Callos speak for herself?’ he asked with deliberate mildness. He moved his gaze back to Iolanthe, surprised and strangely gratified to see a flash of ire in her eye; the statue was gone.
‘Yes, Kyria Callos can,’ she informed him shortly. The sound of her voice was another surprise; gone was the girlish lilt, replaced by the crisp tones of a grown-up woman in control of her life, if not her business.
‘Very well.’ Alekos gave her a nod, just as she had given him. ‘What is it you wish to know?’
‘I wish to know why you have bought controlling shares in my father and husband’s company,’ she said, and he heard the dislike in her voice, mixed with contempt. The realisation that she scorned him made his resolve for revenge harden inside him, a core of steel that had been the basis of every choice and desire for his entire adult life. ‘And were so secretive about it,’ she added, tossing the words like an insult.
‘If you had cared to dig a little deeper, you would have found that I was not as secretive about my purchases as you seem to think. It was simply that your husband did not care to look closely into the matter.’
A small gasp escaped her before she pressed her lips together. ‘How dare you?’
‘How dare I?’ Alekos arched an eyebrow, coldly incredulous. Her fake posturing of outrage and hauteur he could handle; this he could dismiss. ‘I did not realise I was daring anything at all. I was merely stating a fact. Your husband was desperate, Kyria Callos.’
‘At least he was honourable,’ Iolanthe shot back before she drew in a quick breath and composed herself. ‘Something you’ve never been.’
‘Kyria Callos—’ Metaxas began, clearly shocked by this unprecedented exchange.
‘Iolanthe and I have some history,’ Alekos informed the solicitor with curt politeness. ‘As you have most likely surmised.’ He glanced back at Iolanthe; her eyes looked like lambent silver, shining with suppressed fury—and remembrance. Was she recalling, as he was, how explosive they’d been together? Ten years on and he still remembered how she’d felt and tasted. How irresistible she’d been to him, so much so that he’d thrown caution and common sense to the wind in order to possess her.
Thank goodness he’d learned a little self-control in the last decade. Of course, he’d made sure never to cross paths with Iolanthe again.
Now Metaxas shot Iolanthe a troubled glance, but she said nothing. ‘Kyria Callos is naturally concerned about the nature of your business dealings—’
‘My actions towards Petra Innovation have been completely legal,’ Alekos cut him off smoothly. ‘Which is more than I can say for Talos Petrakis or Lukas Callos.’
Metaxas stiffened with affront. ‘Are you implying something—?’
‘Implying, no. Merely stating fact. Again.’ Alekos moved his gaze to Iolanthe once more. She was pale with shock, but her eyes snapped with fury, her mouth compressed. She still had her spirit, then. Why did that thought please him? Nothing about Iolanthe Callos pleased or even interested him. He had not thought of her in ten years. At least, he had made himself not think of her.
‘So after initiating a hostile takeover of my father’s company, you cast aspersions on him and my husband’s character?’ Iolanthe shook her head, her features pinching with dislike. ‘I suppose I should have expected nothing less from you. Next you will be insulting me as well.’
‘As far as I can tell, you are the only one casting insults.’
‘I really think this has gone far enough,’ Metaxas intervened. ‘Perhaps we can keep to discussing what Kyrie Demetriou intends for Petra Innovation—’
‘Of course.’ Colour flared in Iolanthe’s pale cheeks, making her look even lovelier. She was like a tall, dark flame, standing so straight and proud, refusing to be cowed. Alekos felt an unsettling mix of pity and admiration. Even so, her courage wouldn’t keep him from dealing the lethal blow he’d intended for so long. He only wished Talos Petrakis were alive to see and feel it.
‘I am more than happy to inform you both of my intentions for Petra Innovation,’ Alekos stated. He’d been responding emotionally to Iolanthe; it was time to stick to facts. To savour them, and the sweet revenge he’d now enjoy to the full, cold as it was. ‘My intention for Petra Innovation is to close the company and liquidate all of its assets.’ He glanced at Iolanthe, registering the lovely mouth that had dropped open in shock, the hands hanging slack and useless by her sides. ‘Forty per cent should keep you in relative comfort, although I’m afraid the company is not performing nearly as well as it once was.’ Not like when it had been flogging the software system he had designed. Tech wizard Callos might have been, but he had not ever been able to match Alekos’s inventions. Just copy them.
‘You can’t,’ Iolanthe whispered.
‘I can,’ Alekos informed her flatly. ‘Indeed I have already begun the process.’
‘You’re going to fire all the employees—’
‘Are you so concerned for those nameless faces, or is it your own position that worries you?’ Alekos cut across her, a new fury firing his voice. He’d thought he’d put this anger far, far behind him. But now, seeing Iolanthe here, knowing she had profited from his inventions, his work and life’s blood, all the while married to that leech Callos, sleeping in his bed—
Rage was not a strong enough word.
It had taken a while for him to realise that Lukas Callos was the technical genius behind Talos Petrakis’s business savvy; to understand that Callos had been the one to copy his design, at Petrakis’s behest, all those years ago. And Iolanthe had been sharing his bed, the pampered, spoiled wife.
‘How dare you accuse me?’ Iolanthe whispered, the words a breath of fury. ‘You, of all people—’
‘Clearly you hold me in low regard,’ Alekos drawled in a bored voice. ‘But it is of little consequence. The liquidation will go forward immediately.’
‘I think we should all take a moment to—’ Metaxas began, but Iolanthe cut across him, taking a step towards Alekos, one slender hand balled into a useless fist.
‘You can’t. Petra Innovation belongs to me.’
He stared at her, unmoved. ‘Not any more.’
‘My whole life, my son’s life—’
He’d heard she’d had a son by Callos. He’d never seen the boy, of course, and didn’t even know his name. And what did he care of his enemy’s birthright? His own had been taken from him when Petrakis had kissed him on both cheeks and then stolen his idea. His illusions had been ripped away first by the father, and then his daughter. He had none left.
‘I hope you are both adaptable,’ Alekos said coolly and Iolanthe let out a choked cry.
‘When I first met you, I thought you were a good man. You have proved me wrong again and again.’
Alekos stamped down on the flicker of regret he felt, a tiny, unfortunate flame that he quickly quenched. ‘Then perhaps you are a fool,’ he said coldly. ‘To believe something when the evidence proves otherwise. Or,’ he suggested, iron entering his voice, ‘perhaps you should question which is the good man and which is the bad in this scenario. Good day.’ Not trusting himself to say any more, he nodded tersely to both Metaxas and Iolanthe before turning to leave the room.
‘HOW WAS IT?’
Amara, Iolanthe’s housekeeper and closest confidante for the last ten years, having cared for her since she was a child, met her at the doorway of the town house near the Plaka that she’d lived in since her marriage.
‘Terrible.’ Iolanthe only just managed to choke out the word.