Kitabı oku: «Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks», sayfa 8

She stopped, staring up at him.

“Then why?” she whispered.

“I couldn’t stand to see you treated badly,” Darius said huskily, “when all you’ve done is give your love and loyalty to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

She bit her lip. “I know my father isn’t perfect—”

“Perfect?” His jaw tightened. “He’s a criminal—” He cut himself off, then said, “You’re under my protection now.”

She looked troubled. “Your protection—or your rule?”

“It is the same. I protect what is mine.”

“Our baby.”

His eyes met hers. “And you.”

Letty stared at him, her eyes wide, as if she had no idea how to react. As if she had forgotten what it was like to have anyone properly look after her.

He wondered how long it had been since anyone had tried to take care of her, rather than the other way around. He suspected Letty always sacrificed herself to take care of others—especially that father of hers—while her own heart bled.

“But I’m not yours,” she said quietly. “Not truly. We got pregnant by accident. I didn’t think you were serious about marriage.”

“I am.”

“That commitment is serious, Darius. It means…forever.”

“I know,” he said.

She swallowed, searching his gaze. “I was sure after tonight you’d never want to see me again.”

Taking her hand, he lifted it slowly to his lips. She seemed to hold her breath, watching as he kissed the back of her hand, breathing against her skin. Straightening, he held her hand tightly in his own. “I want to see you tomorrow, and every other tomorrow for the rest of our lives.”

“Darius…”

“You will marry me, Letty,” he said in a low voice. “You know it, and I know it. In your heart, you were always meant to be mine.”

Marry him? For real?

How could she?

Even if Darius no longer hated her, he certainly didn’t love her. And she was starting to fear she could love him again. Perhaps all too easily.

What hope could they have of happiness?

He’d never love her back. All he wished to do was possess her. He offered sex and money, and in return, he’d expect sex and total devotion. For her, those things went together. He wouldn’t have just her body, but her soul.

So why was she still so tempted?

She shivered, caught between fear and desire.

“Are you cold?” he asked huskily, his eyes dark.

“No, I… I…” Hugging her baby bump, she gasped, “I need some fresh air.”

He smiled. “Come with me.”

Still holding her hand, he led her through the moon-bathed penthouse, and she thought dimly how she was getting in the habit of following where he led. But with his hand enveloping hers so protectively, she didn’t want to do anything else.

She still couldn’t believe what he’d done, announcing their engagement, defending her in front of all those people—and then telling the world he intended to pay billions of dollars of his own money to repay what her father had stolen.

She’d been dazed. Then she’d danced with him, the same routine he’d helped her learn so long ago, and she’d been back in that spring meadow, practicing the waltz not for the pimply-faced Harvard boy, who was the nephew of her father’s lawyer, but for Darius, always for him, only for him. As they’d danced in the ballroom, she’d felt time melt away.

Darius was right. She was his. From the very beginning, Darius Kyrillos had been the only man she’d ever wanted. The only man she’d ever loved.

I don’t love him anymore, she told herself desperately. She wouldn’t let him buy her!

Darius led her up an elaborate staircase, then pushed open a glass door that led out onto a private rooftop garden.

Letty gasped at the beauty of the ivy-covered pergola decorated with fairy lights near a lit lap pool gleaming bright blue in the warm September night.

Above them, distant stars sparkled like diamonds across a dark velvety sky. Past the glass walls of the terrace, the night skyline of Manhattan glittered.

She kept her distance from the edge, afraid to go too close. But Darius went right to it. He leaned against the short glass wall, totally unfazed and unafraid of plummeting seventy floors to his death. He looked out at the city.

Letty crept closer, her heart pounding. “This terrace is amazing.”

“All the flowers remind me of home,” he said simply. She wondered if he meant Greece or Fairholme, but didn’t have the nerve to ask. She slowly turned her head, marveling at the lavish beauty of a rooftop garden that treated all of Manhattan as nothing but a backdrop.

“You’re king of the mountain now,” she said softly. “Looking down on a valley of skyscrapers.”

Turning to her, he came forward. Then he abruptly fell to one knee in front of her astonished eyes.

Reaching into his tuxedo jacket pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet box.

“Rule it with me, Letty,” he said quietly. “As my wife.”

Shivering, she put her hand on her heart. “I already said…”

“You said yes when you thought I’d back out. This is a real proposal. I expect a real answer.” He held up the black velvet box. “Letty Spencer, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

He opened the lid. Inside the black velvet box was an enormous pear-shaped diamond set in platinum. It was the hugest, most outrageous ring she’d ever seen.

But that wasn’t what made her lose her breath.

It was Darius’s face. His dark, yearning eyes. As he looked at her in the moonlight, she saw the man who’d just bruised her with the intensity of his kisses. Who’d just defied all of Manhattan and paid five billion dollars for her. The man whose child she carried.

In his eyes, she saw the shadow of the younger man she’d once loved, strong and kind, with such a good heart. The one who’d loved her so fervently. They were the same.

Letty’s heart skipped a beat.

It’s an illusion, she told herself desperately. He’s not the same. But as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the diamond engagement ring, it sparkled like the stars. Like the lights of this powerful city.

Like the smolder in Darius’s dark eyes.

“It would destroy us,” she said shakily, but what she really meant was it would destroy me.

Darius slowly rose in front of her, until his tall, powerful body towered over hers. Waves of blue light from the pool reflected against him as the warm wind moved across the water. Putting his hand on her cheek, he lowered his head.

“Say yes,” he whispered. “Say you’ll be mine.”

His kiss was tender at first. She felt the rough warmth of his lips, the gentle hold of his arms.

Then his grip tightened. His embrace became hungry, filled with need. Spirals of heat twisted through her body, and she gripped his shoulders. Until he pulled away.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Yes,” she choked out.

A flash of triumph crossed his starkly handsome face. “You will?”

She nodded, tears in her eyes.

“There will be no going back,” he warned.

“I know.” She tried to ignore the thrill that crept into her heart. Excitement? Terror?

Right or wrong, disaster or not, there was nothing to be done. What he’d said was true. She’d always been his. In many ways, this decision had been made for her long ago.

He slid the diamond ring over the third finger of her left hand. It fit perfectly. She looked down at it, sparkling in the moonlight. “How did you know my ring size?”

“It’s the same ring.”

She frowned. “What?”

“It’s the same I bought for you ten years ago.” His voice was low. “I had it set with a different stone.”

The thought that he’d kept their original ring all these years made her heart ache. Whatever he might say, didn’t that mean he might still care for her, at least a little?

Could love, once lost, ever be regained?

Looking at him with tears in her eyes, she breathed, “Darius…”

“You’re mine now, Letty,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. “You belong to me. Forever.”

Then he kissed her lips as if those, too, were his possession.

Sparks of pleasure went up and down Letty’s body, coiling low and deep inside her, and she felt his hands running down her bare arms, her sides, cupping her breasts over the pink dress.

She fell back against the ivy-covered stone wall. Above them, fairy lights swayed gently in the warm wind, the skyscrapers of Manhattan illuminating the moonlit sky.

Letty’s eyes closed as he kissed his way down her throat. She felt breathless, like she was lost in a dream.

He kissed over the diamond necklace to her bare clavicle and the valley between her full breasts, half revealed above the low-cut bodice of her gown.

Picking her up, he carried her past the sweeping ivy into a half-enclosed room protected on two sides by walls, with a rustic chandelier hanging over a long table. Two leather sofas were arranged around a fireplace and well-stocked bar.

He flicked a switch, and the gas fire lit up. She saw Darius’s face clearly in the flickering firelight as they faced each other silently. The soft wind blew against her hair, her skin.

Slowly, Darius removed his tuxedo jacket and dropped it to the flagstone floor. Coming closer, he unzipped her pink dress. She felt the brush of his fingertips, then the warm night air against her bare skin as her gown dropped to the floor beside his jacket. She stepped out of the fabric, wearing only the diamonds, a lace bra, panties and the wicked pink crystal stiletto heels.

He stepped back, looking at her.

“Incredible,” he breathed in deep masculine appreciation, and she realized that, just as he’d promised, he was seeing her in the lingerie. She scowled.

“Do you always get what you want?” she said accusingly.

“I do,” he said, caressing her cheek. “And now, so will you.”

She licked her lips and felt a thrill of delight as his expression changed to raw desire. Reaching up, she saucily loosened his tuxedo tie, before tugging on it, drawing him closer for a kiss.

It was the first time she’d ever made the first move, and he growled fierce approval. Holding her tight, he kissed her back hungrily.

His hands caressed her naked skin, her arms, her shoulders, the small of her back. And suddenly she couldn’t remove his clothes fast enough. His tie, cuff links, shirt. They all dropped to the floor.

His tanned body, laced with dark hair, looked like sculpted marble in the flickering firelight, all hard muscles and taut belly. She brushed her hand lightly against his chest. His skin felt like silk over steel. Biting her lip, she lifted her eyes to his.

“If I’m yours, Darius,” she whispered, standing in front of him in the half-enclosed room, “you’re mine.”

Brushing back long dark tendrils of her hair, he pulled her roughly into his arms. His hard-muscled chest moved against her full, aching breasts and pregnant belly. The soft wind whispered against her bare skin as he unhooked her silk lace bra, and her breasts sprang free. He looked down at her body and gave a quick breath.

Pressing her breasts together, he cupped their weight in his hands before he lowered his head to suckle one pink, full nipple, then the other.

Shuddering with pleasure, she closed her eyes.

His hands stroked gently, reverently, down her body to her naked belly to her hips, still covered with the tiny silk panties.

Running his hand down her legs, he knelt before her and pulled off one stiletto, then the other, as she balanced against him, her hands gripping his shoulders. She remained standing—barely—as he caressed upward from her manicured toes, to the tender hollows of her knees, and higher still. She swallowed, holding her breath as he stroked up her thighs.

She closed her eyes, heart pounding as he pulled her panties down her legs. She couldn’t move fast enough. He impatiently ripped them off in his powerful hands, tossing the flimsy silk aside.

“Those were expensive—” she protested.

He looked up, and the edges of his cruel, sensual mouth curved upward. “They served their purpose.”

An icy fear suddenly crept through her heart as Letty wondered if she, too, might someday have served her purpose. If he might someday rip her apart, then discard her.

Then all her rational thought fled as, still on his knees, he gripped her hips and moved between her legs.

She felt the warmth of his breath on the most sensitive, intimate part of her body, as she stood naked with the warm night breeze swirling against her skin, as one of New York’s most famous billionaires knelt before her in the firelight, beneath the ivy walls of a rooftop garden.

Holding her tight, he lowered his mouth between her thighs and tasted her with a soft moan. He licked her as if she were a melting ice cream cone in his favorite flavor, creamy and sweet. As she gasped, his rhythm intensified, until he worked her with his tongue, sliding sensuously against her. Pleasure exploded through her body almost immediately, and he gripped her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth as her body twisted with the sudden intensity of pleasure that left her knees weak and sent spasms all over her body.

She was still dizzy in the heights of pleasure as he rose to his feet and drew her toward the sofa. He lay down first, stretching out naked against the black leather, hard and ready for her. She took a step, then hesitated, biting her lip.

“What is it?”

She tried not to look at how huge he was, his hard shaft jutting arrogantly from his body. She blushed, feeling shy. “Um, what do I do?”

He gave a low, lazy laugh, then pulled her over him.

“I’ll show you,” he said huskily.

He spread her across him on the sofa, her thighs over his hips, his arousal pressing low against her pregnant belly. He reached up, cupping her cheek. As he drew her down for a kiss, her long dark hair fell like a veil against his skin.

The kiss was tender at first. She relaxed into it with a sigh, her body curving over his as his hands roamed gently over her back, her arms, her belly, her breasts. Then his kiss deepened, turning urgent and fierce. Placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, positioning himself beneath her.

He slowly lowered her down on him, filling her, inch by delicious inch, in tantalizing slow motion.

She gasped as she felt him inside her, going deep, then deeper still. Her whole body started to tighten, more savagely than it had before.

Lifting her hips, he lowered her again, showing her the rhythm, until her body started to move of its own accord. Closing her eyes with fervent intensity, she rode him, slowly at first, then faster. The pleasure built and built…

Her lips parted in a silent cry as joy burst like fireworks shaking through her body. She heard his low gasp as he, too, exploded, pouring inside her.

She collapsed, falling softly against him on the black leather sofa.

For long moments, he held her tenderly, as if her weight were nothing. Their bodies were still fused, slick with sweat, as he leaned up to kiss her. He felt so solid and strong beneath her. Like a foundation that could never be shaken.

She shivered in his arms. In the half-enclosed outdoor room, the September night was growing cool. But that wasn’t the reason.

The idea of being Darius’s wife had seemed like a recipe for disaster, if not outright doom. And so it would be, if she were tempted into giving him her heart, while in return, he gave her only money.

Letty looked down at the heavy diamond ring, now shining dully on her left hand.

If only Darius could again be the young man she remembered, with the kind nature and forgiving heart. She would willingly give him everything. Not just her body, not just her name, but her heart.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HE WAS A GENIUS, Darius thought as he woke in his bed the next morning with sunlight flooding in through the windows. He looked down at Letty sleeping beside him and smiled. A damn genius. Best five billion dollars ever spent.

And he would spend the rest of his life being thrilled, if it continued paying off like it did last night. The sex had been spectacular. And even more. Something had changed in the way Letty looked at him. He loved the mixture of gratitude and shy hope he saw in her eyes.

He kissed Letty’s temple tenderly. She yawned, stretching like a cat.

“What time is it?” she murmured, her eyes still closed.

“Late,” he said, amused. “Almost noon.”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh, no! I’m late for—” Then she seemed to remember how much had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and that being late for work was no longer an issue. “Oh. Right.” She bit her lip, blushing and looking so adorable that he was tempted to keep her in bed another hour.

It was incredible how much he still wanted her, when they’d made love four times last night—on the rooftop terrace, here in bed, and in the shower when they decided to wash off. Only to promptly get all sweaty again when they returned to bed.

Letty was meant to be his, Darius marveled. He’d never felt so sexually satisfied in his life.

And yet already he wanted more. How was it possible?

He smiled down at her. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she admitted. “And thirsty.”

“I can solve that.” Rising from the bed, he got a white terry cloth robe and handed her one, too. “Come out to the kitchen.”

She gave a sudden scowl, and even that was adorable. “You didn’t tell me you had staff staying at the penthouse. What if they heard us last night? What if they—”

“There are no live-in staff. I have a housekeeper who comes in four times a week, that’s it.”

She blinked in confusion. “Then who’s going to cook?”

“I’m not totally useless.”

She looked at him with unflattering shock in her eyes. “You can’t cook, Darius.”

“No?” His smile widened to a grin. “Come see.”

She ate her words shortly afterward, sitting in the brightly lit kitchen at the counter, as he served her an omelet to order with tomatoes, bacon and five kinds of cheese, along with orange juice over ice. When she took the first bite of the omelet, her eyes went wide.

“Good, huh?” he said smugly, sitting beside her with his own enormous omelet of ham and cheese, drenched in salsa. Being a sexual hero all night definitely had built his appetite.

And hers, as well. If he felt like a hero, Letty was a sex goddess, he thought. Even now, he felt aware of her, just sitting companionably beside her at the counter with its dazzling view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. But he wasn’t looking at the view. He was watching her.

“Delicious,” she moaned softly as she gobbled it down, bite after bite. “We should serve omelets at our wedding.”

He gave a low laugh. “I appreciate the compliment, but I don’t see myself whipping up omelets for a thousand.”

She froze. “A thousand? Guests?”

Gulping black coffee, he shrugged. “Our wedding will be the social event of the year, as you deserve. All of New York society will come and grovel at your feet.”

She didn’t look thrilled. She took another bite of omelet. “That’s not what I want.”

“No?” he said lazily, tucking back a tendril of her dark hair. His eyes traced the creamy skin of her neck, down to the smooth temptation of her clavicle and swell of her breasts above the luxurious white cotton robe. He glanced down to her belt, tied loosely between her breasts and pregnant belly. He had the sudden impulse to sweep all the dishes to the floor, tug open her robe and lean her back naked against the counter.

“A wedding should be a happy occasion.” She shook her head. “Those society people aren’t my friends. They never really were. Why would I invite them?”

“To rub your new status in their faces? I thought you’d glory in your return to status as the queen of it all.”

“Me?” Letty snorted. “I was never queen of anything. As a teenager I never knew the right clothes to wear or understood how to play the society game. I was a total nerd.”

He frowned. “I never saw you that way. I just assumed…”

“That I was a spoiled princess?” She gave him a funny smile. “I was spoiled, though not the way you mean. I always knew I was loved.” Her face was wistful. “My parents loved each other and they loved me.”

Revenge wasn’t Letty’s style, Darius realized. She never showed off or tried to make others feel bad. Even when she was younger, she’d always been most comfortable reading the dusty leather-bound books in Fairholme’s oak-paneled library, baking cakes with the cook in the kitchen or playing with the gardener’s kittens in the yard. Letty never wanted to be the center of attention. She was always more worried about other people’s feelings than her own.

In this respect, Darius thought, the two of them were very different.

“And I had a real home,” she whispered.

Memories of that beautiful gray stone manor on the edge of the sea, surrounded by roses, came to his mind. He said gruffly, “You still miss Fairholme after all this time?”

She gave him a sad smile. “I know it’s gone for good. But I still dream about it. My mother was born there. Four generations of my family.”

“What happened to it?”

She looked down at her plate. “A tech billionaire bought it at a cut-rate price. I heard he changed everything, added zebra-print shag carpeting and neon lights, and turned the nursery into his own private disco. Of course that was his right. But he wouldn’t let me take a picture of my great-grandmother’s fresco before he destroyed it with his sandblaster.”

A low growl came from Darius’s throat. He remembered the nursery fresco, a charming monstrosity picturing a sad-eyed little goose girl leading ducks and geese through what looked like a Bavarian village. Not his cup of tea, but it was part of the house’s history. “I’m sorry.”

She looked up with a bright, fake smile. “It’s fine. Of course it couldn’t last. Good things never do.”

“Neither do bad things,” he said quietly. “Nothing lasts, good or bad.”

“I guess you’re right.” She wrapped her arms around her pregnant belly. “But I don’t want a big society wedding, Darius. I think I’d just like you and me, and our closest family and friends. I don’t need ten bridesmaids. I just want one.”

“An old friend?”

She smiled. “A new one. Belle Langtry. A waitress at the diner. How about you? Who would you choose as your best man?”

“Ángel Velazquez.”

“Ángel?”

“It’s a nickname. His real first name is Santiago, but he hates it, because he was named after a man who refused to recognize him as his son.”

“How awful!”

Darius shrugged. “I call him by his last name. Velazquez hates weddings. He recently had to be the best man for a friend of ours, Kassius Black. He complained for months. All that tender love gave him a headache, he said.”

Letty was looking at him in dismay. “And you want him at our wedding?”

“He needs a little torture. When you meet him you’ll see what I mean. Completely arrogant, always sure he’s right.”

“Hard to imagine,” she said drily.

“So Velazquez. And my extended family.”

Her eyes brightened. “Your family?”

“My great-aunt, Theia Ioanna, who lives in Athens. Assorted uncles, aunts and cousins, and the rest of my village on Heraklios, the island I’m from.”

“Could we bring them all over from Greece? And of course we’ll have my father…”

Darius stiffened. “No.”

“No?” She frowned. “We could get married on Heraklios, if they can’t travel. I’ve always wanted to visit the Greek islands…”

“I mean your father. He’s not invited.”

“Of course he’s invited. He’s my father. He’ll walk me down the aisle. I know you don’t like him, but he’s my only family.”

“Letty, I thought you understood.” His jaw was taut, his voice low and cold. “I don’t want you, or our baby, within ten feet of that man ever again.”

“What?”

“It’s not negotiable.” Swiveling to face her at the counter, Darius gripped her shoulder. “I will pay back everything he stole. But this is the price.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You will cut your father completely and permanently out of our lives.”

She drew back. “But he’s my father. I love him—”

“He lost the right to your loyalty long ago. Do you think I want a con artist, a thief, around my wife…my child…my home?” He looked at her in tightly controlled fury. “No.”

“He never meant to hurt anyone,” she tried. “He always hoped the stock market would turn and he’d be able to pay everyone back. He just lost his way after my mom died. And he hasn’t been well since he got out of prison. If you just knew what he’s been through…”

“Excuses on top of excuses! You expect me to feel sympathy?” he said incredulously. “Because he was sick? Because he lost his wife? Because of him, you and I were separated. Because of him, my own father never had the chance to grow old! After he’d worked for him with utter devotion for almost twenty-five years. And that’s how your father repaid him!”

“Darius, please.”

“You expect me to allow that man to walk you down the aisle? To hold my firstborn child in his arms? No.” He set his jaw. “He’s a monster. He has no conscience, no soul.”

“You don’t know him like I do…”

Remembering her weakness where her father was concerned, her senseless loyalty at any cost, Darius abruptly changed tack. “If you truly love him, you will do as I ask. It will benefit him, as well.”

“How can you say that?”

“Once I’ve paid all his debts, he’ll never need to be afraid of someone breaking his arm again. He’ll be treated better by his probation officers. By potential employers.”

“He can’t work. No one would hire him. He would starve in the street.”

Revulsion churned in Darius’s belly, but he forced himself to say, “I will make sure that does not happen. He can remain in your Brooklyn apartment and his rent will be paid. He will always have food and any other necessities he might require. But he must face the consequences of what he’s done. He’s taken enough from you, Letty. Your future is with me.”

Pushing away the breakfast plates, he stood up from the kitchen counter and went to her handbag on the entryway table. Pulling out her phone, he held it out to her.

“Call him,” he said quietly. “See what he tells you to do.”

Sitting at the counter in her white robe, Letty stared at the phone with big, stricken eyes, as if it were poison. She snatched it up, and with an intake of breath, dialed and held it up to her ear.

“Hi, Dad.” She paused, then said unhappily, “Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for worrying. I should have… Ooh? You saw that?” She looked up and said to Darius, “Your announcement about repaying the five billion is already all over the news. Our engagement, too. Dad is thrilled.”

“Of course,” he said acidly.

“What?” She turned her focus back to her father. “Oh, yes,” she whispered, looking up at Darius with troubled eyes. “We’re very happy.” She bit her lip. “But, Dad, there’s this one thing. It’s a big thing. A big horrible thing—” her voice broke a little “—and I hardly know how to say it…” She took a deep breath. “I won’t be able to see you anymore. Or let you see the baby.”

Darius watched her face as she listened to her father’s response. Her expression was miserable.

He blocked all mercy from his soul. He was being cruel to be kind. Saving her from her own weak, loving heart.

“No,” she whispered into the phone. “I won’t abandon you. It’s not…”

She paused again, and her expression changed, became numb with grief. Finally, she choked out in a voice almost too soft to hear, “Okay, Dad. All right. I love you, too. So much. Goodbye.”

Tears were streaming down her face. Wiping them away, she handed Darius the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

He stared down at the phone in dismay. He hadn’t expected that. He picked it up and put it to his ear.

“What do you want?” he said coldly.

“Darius Kyrillos.” He recognized Howard Spencer’s voice. Though the voice had aged and grown shaky, he could almost hear the older man’s smile. “I remember when you were a little boy, just come to Fairholme. You barely spoke English but even then, you were a great kid.”

Unwanted memories went through him of when he’d first come to Fairholme with a father who was a stranger to him, a lonely eleven-year-old boy, bereaved by his grandmother’s death. He’d felt bewildered by America and homesick for Greece. Back then Howard Spencer had seemed grand and as foreign as a king.

But he’d welcomed the bereft boy warmly. He’d even asked his five-year-old daughter to look after him. In spite of their six-year age difference, Letty, with her caring and friendly heart, had swiftly become his friend, sharing her toys and showing him the fields and beach. While her father had given Darius Christmas presents and told him firmly he could do anything he wanted in life.

In an indirect way, Howard Spencer had even helped start his software company. As a teenager, Darius had been fascinated by computers. He’d taught himself to tinker and code, and soon found himself responsible for every tech device, security feature and bit of wireless connectivity at Fairholme. It was Howard Spencer who’d hired him as the estate’s first technical specialist and allowed him to continue to live there. He’d even paid for Darius to study computer science at the local community college…

Darius felt a twist in his gut. Like…guilt? No. He rushed to justify his actions. All right, so Spencer had encouraged him and paid for his schooling. Using stolen money from his Ponzi scheme!

“Yes, a good kid,” Howard continued gruffly. “But stubborn, with all that stiff-necked Greek pride. Always had to do everything yourself. Letty was the only one you really let help you with anything. And even then, you always thought you had to be in charge. You never recognized her strength.”

“Your point?” Darius said coldly.