She pushed further.
"It was after that, your father sent us both on that assignment, and things changed. He... he started getting more infatuated."
Makros's fingers dug into her jaw. "I know Stefanos would do almost anything to get in bed with a woman. But to touch what's mine? He's not that desperate."
Leila swallowed, blinking up at him through damp lashes. "Not that desperate? He has kissed me in his bedroom twice and tried to take more from me."
Makros jerked her forward. "What did you say?"
She gasped. "He promised me a way out just to get me to sleep with him."
Makros's grip tightened painfully around her jaw. "And you expect me to believe that?"
Leila's heart skipped a beat. She wondered if she had pushed too far, or had said something to make him doubt her.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she attempted to perfect the act. "You don't have to believe it, Makros," she murmured. "You don't have to believe it for it to be true."
His rage was building. She could feel it, taste it in the way his fingers trembled against her skin.
Good.
She just needed to push him a little further.
"He told me about the communication room," she whispered, letting the words linger before adding, "Only three of you have access using key cards."
That was it. The last hole she had to poke to plant the seed of doubt into his mind.
Makros's grip on her jaw remained tight. Leila held his gaze, the weight of her words settling between them like an unsheathed sword. She could see it now, the way his mind worked to sort through the possibilities. She could see his trust in Stefanos wavering ever so slightly.
He spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "The communication room."
Leila blinked up at him. "What about it?"
He traced his thumb over her lower lip, relishing in its softness as he weighed the option of bruising it. "Have you ever been there?"
She let her expression shift, just slightly, to look confused, then shook her head. "No," she breathed. "Stefanos never took me there."
Makros's eyes darkened, his thumb still on her lip. "Why would Stefanos mention the comms room to you?"
She replied warily, "He told me that it was the safest way of hiding his involvement in planning my escape. Making arrangements through the comms room with the secure lines. Said he was suspicious of you tracking phones after the spy incident."
Makros exhaled slowly, watching her reaction. "Hmm, did he say anything else?"
"No, I swear. And he never took me with him. This was all happening while you weren't around."
"What the fuck, Stefanos?"
She breathed shakily. "Is this how the Cretes act? Betrayal at the slightest opportunity? Is there no one loyal in your family? If it's not a spy in your midst, it's your cousin attempting to steal what is yours, or your father concealing things from you."
Makros's jaw clenched, his fingers curling as if fighting to stop himself from wrapping his hands around her throat again.
"Mind your words," he threatened.
Leila laughed ignoring the hurt that accompanied it. "Why? Because they might be true?" She tilted her head, her gaze searching his. "You imagine you're the boss, Makros, that you're the one who controls everything. But even you don't see the people around you slipping behind your back."
His hand shot out, fingers curling around her throat so tightly she thought he was going to kill her.
She glared at him challengingly. "You know I'm right," she strained. "If I'm lying, why don't you go verify it yourself?"
