She barely managed to bathe, half-expecting the ghost of Makros' dead wife to drag her under the water.
As soon as she stepped out, the door creaked open. Her heart jumped, and she spun around in fear.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sofia said quickly. "Makros asked me to get you. I didn't realize you were taking a bath."
"It's fine," Leila said. "I'll be out in a minute."
She must have spent half the time the way she hurriedly slipped into a green nightgown and joined Sofia in the hallway. When they reached the balcony, Sofia left her alone with Makros.
"We're going to my shoe company tomorrow," Makros said.
"The one the Orel Bratva burned down?" Leila asked.
"Yes. It's being rebuilt, but I need to oversee things."
Leila frowned. Why did that matter to her? Had he brought her just to keep him company, or did she have a role to play?
As if reading her thoughts, Makros looked at her and added, "Don't worry, there will be plenty of good times while we're here."
Leila wasn't sure how to respond to that. Good times didn't exactly match the description of what she was experiencing.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Aesthetique Solestrides.
The following morning, Leila got into the back of Makros' limo, going with him to his shoe company. She rested her head on the window, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep.
Makros looked at her, seeing how subdued she was.
"Something wrong?" he asked, his tone soft but laced with interest.
Leila sighed before answering, her voice almost a whisper. "I couldn't sleep. Not after seeing your late wife's room."
Makros kept his gaze on her, surprised at her reaction. "I did not think that it would move you so deeply," he breathed. "Don't worry, the room will be cleared upon our return."
Leila did not turn her gaze away from the window. "It is not important whether or not the room is cleared," she breathed. "But I do feel for you. what my family has done to you."
Makros' expression softened to a look of shock. "Yeah, me too," he replied bluntly.
The remainder of the ride was quiet. Leila dozed in and out of wakefulness, her body fighting against exhaustion, until she eventually succumbed to the fatigue and slept soundly.
Makros watched her face while she slept, noticing the serenity, near-angelic expression she bore. But underneath all that beauty, he knew there was a tempest wrapped in flames awaiting to break through.
The car stopped, and Leila opened her eyes. She blinked for a moment in confusion, and then quickly reviewed her location. They were there.
Before them stood a massive building, sleek and modern, climbing up against the Athenian skyline. There were laborers atop it, some repairing it, others painting it with white paint. The company was still recovering from the fire.
They exited the car and Leila gazed up at the giant letters plastered on the face of the building.
She tried to read it again, narrowing her eyes, willing herself to focus. But the letters blurred and shifted. She tried to pronounce it aloud, but only a stutter came out.
Makros was watching her closely. "Aesthetique Solestrides," he said, his voice steady. "You're struggling to read it?"
Leila paused, her throat tightening. "I have. dyslexia," she muttered.
His gaze didn't waver. A slow realization crossed his face, though he said nothing right away. Instead, he looked up at the sign himself, then exhaled through his nose. "We'll change it."
Leila blinked. "What?"
