Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I yank the picture from his grasp, not quite believing what he’s saying. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She said she was twenty-four.”
“Seems the father isn’t the only member of the Stratakis that lied to you, my friend.”
“Is this shit why you showed up here?” I ask, struggling to understand.
“Well, I was going to tell you about the deal they have going. The old man sold his daughter to get Kelly to ship his products for free from what we’ve been able to uncover. I didn’t realize you were searching for the woman in question until I saw the picture.”
“So, I’m going to have to go back to Greece and storm the damn house to get my hands on her again?” I ask, mostly to myself. Shit, I want the woman again, and I wouldn’t mind ruining Dracos’ life, but even I’m not sure about doing it for a woman who probably sought me out and lied to me to get me to fuck her. Which was a mistake on her part. I would have fucked her either way. Hell, I might have even enjoyed it more if I’d known the truth.
“Afraid that won’t work. The scuttlebutt is that his daughter ran away. No one can find her, and the old man is livid.”
“Shit…”
“What are you thinking?” he asks, but I can tell from his smile that he already knows.
“That I’m going to find his daughter before he does,” I answer, holding out my drink. He clinks his against it and we both drain our glasses.
Melina Stratakis is going to be mine and she’ll learn lying to me will get her ass in a fuck of a lot of trouble.
melina
I’ve officially been on my own for four weeks. Some days it feels like just yesterday. It’s different yet wonderful, at the same time. This island really is like a place of its own. With each day that passes, I’m starting to feel like a normal person. I’m starting to feel… free.
Today was my day off and for the first time I had a day completely for me. I got my hair cut at the local salon. Then, I came back to the small cottage and planted in my raised bed containers. If all goes well, I’ll soon have tomatoes growing, as well as carrots, lettuce, onions, and potatoes. Maybe it’s silly to some people, but I’m unreasonably happy when I put my hands to dirt and manage to grow my own food. When I’m in town tomorrow, I’m going to pick up some garlic and other herbs to plant.
I step out of the shower, just finishing washing off the dirt and grime I got from tending my small garden. I wrap one of the soft towels that Mrs. Davies supplied in the home. Back in Greece, my bedroom is probably bigger than this entire cottage. It’s funny, I’ve always hated my bedroom, but here, I feel like I’ve finally found a place I belong. It’s almost like I finally have a home for the first time in my life. I actually wake up every morning with a smile on my face. It’s a magical feeling.
Just thinking about it, has me humming out loud. I close my eyes, letting the happiness move over me, and enjoy the sensations of it. I walk up to the mirror, still smiling. Now, it’s time to fix my hair. I’m always so weird. I like to get my hair cut, but I always like to fix my own afterwards. No one gets my look like me—I’m very particular. I swear, sometimes, when I walk out of the salon, I feel like they make me look like a damn poodle. I grab the blow dryer and styling brush and get to work, letting the heat further relax me. I keep my eyes closed enjoying the sensation and letting it kind of zone me out. In the back of my mind, thoughts of Antonio creep up on me. I think about him often and I still miss him. I sometimes question my sanity, but the truth is, he made me feel special and beautiful. There’s a magnetism about him that draws me in and apparently, it’s going to stick with me quite a while.
Once I get my hair dry and semi-styled, I grab the clothes I laid out and get dressed. I almost cackle as I put them on. They are so far away from what I used to wear at my father’s. There are no designer clothes here. I’m wearing a faded blue T-shirt with the word Beach Bum written across it. In bold white letters. I’ve got a pair of cutoff jeans on with that. Both items of clothes I picked up at a secondhand store in town. I happen to love them. Heck, most of my wardrobe that I wear on a daily basis came from there.