Eight
Damian sat backin his chair and took another drink of wine, his eyes finding Aria’s in the candlelight. They were sitting outside a tiny restaurant, an assortment of bistro tables and chairs right on the sand, so close to the water it had sometimes lapped over their feet as they’d eaten fresh octopus and crumbly feta, yeasty sourdough with olives picked from nearbytrees.
He’d hardly noticed Locke and Derek, evenCole.
He’d had eyes only for Aria, looking rested in spite of the long flight that morning. She’d pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail, her white sundress highlighting her delicate face, the full lips that always looked like he’d been kissing her — that always made him want to kissher.
Kythnos was magical, like Capri without all the baggage he and Aria would probably always have with the island in Italy. He hoped they would have a chance someday to reconcile their past there with the future. Before her kidnapping, it had always been one of his favoriteplaces.
After they’d gotten settled in the house on Kythnos, he’d done some follow-up with his sources, then spent the afternoon making love to Aria with the glass doors open to the private terrace off their room, the gentle rush of the sea chipping away at the cliffs below. He’d realized as they laid there that the ocean had been ever-present in their journey — the stormy sea of Long Island when he’d first given her refuge from the city, the ageless ocean off Capri, the cove in LaJolla.
It had been a soundtrack to their struggle andloss.
And yet, he still found the sound soothing, and no more so than when Aria was safely in his arms. She’d eventually fallen asleep, and he’d lain awake, stroking her hair, his eyes on the horizon beyond the terrace. For those moments, at least, it had felt like the world stopped spinning. Like time itself had hit the pause button so he and Aria could catch theirbreath.
It was a dangerous glimpse at bliss, one he didn’t dare entertain until they’d eliminated Gatti andAnastos.
“How do we start?” he asked, his eyes onLocke.
Locke wiped his mouth, reached under the table for the backpack he’d brought to dinner. Damian assumed it contained weapons — an insurance policy on the off chance Stefano had heard about their whereabouts inGreece.
Still, he wasn’t all that surprised when Locke removed two fat stacks of cash, neatly bundled like they’d come straight from the bank, and shoved them across the table towardDamian.
“The Greek economy offers us a unique advantage in smoking out Stefano,” Locke said. “I suggest we start by usingit.”
“Makes sense,” Damiansaid.
Even Anastos’ most loyal soldiers would be tempted by plentiful cash in the currentclimate.
Damian reached into his jacket pocket and removed a folded map of thecity.
“I’ve split Anastos’ known territories into manageable areas. If we split up and take one a day, shake the bushes, we might getlucky.”
“We don’t need luck,” Lockesaid.
“I hope you’re right,” Damiansaid.
They didn’t have confirmation that Stefano was in Greece, and even if he was, they were relying on the failings of others — namely the greed or disenchantment of Anastos’ men — rather than on something they couldcontrol.
Damian preferred being incontrol.
He’d survived his father’s abuse, had reimagined his father’s tainted legacy, had found Aria, by depending only on himself, and while he was coming around to trusting Farrell and the other leaders of the Syndicate, that trust was nowhere near extending to the rest ofhumanity.
People were unpredictable. It was one of the reasons he liked numbers and money: two plus two always equaledfour.
“It’s a statistical probability that one of Anastos’ men will flip on him,” Locke said. “The economy sucks and Anastos has lost ground in New York. That’s the harbinger of death for his operation. Word on the street is that New York is just the beginning — the Syndicate is back, and they’re going to retake their territory piece by piece. Anastos’ men will either want to make nice with Nico and the others by playing along, or they’ll want to get out while the getting is good. Either way, they have no choice but to play ball. We just have to give them anexcuse.”
“Which is where the money comes in,” Aria said. “None of their fellow soldiers will blame them for takingit.”
“Exactly,” Locke said. “They need cover to justify flipping. We’re going to give it tothem.”
“What if we get killed along the way?” Colesaid.
Damian felt a flash of guilt at the question. Cole didn’t yet know that Damian was going to order him to stay with Aria on the island while Damian, Locke, and Derek worked Athens forAnastos.
Cole wouldn’t complain. He was Damian’s underboss; he would do what he wastold.
But he wouldn’t likeit.