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“It was hell. He broke his engagement to the Kokinos girl and then he proposed to his mistress right after. The media went crazy with that and when the footage was aired, the reporters started wondering what Mr. Manolis was doing there.”
“What was he doing there?”
“The idiots think Stavros is Ms. Leventis’ lover.” His loud snort was enough to express his opinion. “They’re sniffing in the wrong direction, and that’s exactly how Mr. Leventis wants it.”
Chucky could no longer keep up. “Mr. Artini, I’m more confused now – could you tell it to me straight? Why are these two billionaires having a secret meeting in the middle of the night?”
Mr. Artini looked at him in exasperation. “Why else, Chucky doll? Throughout history, why do two men, friends or foes, have a need to settle their differences? What can two men never compromise on?” He jerked his head towards the stadium, which from where they were standing, appeared like a golden arena for gladiators, its lights blazing brightly amidst the night’s darkness.
“They want the same woman and neither of them wants to give up.”
DAMEN LEVENTIS WAITED wordlessly for Stavros to climb the last few flights of stairs leading to the topmost row of seats in the stadium. Made entirely of white marble, the stadium was the only one of its kind. It was also historic for being the place where individuals battled for personal glory and honor in the world’s first modern Olympics.
That fact appeared uppermost in Stavros’ mind when, upon reaching Damen’s side, he remarked blandly, “Should I have brought my fencing sword, Damen?”
A mirthless smile slashed Damen’s lips. “If that is your roundabout way of asking if I am giving up Mairi to you, then yes, you should have. But a fistfight would also do anytime.”
Both men’s faces were impassive as they considered each other’s words.
“I respect your claim to her,” Stavros said finally, “but I need to speak to her. Surely that is not asking much?”
An ironic laugh almost escaped Damen. Not much? It was obvious Stavros had never been in love. Perhaps he thought he had been with Mairi – a fact that bothered him immensely – but no, it had not been love. If it had been, then Stavros should know that anything that involved his woman and another man was too much.
If Stavros had been in love with Mairi, then surely he would know and understand the driving need inside him to keep Mairi under lock and key and prevent any other man from seeing her. She was the most beautiful girl to him. In his mind, it was always only a matter of time before a man in her company would fall in love with her.
Mairi Tanner, with her hopelessly optimistic ways, had made him – Damen Leventis, the man who supposedly did not feel – believe in love. What more the men who already knew the joy of giving one’s heart to another?
“She is still stressed by what happened.” It was a lie, of course. Stress didn’t seem to be a word that existed in Mairi’s vocabulary. Many times, Damen marveled at how happy she seemed, just because she was with him. It was a humbling thought, and one that made him even more possessive of her.
Stavros nodded curtly. “I understand. But I do intend to speak to her soon. I have searched for her for a very long time, Damen. I treasure our friendship, but I will not let it stand in my way.”
Damen inclined his head in acknowledgment of his friend’s words. “Just know,” he said softly, “that I feel the same way. You have been a good friend to me all these years as well, Stavros. But it is Mairi who is most important to me.”
They did not speak after, simply nodding at each other in understanding. To anyone else, they would have appeared almost like twins, both of them bearing a strong resemblance to the gods their ancestors worshipped. Whereas most men used fancy clothes and expensive haircuts to emphasize their superiority, both men were dressed in conservative dark suits, the kind that the expert eye would recognize as hand-sewn creations that cost more than an average person’s annual wages.
Power clung to their hard strong bodies like second skin, and for those who knew the story unfolding between the two Greek billionaires, the realization that both men – out of the millions of women who would do anything to have their attention – wanted the same girl and a rather ordinary one at that, well – it was the stuff that dreams were made of.
IT WAS SIX IN THE MORNING when Damen got back to his home and he went straight to his bedroom, where Mairi slept peacefully, dressed only in his shirt and panties. It made his heart ache. She had once told him that she had a hard time sleeping when he wasn’t around and to comfort herself, she would wear his shirt just to have his scent close to her.
