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“It was the home of Pierre Lisoura; perhaps you have heard of him?”
“The guy who owns the airline?”
“The very same.” He nodded. “He was in his sixties then, but he was not afraid of me. He could have taken me to the police and had me charged. I do not know why he chose not to.”
“What did he do instead?”
“He made me work for him. He told me he’d give me a job for as long as I went to school.”
“And Helena?”
“She was old enough for school by then, too. He helped me to enrol us, and he hired tutors to catch me up. Instead of giving me money, he rented a small flat for us, and made sure we had enough to eat. And after school, I would go to his house, and work until late at night.”
“What kind of things would you do for him?”
“Menial work initially. At the time, that is what I thought at least. But now I realise he was always teaching me. He allowed me to pour coffee while he had meetings; he asked me to type notes for him on top level negotiations. He noticed early on that I had a keen interest in finance and corporate acquisitions and he began to include me in more and more of this kind of work.”
“A perfect benefactor for a man such as you.”
“An angel sent from the heavens; for without him, I would probably be dead or in jail.”
A shiver ran down Sophie’s spine. “Was it horrible?”
“The streets? Not as awful as foster care,” he denied with a tight smile.
“You are still living proof that miracles happen. To have turned your life around like that … I’m in awe, frankly.”
Yes, he was proof that miracles happened. It was amazing that a street kid like him had climbed the corporate ranks to become almost sickeningly wealthy. “You never really shake it though.”
“What’s that?”
“The looking over your shoulder, waiting for something bad to happen.”
The searingly honest statement was news to him. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He would have said, until that moment, that he’d dumped the ghosts of his youth many moons ago. So why was he professing something different to this woman?
It occurred to him that she was one of the seirenes; the sirens, a mythical creature who existed purely to lure men upon the craggy rocks of the islands. She spoke, and it was as if she was singing a song only he heard; was it leading him to his own destruction, like the myths forewarned?
No! Alessandros could have laughed at the ludicrously indulgent pondering. She was no siren. She was a woman. A sexy, beautiful, undoubtedly self-interested woman. He studied her through narrowed eyes. Even her willingness to sleep with him showed her mercenary spirit. For though Eric was moderately wealthy and had aspirations to political power, he was nothing to Alessandros. That was not hubris nor vanity speaking. If Alex had any doubts as to his own power and success, he could not have borne it long in the face of the articles that had been run about him.
Gut instinct and self-confidence had done that. He would not let himself doubt those gifts now.
Helena worried that her husband was cheating, and now Alex knew for certain that he was. He would have put every penny he owned on a bet that something was going on between Sophie and Eric.
He smiled at her, but the pleasure was all for himself. Helena was going to be okay. Her marriage would survive this.
Because he would not allow Sophie to be a problem.
* * *
9 August, 11.08pm
From: Sophie
To: Ava, Olivia
Well, girls.
I’ve gone and done something really, drastically dense.
