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“No, on top of what you make at Key Largo,” I clarify. “I’ll pay you tonottake shifts at Sanctum, sweetheart, because I can’t stand the thought of another man enjoying your curves.”
Petunia bites her lip and sends me a delighted look.
“Possessive much?”
I growl, wrapping my brawny arms around her narrow waist.
“Possessive alot,” I rasp into her ear. “This belongs to me, sweetheart, and no one else gets to touch it. Look, yes. But touch and fuck? No, absolutely not.”
She giggles before cooing.
“Don’t worry, no man will touch me while I’m with you, Mr. Matthews. But how didyouend up joining Sanctum, if I may ask?”
I shrug. “When you’re a rich guy, these things have a way of finding you. The word on the grapevine is that Sanctum is the place to be, and one day, I got a call and that was that.”
She nods.
“No background check? No interview?”
I wave a hand.
“No, I went through all that, but it was no big deal. There’s only limited amounts you can find out about me, anyways. Billionaires have their ways,” I say in an oblique tone.
She hums in response, but doesn’t ask, and for that I’m glad. After all, a regular background check isn’t going to unearth everything and anything about me. There are special measures that I’ve taken to retain my privacy, and as a result, my past is somewhat obscured.
But then, Petunia turns to me with another bright smile.
“So you said Key Largo was founded by your great-grandad, right? Were you close with him?”
I shake my head.
“No, because he died before I was born. But honey, I should clarify that I’m Greek-American, meaning I’m originally of Greek origin, but my dad moved our family to New York when I was a child. Yannis was never super-interested in the shipping business, so he wanted to leave Athens. As a result, I grew up right here in Queens. In Astoria, to be precise.”
Petunia gasps.
“OMG, I should have guessed because Astoria has a big Greek population, right?”
I chuckle.
“It depends on what you mean by ‘big,’ because we’re not the equivalent of Chinatown or anything like that. But yes, Astoria has significant Greek heritage, and I actually went to a Greek school there. I didn’t learn English until pretty late.”
Petunia looks stupefied.
“It wasn’t a bilingual school?”
I shake my head.
“Nope. Greek folks are extremely adamant about their kids learning the old language, so for the first couple years of elementary school, teachers speak exclusively in Greek. Only when I got to fourth grade did the curriculum become bilingual.”
Petunia nods.
“Yes, I know what you mean because like I mentioned, my adoptive father, Andreas, is Greek from Greece and he’s incredibly proud of his heritage.”
I shoot Petunia a curious look.
“Did your dad speak to you in Greek?”
She smiles ruefully.
