with the strength of his emotions.
‘Do you think I can?’ Leonidas growled, and Thanos turned to face his brother then, their eyes meeting with complete understanding. This situation was wrong. Wrong in every way.
Leonidas softened his expression a little. ‘But this is the best possibility we could have hoped for. Kosta Carinedes wants Petó. His plan to fold it into his own logistics empire are sound, so too the rebranding he envisages. Petó will live on, Thanos, and it will continue to prosper.’
Thanos’s stomach clenched. ‘But not by our hands.’
‘No.’ Leonidas’s eyes glittered in acknowledgement of that.
‘I will not live in a world where this company is not mine, Leonidas. One day, one way or another, Petó will be ours again.’
Leonidas nodded slowly but Thanos wasn’t satisfied. ‘Swear it to me, Leo. Swear to me now that we will right this wrong—and all our father’s wrongs—even if it takes us the rest of our lives.’
Leonidas expelled a soft, low breath. ‘I swear it. But you must sign the contract now.’
Thanos nodded, knowing his brother to be correct. Still, he glared at the paper as though it were a writhing tangle of snakes at his feet. He lifted the pen with difficulty and hovered it over the page, his perennial tan paled to straw in that moment.
He scrawled his name on the page and silently swore to himself, once more, that this wasn’t the end.
This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Petó was a part of his blood and his DNA, and it always would be.
ALICE TOOK A full ten seconds to remember who she was and what she was doing. For a moment, the appearance of one man had managed to skittle everything from her mind: her job, her responsibilities; the mountain of medical bills she had in her handbag waiting for her to wade through at lunch time; the credit card that was almost maxed, and the fact this temp position would be finishing in two weeks, meaning she’d yet again need to find a job; her mother’s worsening condition and Alice’s inability to find a proper long-term solution for her care. Every second of every day those considerations pursued her, but for a moment, with the sound of the elevator doors opening to the top floor of the glass and steel monolith that was Stathakis Towers, she found the chatter of her mind was silenced and all she could do was stare.
Her almond-shaped brown eyes tracked his progress across the office, her pulse hammering her body from the inside out, the closer he came to her desk.
Thanos Stathakis was here. In his office. In Manhattan.
Despite the fact she’d temped for the man for five months, she hadn’t once laid eyes on him, outside the endless stream of photos that littered the Internet. Photos of him invariably in a state of undress, relaxed, surrounded by a bevy of supermodels and actresses, partying, drinking, living the kind of life Alice could barely imagine.
The kind of life her father had also adored. The thought should have been sobering, but it wasn’t. She was almost mesmerised by the sight of him in the flesh.
Thanos Stathakis wasn’t just a man.
He was a legend.
His success in business was renowned—alongside his brother, he’d turned a crumbling business into an empire once more, like a powerful phoenix rising from the ashes of scandal and failure. But it was more than that. Thanos Stathakis was unlike anyone she’d ever known—in person, it was easy to see why the world’s media was obsessed with him.
If there was a mould for tall, dark and handsome then Thanos had certainly broken it. He was broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, with strength and charisma in every long stride of his powerful legs. Unlike the photographs she’d seen of him, he wore a suit now, navy blue with a crisp white shirt that only served to emphasise the depth of his tan. His eyes were caramel-coloured and rimmed in thick, curling black lashes, so he looked almost as though he’d worked overtime with a mascara wand. He was the very image of the billionaire magnate she knew him to be, with the exception of his hair, which was somehow wild and untamed, as though he’d stepped straight off a speedboat on the Riviera and into the doors of this Manhattan monolith.
She stared at him because she couldn’t help it, and even when his eyes jerked to hers, she didn’t look away. Not for several long, compelling seconds.
His lips curled in what could have been a smile, or could have been derision, and then he stopped close enough to her desk for Alice to hold her breath.
‘You’re the temp?’
It was enough to jolt her back into the present—and who she was to him. The temp! As if she hadn’t been keeping his life running seamlessly these past five months, since his regular assistant had been on leave.
‘Alice, yes.’
‘Alice.’ He nodded, as if it didn’t matter, and in a way that made her absolutely certain he’d have forgotten her name again in an instant.
Except he didn’t turn and walk away. He continued to stare at her in a way that set her pulse racing, so she had to forcibly remind herself that he generally occupied himself with glamorous models, that there would be nothing in her somewhat plain face to cause him to stare like this. No, he must have another reason for looking into her eyes as though he’d seen her before.
He blinked then, like severing a thread, his dark lashes closing against his cheeks, forming perfect fans for the briefest of seconds before he opened his eyes and speared her with his intent gaze.
‘Print the file on P & A Industries. I have a meeting in ten minutes.’
He spun on his heel and stalked towards the office to her left—an office she’d only been into once or twice since taking up this role. It was his office, and he hadn’t been in New York the whole time she’d been at Stathakis Corp.
It was the final straw in rousing Alice back to reality.
Years ago, she’d looked at another man with that same deer-in-the-headlights sense of drowning and she’d come to regret it hugely. She’d fallen for Clinton’s practised flirtation, hook, line, and sinker, and learned a valuable lesson—she wouldn’t fall for another man’s easy charms, ever again. And Thanos Stathakis was not in the realm of Clinton. Thanos was…bigger and somehow more dangerous.
She had no business staring at him as though he were the second coming.
She pushed back from her desk, following behind him. ‘A meeting, sir?’
He opened the door, moving into the enormous space without turning the lights on, so it was Alice who flicked the switch and brought the overheads to life.
Like the rest of the building, this large room had a Scandinavian feel, with light timber furniture, pale walls and a cream carpet. The artwork was minimalist, the light fittings modern and striking. His desk sat against one wall with a state-of-the-art computer atop it and a piece of expensive art behind it; across the room, framed perfectly by floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased an incredible view of Manhattan, was a boardroom table large enough to accommodate twenty-two people.