Revelations of His Runaway Bride

‘Demetri has the same mother. Or have your forgotten that convenient fact? Watch your back, Father.’

‘I can ruin Christo and you with him. Don’t think it’s beneath me.’

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think anything’s beneath you. You’d eat from the gutter if it advantaged you.’

‘Careful, Thea. You want money and privilege? I’ll take all of this away if you don’t do what I ask.’

She laughed. The deluded man thought he had the power of God. ‘How can you take it? You’d never have sold me off to anyone who wasn’t richer than Croesus.’

‘Christo hasn’t told you anything?’

Tito’s eyes widened, and his smile morphed into one of pure evil. What was he planning?

A terrible chill slid through her. ‘I don’t under—’

Her father looked over her shoulder. ‘Here’s your brother to talk some sense into you.’

A shadow loomed behind her. Her father’s words could slice like a dagger, but Demetri inflicted real pain. From pulling her hair as a child, he had progressed, unchecked by a father who didn’t care about the little girl who was a constant reminder of the wife who’d left him.

Demetri’s hand clamped tight on her arm. ‘Sense? She’s a disgrace.’

‘Don’t touch me!’

But no one would notice. She was on her own. These men had perfected sleight of hand, could hurt in ways which would never be seen.

‘Have you looked at her back, Father? She’s displaying a monstrosity.’ Demetri leaned down to hiss in her ear. ‘I suspected you were cheap, but you’ve outdone yourself.’

He pulled her around slyly, so no one would notice. He was clever that way. Her arm burned in his tight grip. But she wouldn’t let him see her fear. She never had.

‘How could your husband allow you to deface yourself?’ her father spat.

She wrenched her arm from Demetri’s crushing fingers. He’d never touch her again—not if she could help it. Thea drew herself up to face them, proudly displaying her tattoos—the symbols of her ultimate freedom. Even Christo had recognised that.

Christo.

He was cutting through the crowd. Purpose etched on his face. Eyes hard. Mouth a thin, cruel line. Looking as if he was ready to draw blood as his gaze slid from her father to Demetri. Blind fury from this man who always seemed implacable.

Her heart beat a little faster as he shouldered through his guests.

‘You can ask me yourself.’

Christo’s eyes were focused on her. She forgot everything, lost in his hot green gaze. Forgot the hatred tightening in her belly, the burning of her arm where Demetri’s fingers had been.

Her father watched him, took a step back and plastered on his usual fake smile. ‘An excellent party, Christo. It does Atlas Shipping’s history great justice.’

Tito Lambros played the charming man well. She knew better. He might sound warm and interested. She could feel the strike of cold steel underneath.

Christo pushed between her and Demetri, towering over the men in her family.

‘Are you troubling Thea?’

No niceties from her husband. His voice was stark and brutal. He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close.

‘Someone needs to keep her under control,’ said Demetri.

Christo turned to her brother and pinned him with a withering look. ‘What are you afraid of, Demetri? That if you let Thea be herself she’ll outwit you? I’m sorry to say she already has.’

‘She’s making a mockery of us—displaying herself in t