Chapter One
Siren Song
August 2012, Santorini, Greece…
Seated on a lounger near the edge of the walled terrace, Rapheus Giannopoulos nursed his glass of Assyrtiko, and half-listened as Dimitris and four other friends––Theo, Vasilis, Leon, and Nikko––reminisced about their childhood growing up together in Oía. In Greece for his annual summer visit to his family’s Santorini estate, Raph hooked his thumb into the pocket of his tailored, sky-blue linen trousers, and let his gaze drifted across the crescent-shaped caldera.
It was minutes before sunset, and the evening sun cast the island’s white-washed buildings and blue domed churches in warm, honeyed light. The sight never failed to stir nostalgia for the home he’d left behind eighteen years ago. Every street, every stone pathway, even the air was laced with bittersweet memories––learning to swim in the Aegean Sea, listening to his grandfather’s stories while his grandmother wove grapevines into baskets, his mother calling them in for supper, and his father’s hand on his shoulders as they walked the family’s two centuries-old vineyard, explaining that it would all belong to him and his brothers one day.
How could any of them have known how drastically their lives would change?
He’d only arrived on the island this morning. Usually, he’d be in his grandfather’s garden, sitting on the same wrought-iron furniture they’d used when he was a boy, telling his pappoús about his latest development project at G3, beginning that summer’s 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle, or innocently gossiping about his brothers ahead of their arrival next week. But a chance run-in with Dimitris Kotsakis at the airport this morning had gotten in the way of tradition.
Dimitris had been at the airport to pick up his cousin, Anna, who had just completed a short internship in Athens. Anna’s flight was late, giving Dimitris plenty of time to convince Raph to come to a party at his place tonight.
He hadn’t wanted to leave his pappoús on his first night back, but the old man had insisted he go out and catch up with his friends. Now, as he surveyed the constant flow of guests moving between the living room and the terrace, listened to the buzz of conversation, and breathed in the scent of oregano and grilled lamb drifting from the kitchen, Raph was glad he’d come.
“Remember when we used to race down to the beach?” Dimitris was saying now, gesturing toward the winding paths below. “And Raph always won. Every single time.”
“We’re triplets. We have the same legs! Why does he always win?”
They all laughed at Leon’s perfect delivery of Tele’s complaint, even down to Raph’s youngest brother’s body language and facial expression.
A peacemaker even at that age, Neo, the second youngest Giannopoulos brother, would tell Tele to just accept that Raph was faster than them, to which Tele would respond with his arms open wide, “But it’s not fair!”
As the group reminisced, Raph watched the wide grin on Dimitris’ face slowly fade, as though his trip down memory lane had finally brought him to the fork in the road––the moment they had all been taught one of life’s harshest lessons: its precariousness.
Dimitris shook his head. “Nothing was the same after you all left…after the accident.”
Silence settled among the six childhood friends.
Dimitris was right; nothing was ever the same after that year, especially for the Giannopouloses. But the day Raph’s father and grandmother were killed––the day his innocence was shattered, and his stoic, controlling nature began to take shape––was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.
He leaned forward, his muscular arms flexing as he reached across Dimitris’ lap for the bottle of wine at his feet. “Well, I wouldn’t say that nothing was the same.” He refilled his and Dimitris glasses before passing the Assyrtiko––a product of his own family’s vineyard––to Nikko on his right. “For starters, I’m sure Theo can still fit a few marbles up his nose.”
Leon nearly choked on his tiropitakia, laughter shaking his chest as he toppled into Vasilis, whose goose-like honk echoed over the terrace.
“Óchi, Raph,” Nikko began as he drained the contents of the bottle into his glass and reached for an unopened one from the glass topped table in the center of their circle. “That thing has grown so much since we were kids, he could probably fit a handful up there now.”
Everyone broke into unrestrained laughter as Nikko threw an arm around Theo, yanked him close, and kissed his cheek with exaggerated affection.
To anyone else, Nikko’s teasing might have stung, but Theo Simopoulos chuckled right along with his friends. Raph knew he had always been proud of the grand nose he’d inherited from his mother, who was a former Miss Hellas, and still a great beauty.
Raph was about to take a dig at Nikko’s greying temples to even the score for Theo, but his words caught in his throat when he glanced above Dimitris’ head. At the top of the stone steps leading from the living room down to the terrace, a woman stood in a sleeveless, floor-length silk dress, the fabric flowing gently with the evening breeze. She was breathtaking––her dress clinging provocatively to her slender, olive-toned frame, and her light brown hair cascading in lustrous, loose waves, capturing the last of the sun’s golden light.
At the sight of her, the din of the party faded to white noise. Raph held his breath as her dainty chin lifted, her eyes scanned the crowd, and his heart pounded in time with the pulsing house music spilling from the speakers.
Raph was sure he didn’t recognize her, but he certainly knew the wide-eyed brunette to her left. He hadn’t seen Anna Kotsakis, Dimitris’ cousin, in almost six years; the annoying little girl who used to follow him and his friends around the village when they were children had since grown into a curvaceous and beautiful woman—though her dark features still favored the men in her family.
“Hey.” Raph tapped Dimitris’ knee with the back of his hand. “Who’s that with Anna?”
Dimitris followed his gaze and grinned. “Ah, that’s Helena—her best friend. Anna met her at university in Athens.” He studied Raph’s face with growing amusement. “Why? You interested?”
Raph was thinking he’d never been more interested in anything in his life, but before he could respond, Dimitris stood and waved to his cousin. “Anna, apó edó!” he shouted, drawing her attention.
Anna’s smile widened at the sight of her cousin. She took hold of the mystery woman’s hand and led her down the steps and onto the terrace.
All of a sudden, Raph’s collar felt too tight and his palms grew sweaty as Anna and her friend walked toward them, the friend moving as gracefully as a Mediterranean swan gliding across the surface of a calm lake.
