Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
And they had all been talking about his wife.
“Oh, look, she’s finally making it out of the island.” Barely muffled titters followed the observation, and Kyr’s hand clenched and unclenched on the table. He knew that the woman was referring to the numerous tabloids that had slyly speculated on the reason why Mrs. Gazis was never seen outside Greece.
And most of them had thought it was because he was ashamed of her, Kyr thought grimly. He hadn’t been, of course, and he would never be, but did his young wife know this?
But soon, his attention was called away by the twins, who were asking him about where they were going.
When he told them it was Dubai, Dio asked, “Where is it, Papa?”
“You know Dubai, Mama?” Ella asked.
And when Pollyanna had answered cheerfully, “Nope,” the socialites from the other tables had laughed and rolled their eyes.
“Of course she wouldn’t know Dubai,” one of them murmured snidely. “She was nothing before the marriage, and without the Gazis billions, the only chance she’d have make it to Dubai is as one of those pathetic contract workers.”
Fuck you. Kyr straightened in his seat, about to confront the women, but his wife’s gentle touch on his hand stopped him. She shook her head and looked at the twins meaningfully.
Pollyanna expected her husband to argue, but instead he took a deep breath, his lips curving in a charming smile. “Wish granted, psaraki.” It was so surprising, she couldn’t help gazing at him suspiciously. But her husband was no longer looking at her, busy typing a message on his phone.
Ten minutes later and the pilot came inside the lounge, telling them that the private jet had been refueled. “It’s a good thing you have your own jet, Mrs. Gazis.” The pilot’s unnaturally loud voice made Pollyanna’s eyes widen. “Most commercial flights to Dubai from here require several stops but ours will be a direct flight, so we’ll be reaching our destination sooner than most.”
“Oh. I see. That’s good.” Pollyanna wasn’t exactly sure what to say. She didn’t really mind a long flight since she was also looking forward to exploring Kyr’s jet. Behind her, she completely missed the irate looks on the socialites’ faces, since none of them had access to a private jet. They were rich, but they were not and would never be in the same league as Kyrillos Gazis.
When the pilot left, Pollyanna looked at her husband in askance, wondering why they weren’t leaving, too. But he only shook his head at her.
Kyr was patiently biding his time. He was nothing but thorough when destroying his enemies, and as far as he was concerned, anyone who had even a nasty thought in their mind about his wife was someone to be demolished.
When the socialites finally left, he waited for a good five minutes before telling Pollyanna, “Let’s go?” He only smiled at her curious look and scooped Dio into his arms while Pollyanna carried Ella.
He held her hand as they stepped out of the lounge, and Pollyanna was startled when someone in the airport hallway shouted, “It’s them!” She looked up, and her eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing in shock as a crowd of paparazzi surged towards them, leaving behind a now-ignored group of socialites.
When she realized what Kyr had done, she looked up at him in exasperation. Did you have to go that far?
He shrugged. Not far enough.
And she realized he meant every word when they made it to the private jet and again there was an unexplained delay before takeoff. Thinking there was a technical issue behind it, Pollyanna focused on getting the twins settled in a private room that had been converted into their play area. When she came out, it was to find the same group of socialites lined up at the lounge, stiff smiles pasted on their faces.
“Would you like anything, Mrs. Gazis?” Their tones were just as stiff as the rest of them.
Okay...
Kyr appeared in the doorway, and his tone was languid as he asked, “Well, psaraki? Anything you want to have them do? They’re for you to order about. Their families, you see, do business for us—-”
Pollyanna winced at the emphasis.
“—-and since I’ve made it known I’m in need for more staff for our flight, they have kindly offered their services.” He paused. “As contract workers.” He gave her a pleasant smile. “So what’s it to be? Do you want them to kneel and beg for your forgiveness and promise they wouldn’t be stuck-up bitches for the rest of their lives? Perhaps kiss your feet, too?”
The suggestion so shocked his wife that she ended up giving him his favorite blowfish look, and the lethal edge of his temper somewhat cooled at the sight of it.
“I...d-don’t think we need extra staff,” Pollyanna finally mumbled when it was clear that Kyr wasn’t going to budge until she made a decision.