“No, that can’t be. I’m Petunia Pappas, and I’ve been Petunia Pappas my whole life. My adoptive father is Andreas Pappas, and he’s Greek, sure. But he’s myadoptivefather, not my biological father.I’mnot Greek. I’m just some unwanted child from New Jersey, and I’m as American as apple pie.”
“Petunia–” I sigh.
“I mean, I’m just a normal girl from New Jersey,” she continues to ramble, her eyes starting to look wild. “I’m not from Europe, so what are you talking about? Out of all the lies and excuses that you could have come up with,thisis the one that you chose to go with? I’m Persephone? I’m your mysterious fiancée? This is ridiculous!” she continues in an unsteady voice.
That’s when I push her to sit on the couch before taking a seat beside her.
“Petunia, I know this discovery must be a shock to you, but your real name is Persephone Christos. You are a scion of the Christos family of Greece, who are billionaire shipping magnates. Penelope and Stavros Christos had a baby girl some two decades ago, and that baby is you.”
She stares at me.
“I don’t understand,” she whispers. “How can this be happening?”
I forge ahead, taking her small hand in mine. It’s cold and limp and I squeeze it with encouragement.
“The Christos family is extraordinarily wealthy, and that very wealth made them into targets. You can’t imagine what it was like: kidnapping attempts, assassination attempts, not to mention good old-fashioned swindlers of all sorts swarming about them at all times. Things started getting worse around the time your mother was pregnant with you. An uncle was held for ransom by unknown associates, and Penelope and Stavros were scared shitless. As a result, after much deliberation, they decided that Penelope should come to the United States to give birth to you. It’s safer here, and everything took place in secret.
“But–”
“Let me finish,” I say gently. “You were born here, but the family announced that you’d died. Then, your family asked Andreas, a trusted bodyguard, to raise you as his adoptive daughter here in the United States.”
Realization dawns in her eyes.
“Andreas,” she whispers. “My dad is my parents’ bodyguard.”
I nod.
“That’s right. Remember how you always wondered how an infant was placed for adoption with a single man?” I send her a pointed look. “Well, now you know. You were never put up for adoption, honey. Instead, Andreas took up residence in a New Jersey trailer park in order to throw off the scent. He raised you as his own, without the notice of the world outside.”
Petunia, or Persephone, is utterly stunned.
“I can’t believe it,” she manages in a whisper. “This is so crazy!”
I nod.
“It is, but this is where things get tricky.”
She lets out a bark of laughter.
“How do things get even more convoluted? This is insane!”
I nod, sighing.
“Yes. Well, we have yet to come to my role in this.”
Petunia stare at me.
“Yourrole?”
I nod again.
“Yes. As you may have deduced, I know your parents. You and I were betrothed to one another at a young age because both of our families are in the shipping business. Granted, at the time of the betrothal, I was already living in Astoria and you had just been born, but both the Christoses and Matthews saw our betrothal as a means to an end. They want to merge the family businesses, and the betrothal was the perfect way to do it.”
Petunia stares, still unable to formulate any words, her mouth opening and closing without sound.
“So yes,” I continue. “I was supposed to break the news to you. I was supposed to find you in New York and tell you everything, secret identity and all, but obviously, things went off the rails,” I add in a wry tone. “But at least now you know. I’m your fiancé and we’re engaged to be married.”
Petunia stares at me, two spots of bright color on her cheeks.