Claiming My Hidden Son. Maya Blake
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The breath left my lungs in a rush. ‘Over my dead body will I go for Option A and hand over twenty-five percent of Xenakis Aeronautics,’ I replied coldly. ‘Not for the paltry quarter of a million his father bailed Grandpapa out with, while almost crippling him with steep interest repayments!’
The company I’d spent gruelling years saving was now worth several billion euros.
My brother shrugged. ‘Then it’s Option B. A full and final one hundred million euros, plus marriage to his daughter for minimum term of one year.’
A cold shudder tiptoed down my spine.
Marriage.
To a bride I didn’t want and with a connection to a family that had brought mine nothing but misery, pain and near destitution.
During the formative years of my life I witnessed how a fall from grace could turn family members against each other. Clawing my own family out of that quagmire while other factions sneered and expected me to fail had opened my eyes to the true nature of relationships.
Outwardly, the Xenakis were deemed a strong unit now, but the backbiting had never gone away. The barely veiled expectation that everything I’d achieved would be brought down like a pile of loose bricks and that history would repeat itself was a silent challenge I rose to each morning.
While my extended family now enjoyed the fruits of my labour, and even tripped over themselves to remain in my good graces, deep down I knew a simple misstep was all it would take for their frivolous loyalties to falter.
I didn’t even blame them.
How could I when my own personal interactions had repeatedly taken the same route? Each liaison I entered into eventually devolved into a disillusioning level of avarice and status-grabbing.
It was why my relationships now had a strict time limit of weeks. A few months, tops. Which made the thought of tying myself to one woman for twelve long months simply…unthinkable.
My chest tightened, and the urge to rail at my grandfather for putting me in this position seared me with shame before I suppressed it.
He’d been in an equally impossible position. I knew first-hand what the toll of keeping his family together had cost him—had watched deep grooves etch his grey face once vibrant with laughter and seen his shoulders slump under the heavy burden of loss.
Yes, he should have told me about this Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. But he was gone. Thanks to the ruthless greed of the Petras family. A family hell-bent on extracting another pound of flesh they didn’t deserve.
‘The hundred million I understand. But why insist on marriage to the daughter?’ I asked my brother as his words pierced the fog of my thoughts.
Neo shrugged again. ‘Who knows how men like Petras think? Maybe he just wants to offload her. The clout that comes from marrying into the Xenakis family isn’t without its benefits,’ he mused.
I shuddered, the reminder that, to most people, my family and I were nothing but meal tickets sending a shock of bitterness through me.
‘And did you meet this woman I’m to tie myself to?’
He nodded. ‘She’s…’ He stopped and smiled slyly. ‘I’ll let you judge for yourself.’ His gaze left mine to travel over my grey pinstriped suit. ‘But I’m thinking you two will hit it off.’
Before I could demand an explanation my father leaned forward. ‘Enough, Neo.’ My father’s gaze swung to me, steel reflected in his eyes. ‘We can’t delay any longer. Yiannis Petras wants an answer by morning.’
The pressure gripping my nape escalated—the effect of the noose closing round it ramping up my discord. Marriage was the last thing I wanted. To anyone. But especially to a Petras. Both my grandparents and my parents had been strained to breaking point because of the Petras family’s actions, with ill-health borne of worry taking my grandmother before her time too.
There had to be another way…
‘What’s her name?’ I asked my father—not because I cared but because I needed another moment to think. To wrap my head around this insanity.
‘Calypso Athena Petras. But I believe she responds to Callie.’
Beside me, Neo smirked again. ‘A dramatic name for a dramatic situation!’
I balled my fist and attempted to breathe through the churning in my gut. First they’d forced my grandfather’s business into the ground, until he’d broken his family right down the middle by working himself into an early grave. Now this…
‘Show me the agreement.’ I needed to see it for myself, find a way to assimilate what I’d been committed to.
My father slid the document across the desk. I read it, my fingers clenching as with each paragraph the noose tightened.
Twelve months of my life, starting from the exchange of vows, after which either party would be free to divorce.
Twelve months during which the Petras family who, by a quirk of karma—if you believe in that sort of thing—had fallen on even harder times than they’d condemned my family to would be free to capitalise fully on their new status of wealth and privilege by association.
My lips twisted. I intended to have my lawyers draft divorce papers before I went anywhere near a church.
I exhaled, knowing my subconscious had already accepted the situation.
‘Don’t overthink it, brother. You’re thirty-three next month. This will be over by your thirty-fourth birthday. If you bite the bullet,’ Neo offered helpfully.
Slowly, I dragged myself back under control. ‘I’ve worked too hard and too long to restore our family back to where it belongs to lose it to a greedy opportunist. If there’s no other way…tell Petras we have a deal.’
My father nodded, relieved, before he sent me another nervous glance. The kind that announced there was something more equally unsavoury to deliver.
‘What now?’ My patience was hanging by a thread.
‘Besides paying for the wedding, we also need to present the family with a…a dowry of sorts. Petras has asked for Kosima.’
I surged to my feet, uncaring that my chair tipped over. ‘Excuse me?’
My father’s face tightened. ‘No one has stepped foot on the island since your grandfather passed—’
‘That doesn’t mean I want to hand it over to the son of the man who caused his death!’
A flash of pain dimmed his eyes. ‘We don’t know that to be strictly true.’
‘Don’t we? Did you not see for yourself the pressure he was under? He only started drinking after the problems with Petras started. Is it any wonder his heart failed?’
‘Easy, brother,’ Neo urged. ‘Father is right. The house is rotting