At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim

CHAPTER SIX

‘STEFAN, are you even listening to me?’

Stefan turned his gaze from the window of his Athens office to his lawyer, Kostas. ‘Pardon?’

‘Have you heard a word I’ve been saying? I’ve been telling you that Baxter has agreed to all our terms. We’ve been working on this deal for over a year. We should celebrate.’

Stefan didn’t feel like celebrating. He listened to his friend offer profuse congratulations, his mind preoccupied with Selene.

What the hell had possessed him to sleep with someone as inexperienced as her?

Her overreaction to the news of the photographs had made him realise how young she was. She’d said she wanted independence, but then freaked out at the thought of her father finding out.

Clearly surprised by the lack of response, Kostas paused. ‘Don’t you want to hear the details?’

‘No. I pay you an exorbitant amount to handle details for me.’

Was it the sex that had made her panic? Remembering the bruises made him shift in his seat but nothing relieved the guilt. He’d never bruised a woman before. A love-bite maybe, but not bruises like those. They were finger-marks, caused by someone grabbing her too roughly, and the worst thing was he had no recollection of doing it.

Kostas closed the file. ‘Do you want to meet him in person?’

‘Meet who in person?’

Stefan went through their encounter in minute detail, trying to identify when exactly he’d hurt her. He’d been gentle with her. Careful. At no point had he been rough and yet somehow he’d caused those sick-looking yellow bruises.

Yellow bruises. He frowned. ‘How old is a bruise when it turns yellow?’

His lawyer stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Bruises,’ Stefan snapped. ‘Is a fresh bruise ever yellow?’

‘I’m no doctor, but doesn’t it take about a week for a bruise to turn yellow? Longer than a week?’

‘Theé mou.’ How could he have been so dense?

Driven by a sense of urgency that was new to him, Stefan pulled out his phone and called his pilot—only to be told that he’d already delivered Selene safely to Poulos, the closest island to Antaxos. From there she’d planned to catch a boat home.

Home, where presumably her father would now be waiting.

Stefan was in no doubt as to who was responsible for those bruises.

That was why she wanted to escape from the island. Not just because she wanted her independence, but because she was afraid for her life. Afraid of her father.

The memories came from nowhere, thudding into his gut like a vicious blow.

Why doesn’t she come home, Papa?

Because she can’t. He won’t let her. He doesn’t like to lose.

The emotion inside him was primal and dangerous.

How could he have been so blind? He was probably one of the few people who knew just what Stavros Antaxos was capable of and yet he’d let his own emotions about the past blind him to the truth of the present.

‘He’s not going to let her go. He’s never going to let her go.’ He growled the words and his lawyer looked at him, startled.

‘Who—?’

‘I’m going to get her out of there.’ Driven by emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for over two decades, Stefan was on his feet and at the door before his lawyer had even finished his question. ‘I’m going to Antaxos.’

‘There is no safe landing spot on the island of Antaxos. It’s renowned for its inhospitable coastline.’

‘I’ll fly to the yacht and take the speedboat.’ He delivered instructions to his pilot while Kostas caught up with him, following him as he took the stairs up to the helipad.

‘What’s going on? Is this to do with Selene Antaxos?’ When Stefan looked at him, he shrugged. ‘The pictures are all over the internet. Why all the questions about bruises?’

His lawyer tone was several shades cooler than usual and Stefan shot him a look. ‘I don’t pretend to be perfect, but I don’t hurt women.’ Except that he had. Not with his hands, but with his actions. And by his actions he’d made it possible for someone else to hurt her physically. A cold feeling spread down his spine.

You have no idea what you’ve done.

Her final words still rang in his brain and alongside was a picture of Selene stuffing her new possessions randomly into her battered bag. He’d caught a glimpse of the nun’s habit and samples of her soap and candles. But it wasn’t the contents of her bag that stuck in his mind as much as the look on her face.

She was a woman who wore her emotions openly and over the past two days he’d witnessed her entire repertoire. He’d seen hope, mischief, flirtation, shyness, wonder, excitement and laughter. This morning he’d seen something new. Something he hadn’t understood until now.

He’d seen terror.

Suddenly his collar felt too tight and he called Takis, his head of security, and instructed him to meet him at the helicopter pad.

Kostas caught his arm. ‘I have no idea what you’re planning, but I advise caution where Stavros Antaxos is concerned.’

Stefan shrugged him off. ‘Your advice is duly noted and ignored.’

‘You have brought shame upon me and upon yourself and you did it with a man I hate more than any other.’

Selene stood stubbornly to the spot, clutching her bag like a life raft as her father vented his fury. She knew better than to answer back. Better than to try and reason because his anger was never driven by reason. And she was angry with herself, too. Angry for deviating from her original plan. If she hadn’t flown to the villa with Stefan she wouldn’t be in this position now.

‘Why him?’ Her father’s eyes blazed with every emotion but love. ‘Why?’

‘Because he’s a businessman.’ Because he’d talked to her when no one else had. Because he’d paid her attention and flattered her and her stupid brain had built him up into a hero so when he’d invited her to the party it had seemed all her dreams had come true. Instead of questioning what a man like him would see in a girl like her, she’d been blinded by his stunning looks and masculine charisma.

She’d lived in the moment without thinking about tomorrow and now tomorrow had come.

‘A businessman? And what is your “business”?’ The derision hurt more than any blow.

‘I have an idea. A good idea.’

‘Then why didn’t you come to me?’

‘Because—’ Because you’d kill it, the way you kill everything that threatens to break up our ‘family’. ‘Because I want to do this by myself.’

And she almost had.

It made her sick to think how close she’d come to a new life.

All of this could have been avoided had she simply shaken hands at the point where Stefan had agreed to give her a business loan, but she’d mixed business with pleasure and even she knew you weren’t supposed to do that.

‘He used you. You know that, don’t you? He used you to get to me and you have no one to blame but yourself. I hope you feel cheap.’

Selene closed her eyes, remembering the way she had felt. Not cheap. Special. Beautiful. But it hadn’t been real. He’d done it so that he could get juicy fodder for the photographers. All those things he’d said. All those things he’d done. It hadn’t been about her—it had been about scoring points against her father. He’d sacrificed her on the altar of personal ambition. ‘I made a mistake.’

‘We’ll say he forced you. Physically he’s much bigger than you, and you’re so obviously innocent no one will have any trouble believing it.’

‘No!’ Horrified, her eyes flew open. ‘That isn’t what happened.’

‘It doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is what people think happened. I don’t want our family image tarnished with this. I have my reputation to protect.’

Image. It was all about image, not reality. ‘He has his reputation, too. And he’ll deny it because it isn’t true.’ Just thinking of that story in the papers made her feel faint because simmering beneath the layers of pain that he’d deceived her was guilt that she’d let him think he was responsible for the bruises.

Her father’s expression was cold and calculating. ‘Who cares what’s true? Mud sticks. By the time he’s proved it wasn’t the case no one will remember your part in it, just his. People will always wonder. You’ll be the innocent girl he used.’

‘No.’ Selene lifted her chin. ‘I won’t do that to him. I won’t lie.’

There was a deadly silence. ‘Are you saying no to me?’

Her stomach cramped. ‘I can’t do that to him.’

She had money in her bag. If she could just calm the situation there might still be a way to get away. She’d persuade her mother to leave. They could slip away at night. She’d—

He stopped in front of her, too close, his hands clenched into fists that he was getting ready to use. ‘So if you liked being with him so much, why bother coming back?’

She knew better than to mention her mother. ‘I left because I wanted to have some fun. Freedom. Rebellion.’ She made free use of Stefan’s misconception. ‘I’ve been trapped here so long with no life and I wanted to get away. But I don’t actually want to leave my home. Or my family.’ She almost choked on the word because she knew that no family should be like hers. A family was supposed to be a unit knitted together by blood and love. All they had was blood, and too much of that had been shed.

‘So you admit you behaved badly?’ He flexed his fingers. ‘You admit you need discipline?’

The thought of the money in the bag gave her renewed strength. ‘I’m sorry my actions upset you.’

‘What’s in that bag?’

Her knees turned to water. ‘Clothes.’

He grabbed it. Wrenched it from her fingers so hard that he tore the skin.

Selene put her hand to her mouth and tasted blood. Inside that bag were her hopes for the future and she held her breath as he wrenched open the zip and dragged out the contents without care or respect, forcing her to watch as every one of her dreams was slaughtered in front of her.

First to fall was the red dress. That beautiful red dress she’d stuffed into her bag in a gesture of defiance against Stefan. She wished she’d left it. If ever she’d needed proof that hope was ephemeral she had it now as her father took that dress and wrenched it from neck to hem. She couldn’t even pretend that he didn’t know what it meant to her because he watched her face the whole time, and with every rip as she flinched a little more his mouth grew more grim. When the dress was nothing more than torn strips at her feet he kicked the pile of belongings and found her candles.

Selene didn’t realise she’d made a sound but she must have done because he glanced towards her swiftly, eyes narrowed, assessing the significance of what was in his hand.

‘This is it? This is your business idea? Did he laugh at you?’

‘No.’ Her lips felt numb. ‘He thought it was a good idea.’

‘Because he thought he could make a fool of me, not because your business venture has any merit. Is that it? Candles? I’m almost embarrassed a daughter of mine couldn’t have been more creative.’

He picked up the apparently empty bag and her heart stopped because she knew it wasn’t an empty bag and that if he looked there … if he found …

‘That’s it,’ she muttered. ‘There’s nothing else there.’ And of course by saying that she pronounced herself guilty.

He stared at her for a long moment and then took another look at the bag. With those fat, muscular hands that had turned her mother from vivacious to victim he patted it down and unzipped pockets. And she wished she’d worked harder to hide what was hidden there. Because he found it, of course, under the false bottom she’d created—the thick wedge of money tied with a thong because she hadn’t been able to think how else to keep so much cash together.

Her father untied the sexy thong and dropped it to the floor with revulsion. ‘You wore that and he paid you in cash?’

‘No. I mean …’ She floundered. ‘The cash was just an advance to—to—’

‘To pay for sex.’ He put the bag down slowly, his eyes glassy with rage. ‘You disgust me.’

‘I’ll leave. I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.’

‘Leave?’ His smile was ugly. ‘Oh, no. You don’t get to leave. You’re part of this family, Selene, and that isn’t going to change. This is where you belong and you’re lucky I’m prepared to have you back under my roof when you’ve been with him.’

‘I don’t—’

The blow was unexpected. Because she wasn’t prepared, the force of it banged her head against the wall and pain exploded through her skull.

Selene crumpled to the floor, tasting blood. She was so shocked she couldn’t move and she fought waves of sickness as his words pelted her like stones.

‘Your mother must have known about this.’

Your wife, Selene thought dizzily. She’s your wife. ‘She didn’t know. I didn’t tell her.’ Touching her mouth with the tips of her fingers, she realised she’d bitten her lip. She tried to stumble back to her feet but her legs wouldn’t hold her and she stayed on all fours like an animal, wishing she’d made different decisions, trying not to feel because feeling was agony.

‘When I’ve finished with you I’ll talk to her and she will tell me the truth.’

The implied threat brought her up onto her knees. ‘You stay away from her! You touch her again and I’ll—’ she swayed ‘—I’ll call the police.’

He laughed. ‘We both remember what happened the last time you did that.’

Numb, Selene stared at the floor, knowing it was hopeless.

They hadn’t believed her. Or if they’d believed her they’d refused to act. Her father was charming, powerful and able to buy his way out of trouble. At first her sense of justice had been shaken. She’d realised that she had no one until one night, lying in the darkness, she’d realised that she didn’t need anyone. Maybe no one else could solve this for her, but she could solve it for herself. Which made it doubly frustrating that she’d blown her chance.

He prowled around her and she knew from the look in his eyes that the moment he’d finished with her he would start on her mother.

Something sharp pressed into her hand and she looked down and saw that she’d fallen onto one of the jagged remnants of all that was left of a glass candle-holder.

She closed her hand over it, careful to avoid cutting herself on the sharp edge. And this time when her father came in swinging she closed her eyes and plunged the glass into his wrist. He gave a howl of pain and staggered backwards. It wasn’t enough to stop him but it was enough to slow him down and Selene didn’t waste a moment of her advantage. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled from the room, slamming the door behind her as she ran from the villa. He would chase her, of course, and that was what she wanted. Because if he chased her then he wouldn’t be going for her mother.

She just had to hope that his temper burned itself out before he killed them both.

Stefan manoeuvred the sleek speedboat as close to the rocks as he dared. He’d picked the north side of the island, judging the currents to be less savage. His yacht was moored further out to sea where the waters were deeper and he’d launched the tender and indulged himself in a few minutes of speed and spray as he’d skimmed the surface of the sparkling ocean towards the towering cliffs of Antaxos. But that spurt of adrenaline had been brief. Negotiating the rocky approach to the island had taken all his skill and concentration.

He let the engine idle as he assessed the distance between boat and rock, judging the rise and fall of the sea. Between both lay fathoms of swirling water, ready to swallow up victims, but Stefan had no intention of being anyone’s victim. Judging it perfectly he sprang, lithe as a panther, landing safely and gesturing for his team to take the boat back out.

Takis followed him. His movements were clumsier and Stefan shot out a hand to steady him as he veered dangerously close to the water.

‘Didn’t sign up for this. You could have picked a nice girl from the centre of Athens, boss,’ Takis muttered, his face scarlet as he found his balance. ‘But, no, you had to go for the pampered princess guarded by the dragon. Working for you is never boring.’

Pampered princess.

Stefan felt a stab of guilt. Hadn’t he made the same mistake?

Like everyone he’d been fooled by the image the tycoon had spun for the world. The adored wife. The much loved, overprotected daughter. The happy family.

He suspected the truth was much bleaker. Almost as bleak as this island.

Antaxos.

He stared at the narrow path that led up the cliffs to the grey, fortress-like building at the top.

As a child, he’d spent hours thinking about this place. Powerless, he’d conjured up images of the almost mythical island and imagined himself storming its rocky shores. Something had burned inside him and it burned still, confusing the past with the present.

He wasn’t powerless now. He’d made sure of it. From the day his father had brought him the sickening news, through choking tears he’d promised himself—promised her—that one day he was going to be a man of power. His quest for that had become the driving force in his life, and when he’d lost his father, too, his drive had simply increased.

A sound made him look up.

Four men dressed in black approached down the path. Bulky men, built like gorillas, whose sole purpose in life was to stop people getting close to their reclusive billionaire boss. If the rocks hadn’t killed you, these men probably would.

‘This is a private island. You are not allowed to land here.’

Stefan stood his ground, legs spread, using that power he’d sweated blood to gain. ‘You might want to rethink the warmth of your welcome.’