And yes, he’d paid her the rent he promised but he still hadn’t managed to find another job. And though he made sure to sort out dinner, cleaning, and whatnot around the flat, he feared she was tiring of coming home to him every day.
“Perhaps you could call your former trillionaire boss and ask if he could refer you on to a new posting?” she’d suggested a few nights ago over the Japanese ramen he’d spent the entire afternoon preparing from scratch.
Max’s whole body had gone cold at just the thought of biomessaging or having any sort of contact with Damianos Drákon whatsoever. Would Drákon take his call? And if he did, what would happen if he asked Max to come back?
An illicit thrill had zipped down Max’s back at the thought. One that filled him with unease, even as he calmly answered, “It doesn’t work that way, Dy. He’s eccentric, isn’t he? Not the sort to give out references.”
“Well, perhaps you could biomessage him and ask anyway. ‘Make her say no before you give up’—that’s what Daddy always says.'”
“It’s doubtful he was talking about real business when he came up with that Essex gem.” Max hadn’t meant or wanted to snap, but that had been how his reply came out. “Besides Damianos Drákon isn’t the sort you ring up.”
“Then how did he get in contact with you in the first place? You could biomessage that number—”
“No, I can’t. Working for him is supposed to be enough. If I can’t get a job off that, it’s my fault.”
“That’s not true, babe.” Dyana’s eyes had been almost feverish with insistence. “Just contact him, why don’t you? Men like that can simply tell their cronies to hand you a job. It’d be easier than you think. Nearly all my #richkids friends think you should give it a try.”
“Is that what those privileged hashtags who’ve never had to secure a real job think I should do? Thanks for letting me know their opinions about my life.”
Again the fear and anger spoke for Max before he could choose wiser words. And it had been the exact wrong thing to say, given the situation.
He’d apologized profusely almost immediately after he said it, but the damage had been done. The next day, Dyana had gone out for drinks and dinner with the same #richkids friends after work instead of coming home to him.
“Won’t be home for dinner. Grand plans with the other #richkids,” she’d texted. “Know you wouldn’t want to come.”
That was why Max had put a massive effort into tonight’s dinner. No replicator junk. He’d made a proper roast with vegetables all around and sprays of rosemary topping everything like #masterchef. The place smelled mouthwatering by the time she arrived home.
But instead of asking after the delicious smell, Dyana had taken off the ring and placed it on the same counter where he’d been planning to set the roast when it came out of the oven.
She’d dropped her heart shattering bomb then, and though he shouldn’t be surprised, he was frozen into a stupor.
Shaking off his shock he asked, “What’s this all about?” Pretending as if he didn’t already know. Stalling for time as he tried to come up with an apology, a reassurance, or a promise greater than lifelong marriage to make her give him another chance.
Dyana looked down the ring she’d dropped on the counter then back up at him. “Your mother…she called me the other day. Did she tell you that?”
Max shook his head mutely. Of course, she hadn’t. Fiona said so little to him, he wouldn’t have even guessed she had Dyana’s number.
“She warned me…she warned me not to marry you. He’s a con artist, just like his father, she told me. She said she’d had your dad investigated after you returned so mysteriously and as it turned out, it wasn’t just your father and your grandfather who had run out on their wives. As far back as the detective could go, all the Kreft men had mysteriously disappeared. Usually, the day after they’d had a boy. She told me that was probably the only reason you’d come back.”
His heart shriveled at the accusation. “She said that at Sunday night dinner too. And you didn’t believe her then.”
“Yes, but her investigator turned up that your father and grandfather had both worked for members of the Drákon family. So you lied to me, didn’t you Max?”
Her voice was level but furious.
“No, I didn’t!” Max opened his mouth to tell her what really happened to him and his father and his father and all their fathers before that, the full story of his paternal line.
But the words refused to give rise in his throat. Trying to fly…shoes hitting pavement.
And at his silence, tears sprung into Dyana’s eyes. “I was so happy when you showed back up at my door. I believed your story. And I want to believe your mother’s mad, that she truly does have it all wrong. But everyone thinks I’m the mad one for allowing you back. No one believes your story except me. And two nights ago when you refused to so much as call the boss you’d abandoned me for in the middle of the night…”