The first time in a long while Adira decides to enjoy herself, it ends in utter chaos-a nightclub drenched in mayhem and blood, and her perched awkwardly on the lap of a dangerously handsome stranger who radiates trouble. Their rude encounter sets the stage for something far more sinister. Now, thrust into a twisted partnership with the enigmatic Andronikos Karas, she must navigate a web of crime, power plays, and the unbearable tension that crackles between them. Will Adira surrender to the magnetic pull of her heart, or will she hold firm and reject the temptation threatening to consume her? It wasn't supposed to go this way. Andronikos had a plan: steal the girl, use her to destroy her father, take Abara Inc., and finally settle the score for the pain her family inflicted on his years ago. Revenge, cold and calculated, was all he ever wanted. Holding her was meant to be nothing more than a step in his elaborate game. But as days turned to weeks, and his connection to Adira deepened, the fire inside him began to smolder. It was subtle at first, a flicker of something he couldn't name. Over time, it grew-a primal yearning that both thrilled and terrified him. Andronikos has always been relentless in pursuing what he wants, and now, more than revenge, it's Adira he craves. But vengeance and desire make for a dangerous combination, and as the lines blur, one thing becomes clear: he'll stop at nothing to claim both his justice and the woman who's become the center of his world.
Chapter 1 ADIRA
"Are you absolutely certain you want to spend your vacation in Greece?" my mother asked, her brow furrowed as she meticulously folded one of my blouses and placed it into the open suitcase.
"Yes, Mama." I didn't look up, focusing on carefully tucking a bag of Flamin' Hot Lays into my carry-on. They were my absolute favorite-life's spicy little indulgence. "Mykonos is quiet. Peaceful. After the chaos of the last two years with Babas, I need peace."
The mere thought of last night's argument made my headache resurface. Eight years shadowing him, two years as COO, and still he acted like taking a vacation was a betrayal. My father treated ambition like a battlefield, and I was his soldier, expected to march without rest.
Mama sighed, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I just think Greece is too far away. Why not Canada instead? I heard there's a fantastic gyros place in Toronto,"
"Gyros?" I asked, trying not to laugh. "Mama, the gyros in Mykonos will blow Canada's out of the water. Trust me."
Still, her worried gaze lingered on the bag of Flamin' Hot Lays in my hands. "Do you really need to take those?" she asked, ignoring my comment. "You'll ruin your stomach."
I smirked. "What's life without a little spice?" I slipped the bag into my carry-on triumphantly.
She shook her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Just be careful, darling. I don't want you getting hurt-or winding up with food poisoning because of those chips."
I stifled a groan, dropping my carry-on beside the bed. She meant well, but her logic was maddening. "Mama," I said, turning to face her. Her soft brown hair framed her face, her green eyes shimmering with worry. Her timeless beauty always managed to disarm me.
Taking her delicate hand, I squeezed it gently. "You don't need to worry. I've traveled solo for the past five years and I'm still here-alive and well. Hrémosi, Mama. I'll be okay."
Her eyes glistened, and I knew the waterworks were about to start.
"Oh no. Please don't cry," I pleaded, already bracing myself. "You're acting like I'll wind up... I don't know... dead with a blood-stained note in front of the house."
Bad move. Her sniffles turned into a sob.
"Okay, not dead," I backtracked quickly. "Maybe just... hairless? With extra piercings?"
Strike two. Her tears escalated. I forgot how much mama loves my curls.
I sighed, pulling her into a hug. She relaxed slightly in my arms, though her sobs continued. Finally, she quieted, lifting her head to meet my gaze.
"One day, that mouth of yours is going to land you in serious trouble," she warned, dabbing her nose with a silk handkerchief.
I rolled my eyes. "It's the same mouth that's kept the company in the Fortune 500," I quipped, earning a playful slap on my arm.
"Ouch!" I protested, feigning pain.
"That's what you get for not behaving like a proper lady," she teased, a faint smile breaking through her worry.
As she turned to leave, she paused by the door. "Please, just be careful," she said softly. "And smile more, dear. You don't want wrinkles like mine."
I laughed as she left, shaking my head. If that's what I'd look like with wrinkles, I had no complaints.
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The airport buzzed with life, an endless stream of travelers weaving through terminals. My father stood beside me, his imposing frame a beacon of authority. At six feet tall, with arresting brown eyes and a bald head that gleamed under the airport lights, he had a presence that demanded respect. As a first-generation African American man, he wore his hard-won success like a badge of honor.
"Did you really need to take a commercial flight?" he asked, arms crossed in disapproval. His deep voice carried the authority that had propelled him to success.
"Yes, Babas." I met his stern gaze. "It's first class. Hardly a cattle car."
His silence lingered before he finally relented, nodding curtly.
"Just be safe," he said, his voice softer now. For a moment, the unshakable titan of industry looked vulnerable, tired.
"I will," I promised, my tone gentler. "I'll call as soon as I land."
His expression softened further as he opened his arms. "Come here, little warrior."
The nickname melted my resolve. He'd called me that ever since I stood up for a classmate in kindergarten, fists clenched and ready to defend. I stepped into his embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
"This is the final boarding call for Destination: Athens," the announcement echoed.
"You wouldn't be rushing if you'd just taken the private jet," he muttered, always needing the last word.
Laughing, I stepped back and grabbed my bags. "Goodbye, Babas," I said, giving him a playful salute as I headed for the gate.
This trip was meant to be an escape, a reset. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, silently praying Mykonos wouldn't add to the chaos I was leaving behind.