Vengeance (COMPLETED)

Part 14

"I appreciate the offer. I do," I respond. "I just don't think it's right for me."

"You don't have to answer," Atticus adds. "The position is open for you. If you ever change your mind, the offer will still stand."

"Thanks," I smile, but I still can't see it working out.

"You'd seriously chose the city over the beach?" Angelis quizzes. "They don't have sunsets out there like they do here."

"That's true," I give him. They are unusually beautiful here. I'm surprised to see the sun still out when we finish our dinner. It's low in the skyline, the orange glow reflecting off the ocean. A light shade of pink fills the sky, a few stars already showing their face. With the gentle breeze in my hair, I feel like I'm on vacation. A very dangerous vacation. Atticus and I stroll back to the boat, listening to the sound of waves crashing into the sand and birds make their way to their nests.

"I'm sorry for my brother," Atticus breaks the silence between us.

"Which one?" I look up at him. If the heels I tried on before we left weren't so painful on my feet, I'd almost be level with him.

"Santos," he says. "Angelis is always inappropriate, but Santos shouldn't keep bringing up business when you've already made it clear where you stand."

"It's okay. I can see the appeal. It's very generous."

"But it's not what you want in life."

"No, but he is right. It's true, I have more chance of living the life I want here than back home."

Home. It doesn't even feel like home. My life there is gone. No family, no friends, no career, no degree — at least not the one I wanted. I have been living in denial, making the best of what I have without protest. I have to accept that I'll never be a high-flying New York City lawyer. Two options remain; either I can return to the US and make do in a small law firm where I'll inevitably come to feel unsatisfied and most likely grow to resent, or I can stay here, living a life people only dream of, that feels like a holiday every single day but doesn't stop me from doing what I love. The answer is obvious, except for the fact that the latter would mean giving up everything I've come to know to do illegal work for a crime syndicate. I wouldn't worry about getting arrested or going to jail. Taking down a mafia family is almost impossible to do. What worries me is the ethics and the moral implications. I don't know this place. I don't know how they operate or how safe I would actually be. This family's enemy, the Sokolov family, is right around the corner. Wouldn't I be better off just heading back home and staying out of all this?

Atticus and I step onto the boat and sit down on the bench. We take off, slowly drifting back over to the main island. It's strange to think they travel everywhere by boat, but it's the norm for them.

"Living here is easy," Atticus says. "We live in our own world, secluded from everyone. We set our own rules and follow our own laws. It's a great way to live. But it can also be isolating. If you don't have something to stimulate you, it can drive you nuts."

"I don't have to worry about being stimulated," I tell him. My thoughts are more than enough to keep me occupied.

"I can tell," Atticus chuckles. "You're always thinking of your next move."

"I guess so," I smile, matching his energy.

"Have you ever thought about doing something other than law?"

"Not really, no. Both my parents were lawyers. I always assumed I'd follow them. What about you? Have you ever considered doing something else?"

"I used to, back when my father was still in charge. I never wanted to work for him."

"What would you have done instead?"

"Probably still something in business — nothing exciting."

"It's not too late."

"No, I couldn't do that now. I like how we live. We do things on our own terms."

"I don't even really know what you do."

"A little bit of everything, but mostly planning and strategising. At the moment, I'm in charge of this project to get rid of Vassilis. I make sure our men know the plan and can execute it. I'm responsible for things not going well or people getting injured."

"I'm sorry about that, by the way," I say. His words remind me of the men I harmed fighting to get away from them. He catches on straight away. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I was just..."

"You were scared," he responds. "It's okay. No one blames you for that."

"Was anyone seriously hurt?"

"Everyone's fine," he assures me. "I apologise for how things went that day, too. I can only imagine how terrifying it must've been."

"It's okay. It could've been worse if you weren't so patient with me."

At the time, I considered him the devil incarnate, but looking back on it now, he was compassionate and kind. He let me panic and freak out. He let me try to escape. He didn't get frustrated at me — not once. He stayed calm. He comforted me when I injured my ankle and never held anything I did against him. I've slowly started to see him in a new light.

He looks gorgeous right now, with the sun setting in the background. He's always been attractive, but never enough to undermine my distrust of him. The distrust is gone now. Under any other circumstances — if we'd met at a bar or at work or in college — I'd make a move. But we're not and I can't. There truly isn't anything worse I could do right now. It's just the wine clouding my thoughts.

"What?" he smirks, catching me looking at him. I already have the perfect excuse lined up.

"There was a fly in your hair. It's gone now."

He nods his head. He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket. I turn away from him, checking to see how far we are from the island. I need to get off this boat ASAP.