Hidden Truths (Truths and Lies 1)

We are greeted by two pretty flight attendants who hand us each a glass flute filled with champagne and welcome us on board. The captain and co-captain also introduce themselves and let us know we’ll be taking off shortly. As we walk through the plane, I am stunned by the extravagance and luxury that fills the inside. Gray leather seats line the entire left side with a large flat screen television hanging on the wall. The right side has several recliners with glossy mahogany tables separating them. If it weren’t for the circular windows, I would think I was standing inside an expensive apartment.

“If you need to take a shower or wish to take a nap, there’s a bedroom and full bathroom in the back,” one of the attendants informs us, and my jaw drops. There’s an entire bedroom on this plane?

“Phoenix,” I hiss, pulling him to the side. “There’s no way Dad can afford this.”

“I already told you it’s on loan.” The way he says it sends a shiver racing down my spine.

“Nobody loans something like this for free! He couldn’t even afford the home we grew up in anymore and had to sell it!” Something is going on here…

Just as Phoenix is about to say something, the captain comes over the intercom and asks that we have a seat and buckle in since we’ll be taking off in five minutes. “The skies are clear, and the flight to Heraklion will be four hours and nine minutes.”

“Heraklion?” I shriek. “Isn’t that in…Crete?”

Phoenix sits on one of the leather couches and nods. “Yes, have a seat.”

“No! I thought you were taking me to Thessaloniki. What the hell is going on?” My eyes find the door where we came from and see it’s already shut.

“You can’t leave,” Phoenix says, reading my thoughts. “They’re not going to open it now. We’re about to take off. So, please, just sit.”

“First tell me why we’re going to Crete.”

Phoenix sighs. “Dad is visiting with the Demetrious, a family he does business with. They own the ports Dad rents from. He’s requested for us to come and join them.”

I drop onto my seat with a huff. I can tell by the way Phoenix is answering my questions, he either doesn’t know much or he’s purposely being vague. Either way, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know whatever is going on can’t be good.

Once upon a time, my mom said our dad used to be successful, but greed got to him, and little by little he got in over his head. Every time I visit him, his homes get smaller. His clothes become more ragged. The restaurants we go to aren’t as expensive. He’s sold his yacht and no longer has a driver. Instead, he drives a cheap American car.

He always tells me it’s just a minor setback and everything is going to be okay, but I’ve learned over the years, my dad is a pathological liar. I’ve begged him to get out of whatever he’s in, but he won’t. I don’t know exactly what he does for a living, or what Phoenix does by his side, but I’ve overheard my grandfather and mom talking enough to know whatever they’re doing isn’t exactly legal.

“You know this can’t be good, right?”

Phoenix doesn’t agree or disagree. “Why don’t you take a nap in the bedroom? I imagine you’ve had a long day.”

We arrive in Crete four hours later, and waiting for us is a black limo. I took Phoenix up on his suggestion and slept the entire flight, so now I’m wide awake. Should be a fun, sleepless night… The drive to wherever we’re going takes about an hour. I text Alex to let him know I’ve arrived safely, and he texts back he’ll call me once he’s settled in Chicago.

Because it’s almost midnight, everything is dark outside, making it hard to see. It’s not until we pull up to a large wrought iron gate, which reads Pérasma Hotel & Villas, that I can finally make out what’s around us. As the limo drives down the windy road, I take in my surroundings. Palm trees line each side of the road until we get to the front of the hotel. My God, it’s gorgeous! The entire front is lit up with soft honey-colored lights. The split-level buildings are white and sleek with large picture windows. It’s the perfect combination of chic and contemporary.

The driver opens my door and helps me out, and the first thing I smell is the salt water. We must be near the beach.

“It’s late,” Phoenix says, eyeing his phone. “I’ve been told there are rooms waiting for us, and we’ll meet up with Dad in the morning.”

“I don’t have clothes,” I remind him as we step up to the front desk.

“Good evening,” a brown-haired petite woman says sweetly. “You must be Talia and Phoenix Nikolaides.”