chapter SIXTEEN
HE WOULD kill him.
He would find where he lived and would go there.
Nico sped the car through the quiet morning, chewing up the miles with rage. He screeched to a halt at the toll barrier, blasting his horn impatiently for the watchman to lift it, ready to spring out and raise the thing himself. There was nothing on his mind but revenge, certainly no thought of consequences.
And the consequences for Connie were more than she could idly wait to unfold.
She rang her parents, desperate when they wouldn’t answer, knowing they would now be on their morning walk, appalled at what they would come home to.
‘He’s fine!’ Despina saw her anguish when, having quickly dressed, she fled to the old woman’s door.
But it wasn’t Leo she feared for.
She held him close, inhaled his delicious scent, and she was scared for her father and scared for Leo’s father, too.
‘Can you take me to my parents’?’ Paulo came out from a room at the sound of her anguish. ‘Please …’ she sobbed. ‘Nico is on his way there now.’
Paulo’s car was no match for Nico’s. It was small, ancient, and Paulo wasn’t up for a car chase. He ambled along the roads, even when she begged him to go faster, but they had Leo in the car, Paulo pointed out, and no car seat … and she looked at her baby and had to bite her lip in frustration as Despina attempted to reassure her.
‘He’s a good man,’ Despina soothed.
He was a good man, a just man, Connie knew that, but a terrible injustice had been done to him and when Paulo asked at the road toll if they had seen him, a man in silver sports car, her heart sank further. They were told how he had been, angry and blasting his horn then driving off as if the devil had been chasing him.
Paulo knew Xanos well and did not need directions, but as they turned at the market square into her street and drove up the hill, she was petrified what she might see. She braced herself for a police car or for neighbours on the street, for Nico’s sleek sports car, but there was nothing, no sign of Nico, or that he had even been here. She asked Despina to wait with Leo as she ran up to her front door, hammering on it, frustrated at the long wait for her father to open it.
Slowly he did so and frowned at the sight of his estranged daughter and then behind to where Despina stood, holding his grandson.
‘I don’t take in beggars.’ He went to close the door and, Connie realised Nico didn’t need to do it, she could quite happily have killed him herself.
‘That’s your grandson.’ She barged in, powered on her own anger, proud, so proud to say it, for the truth to be known. ‘His father is Nico Eliades.’ And she watched her father’s hand reach to his chest and she shook her head, for she would not let him manipulate her, would not let him hide behind a bedroom door with a nurse standing guard. ‘He knows,’ Connie said. ‘He knows what you did and he’s on his way here.’ And she told him to get up when he fell to the floor. She told him to grow up when he begged out excuses and she told him to give her his office keys, to face Nico when he arrived and give him what he deserved.
His identity.