Chapter 33: Chapter Thirty Two

Eros

I watched as a myriad of emotions flickered across Dad's face before he finally masked them, making his expression unreadable. Perhaps he didn’t want to seem too angry, fearing it would push me further away. But even then, he had no right to dictate who I could or couldn't befriend.

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "You gave her what?"

"I gave her the money. A thousand euros," I replied, my tone indifferent. "Beatrix lost the same amount and accused Athena of stealing it."

"And how exactly does this concern you?" he asked, irritation evident in his voice.

"What kind of question is that?" I demanded with a frown.

"You're not her friend, so why are you involving yourself?" he said, his tone dismissive. "Let her parents handle it."

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" I snapped. "They don’t care about her. Serena claimed she ran away, but after everything I’ve learned, I don’t believe that’s the truth."

His eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me you’ve been digging into this? Looking for her?" He stared at me incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm not kidding," I replied firmly. "You know I don’t bluff."

"You’ll stop whatever it is you’re doing immediately," he ordered. "Is she the reason you met Nate at that café? If you had just gone straight home, you wouldn’t have been caught in that shooting."

"Who's to say they wouldn’t have ambushed the car on the road? Run it off the road like they did to Mom?" I shot back. "And you have no right to tell me what to do."

"I'm your father," he countered, his tone sharp. "So, you'll do as I say."

I met his gaze coldly. "Don’t pull that card with me, Leonardo." I said, my tone firm. "The last time you were truly a father to me was fourteen years ago—when I scraped my knee falling off my bike. You just happened to be there, but the moment Mom showed up, you left me with her and took off like you couldn’t stand to be around her."

As I expected, he said nothing. He couldn’t. Because he knew I was right. Fourteen years, and I had never forgotten that day. It was just one of the many reasons I resented him—treating my mother like she meant nothing to him.

"This isn’t leading anywhere," he said softly, turning his back to me. "I don't want us to argue. I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I appreciate it," I replied, though my tone made it clear I didn’t mean it. "I just don’t understand why everyone is treating Athena like it’s her fault her father turned out to be a murderer."

"I really don’t want to discuss this," he told me, turning back to face me.

"Then you shouldn’t have let your curiosity get the best of you," I huffed, frustration evident in my voice. "If you're not going to help, you shouldn’t have asked me anything."

"If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have minded," he shrugged. "Just not... her."

"Don’t tell me her father did something to you too?" I asked, scrutinizing his face. "Are you one of his victims?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he muttered, shaking his head as he moved toward the door. "Are you hungry? I’ll ask one of the new bodyguards to get you whatever you want."

"What did you just say?" I stared at him in shock. "You fired my bodyguards?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Of course it is!" I exclaimed. "I’ve known them for years. You can’t just fire them without my consent."

"Let’s not forget, I hired them. I’m their boss, and I pay their salaries," he reminded me. "I can do whatever I want with them."

"They have families to care for too," I protested. "Philip has a five-year-old daughter battling with leukemia. She needs a stem cell transplant, but finding a donor’s been tough. If she doesn’t get treatment, she’ll die. How is he supposed to take care of her now that he’s unemployed?"

"Isn’t he the head of your security? Where was he when you were shot?" Dad questioned. "I hired them for your protection, but they didn’t do their job. So, forgive me if I don’t share your concerns."

His nonchalant attitude toward firing my bodyguards infuriated me. If I hadn't been shot and forced to rest to avoid tearing my stitches, I might have done something reckless. Was he so far gone that he no longer cared whether another man's child lived or died?

"I want them rehired or I’ll make do without them," I told him firmly.

"I told your grandmother I’d take care of your security, and I did," he replied, his tone final. "If you want them back, you’ll have to talk to her."

"If you hadn’t been involved with Vivienne, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be here right now," I snapped, my tone biting. "If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself."

"You think I don’t feel guilty about this?" He snapped, his eyes flashing.

"You could have fooled me," I shot back. "Just leave. I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

I watched as he inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as if he'd run a marathon, though in reality, he was just trying to rein in his anger.

“If you want your bodyguards back so badly, fine. I'll reinstate them,” he said, his tone edged with frustration. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever,” I muttered, turning my face away from him.

“Are you hungry?” he asked after a moment, his tone tentative.

“No, thank you,” I replied, my voice as cold and distant as the space between us.

“I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow to take you home,” he added, his voice soft. “If you need anything, you can ask one of the guards outside the door. Philip and his team will resume work tomorrow.”

“I won’t say thank you,” I retorted. I knew I was acting like a child, but I didn’t care.

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t want you to hate me more than you already do,” he said softly, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t hate you, but I don’t like you either,” I responded bluntly.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, son.”

I didn’t respond. He left, his shoulders slumped in defeat. I should have felt pity, but I didn’t. He hadn’t earned any affection from me.

Two hours later, after a short walk down the corridor and back to my room, I lay in my hospital bed, staring blankly at the muted television screen. The door creaked open, and I barely glanced up, expecting it to be a nurse or one of the bodyguards. Instead, Scarlett stood in the doorway, and my jaw tightened.

She stepped inside slowly, her eyes scanning the bandage on my hairline, the bruises on my face, and the IV in my arm. “I saw the news,” she said softly, closing the door behind her. “Are you okay?”

I exhaled sharply and turned my attention back to the TV. “What are you doing here, Scarlett?”

“I wanted to check on you,” she said gently.

“You’ve checked. Now you can leave,” I ordered, my voice icy.

Scarlett flinched at my tone, but she didn’t move. “Eros, I know we’re not exactly close, but I—”

“You can stop right there,” I cut her off, my voice sharp and final. “We’re not close, and we never will be. So, whatever sympathy visit this is, save it.”

She took a step forward, her brow furrowed. “I’m not here out of sympathy. I was worried.” she said.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Worried? Since when do you worry about me?”

Scarlett swallowed, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Look, I know you don’t like me, and maybe I deserve that, but I—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, my jaw tightening. “I don’t need you pretending to care.”

Scarlett clenched her fists at her sides, visibly fighting to maintain her composure. "I'm not pretending." She bit out.

I turned to face her, my gaze sharp and filled with disdain. “Really? Because last I checked, we weren’t exactly friends. Or did you come here to play the concerned girlfriend for my father? He’s not here.”

Her nostrils flared, but she kept her voice steady. “You think I care about that right now?”

I scoffed. “You always do. Or maybe you’re just here to impress my father.”

Scarlett’s expression stiffened. “Leonardo doesn’t even know I’m here. I don’t talk to your dad.”

I studied her for a moment before shaking my head. “Doesn’t matter. You should leave.”

Scarlett exhaled sharply, her frustration rising. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she hissed.

“And you’re persistent,” I retorted. “What, did you expect me to suddenly be grateful for your concern? To welcome you with open arms?”

“I expected you to at least acknowledge that someone gives a damn about you,” she shot back, her voice rising. “You could’ve died, Eros. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I’m fine. You can go.”

Scarlett shook her head, disbelief evident on her face. “You push everyone away, don’t you?”

“Only the ones I don’t want around,” I said coldly, dismissing her.

She sighed, glancing at the chair beside my bed but not sitting. “I know I’ve made mistakes, okay? But I’m trying.”

“Trying?” I scoffed. “You’re trying now that I’m lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound?”

Her lips parted, as though she wanted to argue but hesitated. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” I muttered. “Just go.”

A thick silence settled between us, heavy with everything unsaid. Scarlett stood there for a moment, as if weighing whether to push further, but the icy disdain in my gaze made it clear—there was no breaking through the wall I’d built. She needed to understand that nothing would ever make me like her.

“You’re an ass,” she muttered, turning to leave.

“Glad we agree on something,” I called after her.

Scarlett paused at the door, gripping the handle. She glanced over her shoulder, her voice softer now. “Whether you like it or not, I still care. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re okay.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t even glance at her. I simply turned my attention back to the TV. With a quiet sigh, Scarlett left, leaving behind the same walls I always kept between us.

Alone again, I clenched my jaw and turned up the volume on the TV, drowning out the silence she left in her wake.

I couldn’t tell if she and my father were communicating through telepathy, but they had both managed to ruin the rest of my week. Right now, all I could focus on was unraveling the tangled threads of the investigation into Athena’s disappearance.

The first step would be to report her missing to the police, but it could end up being Beatrix’s word against mine. If she claimed that Athena had run away on her own, presenting evidence like the missing clothes and passport, there wouldn’t be much I could do.