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"Yes, you’re right. Even though the chances of her using her real name are slim, I’ll investigate the twelve 'Enyas' I found. It’s a start."

"And what about the matter of my biological mother? Any updates?"

"Nothing yet. I’m sorry. It feels like I’ve hit a concrete wall. Whoever did this covered their tracks well."

After hanging up, I try to deal with the frustration his response brings, as I’ve done many times before. But I refuse to accept that there won’t be justice for her. I will never stop trying to avenge her.

I refocus on Brooklyn because if I allow myself to dive back into my obsession with punishing those responsible for my mother’s destruction, the hatred will paralyze me.

So instead, I focus on the present. I need to ensure, for my own peace of mind, that Brooklyn remains safe.

I pick up my phone and call Zeus.

"Athanasios."

"I’m taking the lead on Brooklyn’s and the kids’ security."

"No. She’s part of my family. I take care of what’s mine."

"She’s just your sister-in-law."

"She doesn’t belong to you."

"Not yet, but she will."

At that moment, I finally accept that I don’t want another candidate.

I feel something for her that goes far beyond what any other woman has ever made me feel: a crazy desire, but also the need to protect her.

From my perspective, considering who I am—a self-centered man—it seems like a good start.

Athanasios

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

That Night

"How many childrendo you plan to have, Febe?" I hear my adoptive mother, Medeia Pappakouris, ask.

For the first time since dinner began, I pay attention to something other than the food.

Honestly, I don’t know why my parents invited her. After years of trying to bring us closer, they should’ve realized there’s no chance of that happening.

"Are you getting married?" I ask the doctor, thinking that maybe I’ll finally stop hearing her sigh every time we meet at the hospital.

"I . . . uh . . . no. I think it was just a general question, wasn’t it, Medeia?"

"Of course, darling. It’s just that I was thinking, being so beautiful, your descendants would certainly leave nothing to be desired."

"Jesus Christ!" L.J. exclaims, stifling a laugh with his napkin, while William chokes on his glass of water.

"I think that before Febe considers something like that, she’d need a fiancé first, Mom."

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Pappakouris," L.J. says as he stands up. "Athanasios, could you come with me for a moment? There’s something I need to tell you.

"I’m not done eating."

"It’s urgent," he insists, and I get up.