Page 20 of Climbing Everest

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Page 20 of Climbing Everest

The big fucker looks like he would rather rip my spine out than show me an ounce of affection, or even respect.

Instead of answering, I focus on my meal and ponder this whole wedding ordeal. There has to be a way to get it through Kato’s thick fucking skull that he’s playing with fire simply by having me in his home.

Maybe when Christos returns, I can convince him to talk some sense into his son.

Lifting the napkin to dab at my lips, I raise my chin. “When will your father return? And which girlfriend is he entertaining these days?”

Not that I actually knew a single one of them before, nor did I think he would keep any of them longer than it took to grow bored.

As though death itself stepped through the door, the entire room grows tense, darkness filling Kato’s bright blue eyes as he sets his wine down a little too hard, causing some of the crimson liquid to slosh out onto the table and his hand.

“You know my father’s dead,” he growls out.

I frown. My lips part. “He’s…” Wait. Why would he think I would know that? I’ve been gone for four years. “When did he die?”

The chair legs make an awful sound against the hardwood floor as Kato pushes back and shoves to his feet, rounding thetable and looming over me, his hands on either side of my chair and caging me in.

Fuck, he’s big. Far bigger than I remember. He’s practically radiating with anger, a muscle jumping in his cheek.

“Drop the fucking act.” His voice is so low, so deep and gravelly as his gaze bounces between mine. “You were never a good liar or a good actress. Although, you sure as fuck had us convinced that night.”

That night. That night. He keeps bringing it up as though I’d had a single fucking choice.

“Kato…I don’t…” I shake my head, trying to find the words to convince him I seriously have no idea what happened to Christos Antoniou. I mean, I shouldn’t have to remind him I haven’t lived in the same state since I was eighteen, and I sure as hell didn’t bother calling home for updates.

It was better if my father believed I was dead.

Except Kato plans to announce our engagement to the city, maybe the state. So not only will I be in danger, but so will these three.

But the way they’ve been treating me, the way they’re looking at me now…why the fuck should I care about their safety if they obviously don’t give a shit about me or what I want?

His nostrils flare. His pupils are dilated as he continues to glare at me. After a few more moments of the stare down, he pushes to his full height. “Get the fuck out of here. Get the rest of that shit packed away. I’ll send someone for you when the coordinator arrives.”

And then he saunters back to his chair and sits back down to finish his meal.

Oh, I’m so fucking tempted to ignore him, to continue eating, to stare him straight in the eye as I lift the fork to my lips.

But I’ve lost my appetite, anyway.

Scooting my chair back, I drop my napkin on my plate and leave the room, the clack of the stupid heels Madd put on my feet echoing against the walls and filling the sparsely decorated space.

This house has always felt cold, not that I was able to spend much time in it unless Kato’s parents were out of town.

Those times were some of the most fun of my life. We would pretend we were a real family, have meals together, snuggle on the couch as we watched movies, then I would fall asleep surrounded by the men I’d thought of as my husbands even before we decided to leave permanent markings on each other to assert our emotional ownership of each other.

Sure, one woman madly in love with three men might be unconventional, but it never felt anything but normal and natural to me. They had never battled for my attention, never made me feel as though I had to choose only one of them.

They simply loved me for me and allowed me to do the same with them.

Now they hate me, and apparently they think I know about Christos’ death.

It almost sounded like Kato felt as though I’d had a hand in it. No matter what I say, no one will listen to me.

Trudging up the stairs in these stupid heels, I kick them off the second I pass the guard and step into my room.

But I whirl around. “What’s your name?” I ask.

He frowns at me over his shoulder.


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