Chapter 123 The Only Prayers I'll Say For Daniel

Chapter 123 The Only Prayers I'll Say For Daniel
CHAPTER 123

The Only Prayers I'll Say For Daniel

Four days later the villa bedroom smelled faintly of sun-warmed linen and the last traces of Eleni’s mint lemonade.

Anna zipped the final one of her suitcase with a soft click, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

Outside, cicadas buzzed in lazy waves, the Aegean glittering far below like a sheet of shattered blue glass.

William had poked his head in ten minutes earlier, phone already glued to his ear.

“Fifteen minutes, sweetheart.”

His tone had been light, but the undercurrent was unmistakable, Richard's near-coup still cast a long shadow over Fairchild Enterprises.

One wrong quarter and the wolves would circle.

Anna folded a silk scarf neatly on top of swimsuits and sighed inwardly.

This is it. The end of the bubble.

Santorini had been a delicious season—golden light, salt air, nights tangled in sheets with William whispering promises against her skin.

She wasn't ready to trade it for Manhattan’s steel and concrete, for boardroom battles and the endless hum of the city that never quite let you breathe.

But time didn’t negotiate. Ryan could steer the ship for a while, but he wasn’t William. The empire needed its king back.

And then there were the texts from Olivia and Emilia, piling up like confetti.

We need you for father's birthday planning. Grand. Extravagant. Think black-tie Gatsby meets Greek tragedy (minus the tragedy)

Anna had laughed at the screen, but the pull was real. Edward’s birthday was the kind of event that demanded perfection, and the girls were already deep in mood boards and caterer shortlists.

But most of all, though, she missed her father.

Vincent's health had stabilized since two months ago, but phone calls weren’t the same as seeing the color in his cheeks, hearing his dry humor cut through his bedroom.

Johannah as always had been a saint—patient, thorough, never letting a detail slip—but Anna still ached to sit beside his bed, hold his hand, and see for herself that he was truly mending.

It's been four days since Anna walked out of that hospital room with a clean bill of health and the tiny life still growing inside her.

Thank God.

Four days ago Selene and her crew vanished like smoke. Although Anna suspected William made one quiet call and they scattered—smart man.

As for Selene… our next meeting will be interesting. Very interesting.

Overall Anna would miss the villa itself—the whitewashed curves, the bougainvillea spilling over railings like purple waterfalls, the way the sunset turned every surface rose-gold.

But most of all she would miss the people. The good people.

Nikos with his quiet competence and crooked smile.

Eleni’s warm kitchen hugs and spanakopita that tasted like home should taste. Their children—Andreas’s shy grin, Stefanos’s endless questions, Thalia’s quick laughter, little Rhea’s sticky-fingered hugs.

They had turned a temporary escape into something unforgettable, something she would replay in her mind on gray Manhattan mornings without hesitation.

The door opened softly. Eleni stepped in, little Rhea clinging to her skirt, a black insulated bag swinging from the girl’s small hand.

Finished packing, koukla?” Eleni asked, smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

(Koukla- Doll)

Anna returned the smile—genuine, easy. “All done. No need to help, I promise.” She tugged the zipper the last inch and reached for the handle.

Eleni was faster. “No, no—heavy lifting is not for the mama-to-be.” She hefted the suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor with practiced ease.

“Thank you,” Anna said softly.

Eleni held out the black bag. “For you. Open.”

Anna peered inside. Steam curled up from a flask packed tight beside a chilled glass bottle—fresh lemonade flecked with bright-green mint leaves.

The scent hit her like a memory: buttery phyllo, feta tang, the sharp-sweet bite of citrus.

She gasped, delighted. “Eleni, you didn’t have to—”

“I couldn't possibly send you back across the ocean without at least a taste of your favorite,” Eleni said, patting Anna’s arm.

“Something warm for the plane, something cool for when you land. A little piece of Santorini to carry with you.”

Anna's throat tightened. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the older woman. Eleni stiffened for half a second, surprised—then hugged back, one hand rubbing gentle circles between Anna’s shoulder blades.

“Thank you,” Anna whispered against her shoulder. “For everything.”

Eleni’s voice was thick with affection. “You're welcome, sweetheart. Always.”

They pulled apart slowly. Anna crouched to Rhea’s level. The little girl’s brown eyes were huge, curious.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” Anna murmured, opening her arms. Rhea launched forward, small arms squeezing tight.

Then—soft, unexpected—a wet kiss planted squarely on Anna’s cheek.

Anna's heart liquefied. “Thank you, agapi mou.”

(Agapi mou- my love)

Rhea giggled, dimples flashing. “Antio, Anna!”

(Antio- Goodbye)

Anna slipped the silver charm bracelet from her wrist—the tiny diamond bows catching the light like captured stars—and fastened it around Rhea’s chubby wrist.

“I remember how much you loved this. Now it's yours.”

Rhea stared at the glittering charms, eyes wide with wonder.

“Efcharistó, Rhea,” Anna added softly.

(Efcharistó- Thank you)

Rhea flung her arms around Anna’s neck. “Thank you!”

Anna laughed, hugging her close.

The children had taught her scraps of Greek during lazy afternoons by the pool—simple words, silly songs—and she had taught them English in return. A fair trade. A perfect one.

Eleni watched with shining eyes. “Thank you for the gift. She’ll treasure it.”

Anna nodded, rising.

Nikos appeared in the doorway. “Your husband is waiting downstairs, kyria.”

(Kyria- Ma'am)

Eleni turned to him. “Help her with the suitcase, Nikos.”

Nikos lifted it without a word and led the way. Anna followed with Eleni and Rhea, the black bag swinging gently from her fingers.

Downstairs William stood by the open car door, phone just ending a call. Loose white short-sleeved shirt, navy slacks, sunglasses perched on his head.

He looked relaxed—dangerously handsome in the golden light.

“Everything packed?” he asked.

“All set.” Anna watched Nikos load the suitcase into the trunk.

William extended a hand. “Let’s go.”

Anna gave Eleni one last quick hug. “Visit again once the baby comes,” Eleni whispered.

“I will. Promise.”

Anna ruffled Rhea’s curls; the girl beamed up at her, bracelet sparkling.

“Thank you, Nikos,” Anna said, stepping toward him.

He inclined his head, warm. “You’re welcome, kyria. Safe travels.”

William shook Nikos’s hand firmly. “For everything. Truly.”

Nikos smiled—proud, almost boyish. “Anytime, Mr. Fairchild.”

Eleni shifted Rhea to her hip; the little girl was still touching the charms reverently. “We’ll look forward to seeing you both again soon.”

“We’ll look forward to it too,” William said.

Anna slid into the passenger seat, waving as the car pulled away.

Eleni and Rhea waved back until the villa disappeared around the curve.

William glanced sideways, a knowing smile tugging his lips. “Ready to head home?”

Anna laughed softly. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”



The drive to the airport passed in comfortable quiet, windows down, salt wind tangling her hair.

Hours later the black SUV rolled through the gates of the Fairchild mansion. Gravel crunched under tires.

The front doors flew open before the engine even cut.

Olivia and Emilia burst out, barefoot and grinning like kids on Christmas morning.

The second Anna stepped out they attacked—twin bear hugs, squealing.

“We missed you!”

“Missed you more!”

Anna laughed, arms trapped. “You’re squishing me—baby on board, remember?”

They sprang back like they’d touched fire. “Sorry!”

William climbed out, eyebrow raised. “What—no hug for me?”

Olivia giggled and launched at him, planting a quick peck on his cheek. Emilia smiled. “Welcome back.”

Harold and the bodyguards—Elias and Gabriel—were already unloading luggage, moving with quiet efficiency.

Olivia bounced on her toes. “How was the trip? Spill!”

Emilia leaned in. “Did you see all the ancient sites? The Acropolis? Delphi?”

“I managed a few,” Anna said. “But—” She glanced past them into the open foyer.

“Where’s Camille?”

Before anyone could answer, Camille’s voice sliced through the hall—high, frantic.

“Daniel’s having a seizure! Someone get the nurse—now!”

Olivia and Emilia gasped in unison and bolted inside. Anna and William followed at a run.

They reached Daniel’s room in seconds. The nurse was already there, rolling him onto his side with practiced calm.

Daniel’s body jerked violently—limbs rigid then thrashing.

Camille stood frozen by the sideboard, hands pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with terror.

Anna crossed the room in three strides and pulled Camille into her arms. Camille clung, trembling.

Inside Anna’s head the thought was ice-cold and vicious.

Die. Just die already.

William stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable—calm, assessing.

The nurse pushed a syringe into the IV line. Slowly—agonizingly—the convulsions eased.

Muscles slackened. The jerking slowly stopped. She eased him onto his back again, checked vitals, adjusted the oxygen mask.

“What happened?” Camille asked the nurse.

“It’s post-traumatic epilepsy,” the nurse said quietly, wiping her hands.

“A complication from the brain injury. Seizures can happen without warning. He needs rest, monitoring… and prayers. Lots of prayers if he’s going to pull through this.”

Camille sniffled against Anna’s shoulder. Olivia stepped close, rubbing Camille’s arm in slow, soothing circles as Emilia looked on with sympathy in her eyes.

Anna held her tighter, face soft with concern.

Inside, though, her thoughts were black and final.

The only prayers I’ll ever say for Daniel are the ones spoken at funerals—safe passage for dead souls to whatever hell waits on the other side.