Silent Eyes

3, Across the Aegean

Stepping out onto the beach, Monica squinted as the sun blared in her eyes. The crowded shoreline was filled with people playing in the water while birds soared overhead. The sky was a clear blue, and the humid wind brushed against her curls, evoking a calm smile. However, her smile quickly faded as she realized Andreas was nowhere to be seen.

Andreas had texted her to meet him at the scene, and checking the time, she realized she wasn't late. Confused, she scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of him. Eventually, she decided to send Andreas a quick text, but before she could, a deep voice interrupted her. "Ms. Monica?"

Monica turned to find a tall man with a stoic face and an intimidating presence standing beside her. Taken aback, she swallowed nervously and replied, "Yes?" The man spoke, "Mr. Samaras apologizes for being late. He went to get the boat and instructed me to pick you up." He looked at Monica, waiting for her approval.

Reluctant to follow a complete stranger and uncertain about who Mr. Samaras was, Monica hesitated. Just then, her phone chimed, and she glanced down. Andreas had sent her a text that read, "Relax. He's my trustworthy guard; that man won't harm you."

Feeling reassured, Monica relaxed and faced the man. "Okay," she breathed. "Let's go." They began walking together through the festive crowd, and Monica looked around for Andreas. Since he had sent that message, he must be somewhere close by. However, she couldn't spot him, which struck her as odd.

Monica and Andreas' guard strolled along the beach and reached a boardwalk. Straight ahead, a luxurious yacht bobbed gracefully in the sparkling water. Monica stopped and pointed at it, asking, "You want me to get on that?" The man nodded, and Monica fell silent.

She had never been on a boat before, and the thought of it crashing made her nervous, especially since she didn't know how to swim. Nevertheless, she had to get on board. Standing there in hesitation wouldn't help. Just as she took a step forward, she was interrupted by that familiar Greek accent.

"Monica, I'm so sorry!" Andreas exclaimed as he stepped off the boat, wiping his hands with a towel. He paused, observing her. "Are you okay, darling? You look pale and nervous." Monica faced him and forced a smile. "I'm alright!" But he shook his head, approaching her. He lifted her in his strong arms and carried her over to the boat.

Monica gasped, her hand touching his chest, and she quickly pulled away, apologizing, "I'm so sorry!" Andreas chuckled and gently set her down. "It's alright to be nervous; the water used to make me nervous too," he said, admiring her beauty. "But soon, you'll come to love it and want to explore more of the Aegean Sea."

"Is that where we are?" Monica whispered in awe. Andreas stood tall, towering over her. "Yes, and I, your special tour guide, will show you the magnificent sea!" With that, he dismissed his intimidating guard and began tending to the ropes.

Shortly after, they glided along the crystal blue waters. Andreas gazed straight ahead, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Leaning against the railing together, he turned to Monica with a beaming smile. "So, tell me something about yourself," he said. Monica blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. "I'm not sure if you'd be interested," she chuckled. "I'm kind of a boring person."

But Andreas turned to face her directly, his brow slightly furrowed. "Don't say that. I'm sure there's something remarkable about you," he reassured her. Monica scratched her head and redirected her focus to the water. "Well, I work as a cook at my aunt's restaurant. Oh, and my dad is a retired police officer!" she chimed in.

Andreas smiled, though it faltered for a moment when she mentioned her father. "That's interesting," he hummed. "What do you enjoy most about cooking?" He moved closer, and Monica caught a whiff of his enticing cologne. "It calms my nerves," she began to explain. "And when I cook, it's fulfilling to see people enjoy my food. My mom taught me when I was young."

Leaning in, Andreas beamed. "It seems you're far from boring," he said. Monica laughed, and he joined in. As they settled down, his expression turned serious. "But please believe me, you're not a boring woman. I find it delightful that you have a passion for cooking. Have you ever considered opening your own business?"

Monica bit her lip, sensing a reaction from Andreas. "Well, it's just expensive," she sighed. "And I don't have the funds. But if I did, without a doubt, I would open my own restaurant and serve as many people as I'd like!" She continued to share her dream, and Andreas watched her affectionately.

The way her dimples appeared, how she covered her mouth when she laughed, and the light in her eyes as she passionately described her aspirations made Andreas desire her even more. When she finished, she cringed and said, "Oops, I talk too much, don't I?"

"No," he shook his head. "I was listening, and I truly hope you can open a restaurant someday. Who knows, maybe I'll be your number one customer." He winked, causing Monica to blush and hide her face. A gust of wind blew, and Monica quickly adjusted her dress, not wanting Andreas to see anything inappropriate.

She was swift, and Andreas chuckled. If he caught a glimpse of her exposed ass, he might not be able to control himself. Moving towards the seating area, he asked, "Are you hungry? Maybe you could critique my cooking, Monica." She adjusted her dress and playfully plopped down in the seat. Andreas stood over her with his arms crossed, and she caught a glimpse of his dark tattoos beneath his sleeve. Soon, he disappeared to fetch the food, leaving her curious about the artwork on his arms.

He returned with a plate of food, and Monica pointed at his arm. "What is that?" Andreas looked down at his tattooed arm and smirked. "You have a keen eye." Monica chuckled, leaning back. "Well, with a dad who's a police officer, you tend to notice things." Andreas joined her at the table, rolling up his sleeve.

Monica was met with his muscular arm, the veins running up to his hands. She noticed a small trident that seemed out of place amidst the skulls and other intimidating tattoos on his skin. "This," he said, laughing a bit, "was a big mistake." Monica's eyes widened, and she asked, "What do you mean?"

Andreas let his arm drop. "I lost a bet back then, and one of my idiot friends tattooed me. He promised it would look great, but it turned out really bad." He shook his head, looking at the tattoo. That's when Monica asked, "Why don't you just cover it up?" Andreas paused, a flicker of pain crossing his face as he rolled down his sleeve.

"He passed away, and this is the only thing I have to remember him by."

"Oh..." Monica said, stepping back. "I'm sorry to hear that." Silence fell, interrupted only by the sound of the moving water. Eventually, Monica faced him. "I'm sure he's laughing at you from above." They both looked up at the puffy clouds, and Andreas smiled. "More like from hell," he joked. Confused, Monica turned to him, but he changed the topic, rising from his seat. "Have you ever considered living here?"

Monica gazed out at the breathtaking surroundings. She took in the distant mountains, the fishermen returning with their day's catch, and the radiant sun. Santorini appeared magnificent, but an unsettling sense of uncertainty weighed on her. "I don't know," she lightly shrugged. "I've never really thought about moving to another country before."

She turned to find Andreas intensely looking at her. His arms eventually dropped, and he smirked. "Maybe that will change? Who knows, the future always brings unexpected surprises." Monica nodded, although she still felt unsure.

Time passed, and the sky transformed into a dusky shade of pink. Andreas noticed the approaching darkness and sighed. "Looks like I have to return the beautiful princess to her castle." He walked over to the wheel, steering the boat back to the shore. Monica stood beside him, watching his strong, steady hands maneuver the vessel. "Who taught you how to sail a boat?"

The man glanced down at her over his shoulder. "My father." And just like that, the conversation ended. It seemed that Andreas didn't want to delve into his past, and Monica didn't want to push him for more details. "Oh, okay," was all she said.

During the journey back, Monica couldn't shake her curiosity about Andreas. He seemed charming and pleasant on the outside, but there was an undeniable air of mystery surrounding him.