Chapter 124
DAMIAN’S POV
“We’re beginning our descent into Athens,” the flight attendant’s gentle voice announced, waking us.
I blinked awake, groggy, and looked across the aisle.
Alaric and Vicky were stirring too, both looking like they’d dozed off mid-conversation, Vicky’s head still resting on his shoulder.
Cindy stretched, smiling sleepily at me. “Good afternoon, handsome.”
“Hello, beautiful,” I said, my voice rough from sleep.
We gathered our things as the jet touched down.
The air in Athens hit us the moment the door opened, crisp and salty, with that unmistakable Mediterranean bite.
A private convoy of four sleek black SUVs with tinted windows and a limo was already waiting on the tarmac.
We piled inside the limo, Cindy seated beside me again.
The drive to Piraeus was short but beautiful.
Athens unfolded around us, white buildings climbing the hills, ancient ruins peeking between modern streets, and the sea glittering in the distance.
Cindy pointed out spots she loved.
“That little square over there,” she said, nodding out the window.
“Dad used to take me for gelato when I was little. And see that hill? Best view of the Acropolis at sunset.”
I squeezed her hand. “We’ll go. All of it.”
She smiled, her eyes shining bright. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Piraeus bustled with life, yachts, ferries, the hum of a working port, but our convoy cut straight through to the private dock.
The Verilli family cruise ship came into view, and even I had to admit it was stunning.
Not some oversized monster, but elegant, three decks of teak and glass, maybe 200 feet long. A white hull gleaming under the sun.
Luxurious without screaming it.
Crew in crisp white uniforms waited at the gangway, ready to take our luggage.
We climbed the teak steps, the ship rocking gently under our feet.
Cindy held my hand tight. “You ready?”
I took a deep breath.
I hadn’t been nervous before, but now, standing inches from meeting Leonardo Verilli, I felt the cold feet creep in.
The stories of Leonardo Verilli weren’t exaggerations. Back then in D.C., I had seen him a couple of times whenever I paid Alaric a visit.
Popularly known as the Silver Fox, brutal in the business world, he dominated shipping, real estate, luxury hospitality, and strategic investments across Europe and the Americas.
He’s the kind of man who would crush anyone who dared stand in his way.
He’s dangerous, but in a cool way.
Don’t panic, Damian. He can’t kill you. Probably.
I glanced at her and nodded. “I guess I am.”
She smiled, squeezing my hand, and we followed Alaric and Vicky deeper into the ship.
A man in a sharp black suit met us midway, bowing slightly.
“This way, Master Alaric. The lord is waiting on the aft deck.”
The lord?
Oh good lord, why does it sound like I’m meeting some Italian mob boss?
I swallowed hard, my heart beating fast.
Be a man, Damian. Be a man.
Alaric hugged Cindy quickly. “You ready to face Dad after all this time?”
She laughed softly. “Of course.”
We walked through the interior, then out onto the open aft deck, the ocean stretching into endless blue before us.
And there he was.
Standing by the railing with his back to us was a 6’2” tall, well-built man.
His silver hair was cropped short and perfectly groomed, a beige linen shirt rolled at the sleeves, and a glass of what looked like dark rum in one hand.
Hefty, dangerous-looking bodyguards stood at every corner, silent and watchful.
My heart slammed against my chest, a sudden wave of fear coursing through me.
His face came into focus as he turned slowly from the railing, high cheekbones, a strong Roman nose that looked like it had been broken once and set perfectly, and piercing steel-gray eyes.
Those eyes swept the deck in one slow pass, taking in Alaric, Vicky, and finally landing on me.
I swear I stopped breathing.
My ribs throbbed just from the tension, and I suddenly felt like I was sixteen again, facing my dad after wrecking the car.
Then Cindy’s voice shattered the moment.
“Daddy!”
She let go of my hand and ran forward, throwing her arms around him like she was still the little girl he used to carry on his shoulders.
Leonardo’s face transformed in an instant, the hard lines softening as he wrapped one arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Rosie mia,” he murmured with affection, the Italian rolling off his tongue.
“You’re home.”
That deep voice, a New York accent mixed with a Sicilian roll, matched every article I’d read about the Italian-American legend: born in New York to Sicilian immigrant parents, spent his formative years in Palermo before returning to the U.S. to build an empire.
Cindy laughed, pulling back just enough to look up at him.
“I missed you so much.”
He cupped her face with both hands now, his thumbs brushing her cheeks.
“You look happy, Rosie. That is… good.”
“Very good.”
Relief flooded me instantly.
Come on, Damian. Get it together.
He’s not gonna kill you in front of his daughter.
Cindy turned back to me, her eyes shining, and reached for my hand eagerly.
She tugged me forward until I was standing right in front of him, close enough to smell the rum on his breath and the strong cedar of his cologne.
“Daddy,” she said, her voice soft but proud, a blush creeping up her cheeks, “this is Damian. My man.”
Leonardo’s eyes locked on mine again, sharp and unblinking.
He didn’t move at first, just studied me like he was deciding whether I was worth the air I was breathing.
His free hand, the one with the heavy gold pinky ring, lifted his glass slowly, and he tapped the ring against the crystal once.
Tick. Tick.
“You,” he said, one word at a time, “are the one… who hurt my Rosie.”
My heart stopped, my throat suddenly dry as sandpaper.
What the hell?
That was the first thing he said to me? No “nice to meet you,” no handshake, just that?!
I opened my mouth, searching for words, but before I could get anything out, his hand shot forward like a snake striking.
His strong, calloused fingers wrapped around my throat, and in one smooth motion, he slammed my back against the railing.
Cindy’s sharp gasp cut through the air. “Daddy!”
Pain exploded through my ribs, white-hot, blinding.
I cried out, the sound ripping from my throat before I could stop it, doubling over as much as his grip would allow.
He didn’t care.
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a deadly growl.
“Why did you… cheat on my Rosie… Explain.”