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“I did it. That’s all you need to worry about.”
“I think I’ll fly out today to let those fucking board of directors know they don’t have any choices except us on the table.”
I frown, because if he’s leaving my excuse for staying here is gone. Helena just got back yesterday, and it was late, so I barely got a glance of her face. I came here because I wanted to see her. She’s eighteen now. I want time to get to know her—time where I’m not looking over my shoulder because I’m worried my father will figure out, I have another weakness for him to exploit.
“What about Christopher? Can’t you send your son?” I ask. I don’t understand the relationship George has with his son. My brothers and I spend our lives covering everything and doing whatever our father demands. I don’t think I’ve seen George’s son but once in all this time.
George shakes his head. “I have worthless children. Unlike your father, his boys work hard. They understand you have to fight to stay on top. That’s why I’m damn glad you’re being brought into my family, son. I may have weak children, but together you and I will make the Kratos name and the Stratakis name synonymous with power, my boy.”
“Helena isn’t worthless,” I point out. I can’t speak for his son, because I don’t know him, but his daughter has spirit and a vitality for life that I envy.
“She’s a girl,” George says with the wave of a hand. “They have their uses, but keeping one around permanently isn’t worth it. The only good Sasha had was giving me an heir, but her blood was weak and sadly my children inherited traits from her, I’d rather they didn’t.” The man shrugs. “Still, Helena knows her place. She will make you a good wife. You will just need to keep a firm hand.”
I blink. Christ. Maybe my old man and George have more in common than I suspected. I open my mouth to speak. I’m not sure what I’d say, I just know Helena needed someone to stand up for her in that moment and even though she’s way too fucking young, she’s mine and it was going to be me to say it. I don’t get the chance, however, because there’s a knock at the door.
“I’m sorry Mr. Kratos. We have a problem.”
“Problem?” he barks at one of his bodyguards.
“Your daughter is sick. The fever from yesterday is still there and she’s been vomiting.”
“Kids. Jesus, I have shit to do. Take her to the clinic and get her some medicine. Have Cecilia deal with her.”
“Cecilia?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Helena’s nanny,” George explains.
“Isn’t she a little old for a nanny?” Fuck, my fiancée has a damn nanny? I already felt old and like a dirty bastard for being engaged to someone when she was sixteen. It has been two years and our age difference still troubles me. I’m slowly coming to terms with it. This is making me think I should just let it go.
“I kept her on because she’s a damn good cook and she can deal with Helena. That’s not a man’s job.”
His words irritate the hell out of me. This is his daughter. She doesn’t have a mother. That means anything to do with her care—especially when she’s sick should be his job. Still, I bite my tongue. Fucking hell, it seems like I spend my life biting my tongue. I marry Helena, I’ll be moving into my own home and I’m taking Melina with me. Then, this shit will be done. I will move swiftly to destroy everything my father has. I would have done it already, but between the men that work for him and two of my own brothers going against me, I’m hoarding money and preparing quietly. I can’t get my ass killed until Melina is in the clear. Hell, it seems I need to add Helena to that list since it’s clear her father doesn’t know her value.
“Cecilia is on vacation this week, Mr. Kratos.”
“Call and tell her to get back. I’m going to be flying out for a meeting shortly and will be gone for a couple days.”
“Her mother died, Mr. Kratos. The funeral is tomorrow. I don’t think she can return until that is over,” the guard explains nervously.
“Tell her to return immediately after then,” George says with an annoyed wave of his hand. “Helena will be fine. She’s probably not even sick. The girl is always demanding attention.”
“Perhaps it would be good to check on her,” I suggest, my voice tight.
“No time! I’m going to go deliver the news and watch the bastards squirm.”
“I’ll check on her before I leave,” I tell him, tightening my hand up into a fist and barely containing the urge to nail the bastard.
