Silent Eyes

40, Family Turmoil

"Are you even listening?" the woman asked. Andreas lowered his phone to face her. Despite being on a date with a stunning model with dark skin, green eyes, and long curls, Andreas couldn't shake off his boredom.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. The woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I asked, are you even listening?"

No, he hadn't. Instead, he slumped back while mindlessly scrolling on his phone. In truth, he found himself stalking Monica's Instagram since she hadn't looked or spoken to him in a while. Regret lingered as he reflected on losing his temper, cussing her out, and even calling her a slut. Monica wasn't deserving of such words; she was the mother of his little princess, Selene, and the only woman who could make his heart flutter.

He let out a deep breath, placing the device down. "Sorry." The remainder of the date unfolded in the usual manner, with the model chatting away, and Andreas looking like he might doze off at any moment. The puzzling question lingered in his mind-why had he even invited this woman out to dinner?

They had first met at the club. After finishing a business deal, he was slipping through the crowd when he accidentally bumped into her. Soon, she was caressing him, whispering into his ear, and he held onto her ass while playing along. That night led to sex, and today he had one of his men drive her here for a date. However, Andreas was no longer interested, and he could only assume he invited her because she somewhat resembled Monica.

Both women shared black ethnicity, curvy figures, and curly hair, but the current woman lacked the charisma that made Monica equivalent to an angel. In Monica's absence, Andreas realized how sweet she was-always checking up on him, cracking witty jokes, or kissing him whenever she felt like it. He genuinely missed her.

Unable to resist, he pulled out his phone to scroll. Photos of Monica with Selene surfaced, both smiling as Monica carried her. There were additional snapshots of Monica walking alongside Roy, sporting his stupid sunglasses, tightening Andreas' jaw. Finally, he stumbled upon a photo of Monica in a sexy dress with the caption, "date night." His eyes lingered on this image.

She had dolled herself up, her hair sleek and straight, adorned in a tempting purple dress paired with white heels. It had been too long since he had seen her in such attire, and it left him craving the woman. Suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts as someone cleared their throat. Andreas looked up, and there she was-the model, arms crossed, with a disgruntled look.

"When are you going to put down your phone and pay me the attention I deserve?" she said, frowning.

Andreas paused, taking in her frustration. Even though she looked nothing like Monica, the way her nose would crunch up reminded him of her. Lowering the phone, he smirked. "I'm sorry, beautiful. You deserve all my attention and respect." The woman's eyes widened in surprise, but she kept her mouth shut, crossing her arms. "Hmph, you don't have to tell me," she frowned. "Because I already know this." Now she was acting like a brat, which did irk Andreas a bit, but he maintained his sly smirk.

Just like their encounter at the club, they were passionately kissing. The woman had undressed, and now she was helping Andreas slip out of his shirt. The atmosphere was heated and intense between them as Andreas slowly guided her down onto the bed. She laid back, her eyes fixed on him, playfully biting her lip.

"Are you ready to take me?" she teased.

But right as Andreas was about to unzip his pants, his phone started ringing. He frowned, rolled off her, and answered the call. "Τι είναι αυτό?" he said. Andreas walked around the room, tending to the call. Meanwhile, the woman sat up, huffing out, "Are you serious?" she sneered. Andreas paused, told the caller to wait, and met the woman's gaze. "What?" he frowned.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, and with a dramatic arm gesture, she exclaimed, "Seriously? We're in the middle of something important. Can't that call wait?" She gasped as Adrien, unfazed, continued with the call. Growing more furious, she rose from the bed, stormed toward him, and decisively snatched the phone from his hand. "Fine, if you won't end it, then I will."

But before she could answer the phone, Andreas abruptly slapped her in the face! Hair flying, she ducked, shooting him an incredulous look. "Did you just hit me?" she gasped, her nose now bleeding. Andreas, his calm demeanor shattered, glared intensely with wide eyes and clenched teeth. "Get the hell out," he hissed. When she hesitated, he balled up his fist and delivered a vicious kick! She crashed to the floor, fear in her eyes, as he snarled, "Don't make me do it again. Get the hell out of here!"

Suddenly, her bratty behavior disappeared. She hurriedly got up, picking up her clothes from the floor, and rushed out, slamming the door behind her. Andreas needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn't fond of laying hands on women, but sometimes a lesson seemed necessary. Then he remembered Monica, the last woman he had hurt. He had shattered her fingers, leading to a bandaged hand. It wasn't a lesson she needed...

Shaking his guilt, Adrien picked up the phone and answered, "Ναί?"

Emil sounded more anxious than ever. "Andreas, you need to come back, it's urgent!" This caught Andreas' attention, and he leaned in, asking, "What is it?" Emil swallowed before answering, "That dumb girl got drunk. She crashed into a hospital and is talking to the police." Andreas frowned, trying to understand. "Who?" he asked. "Emil, speak slowly. Who's the person you're talking about?" Finally, Emil answered, "That bitch, Lena!"

Lena Alekseev was Andreas' stepsister, also known as Katrina's daughter-the bat-shit lunatic married to his father. Katrina was infamous for her promiscuity and love for chaos, traits seemingly inherited by her daughter, Lena. Andreas pinched his eyebrows together and sighed. "What is she saying?" he demanded. Emil snorted, growing more annoyed. "The girl is ratting us out. She's trying to cooperate with the police to lessen her sentence since she killed somebody!"

This wasn't good for several reasons. Firstly, Lena was Katrina's daughter, and anyone trying to touch her would send Katrina into a frenzy. Secondly, given his father's intense obsession with Katrina, he would likely order Andreas to stand back and let him handle it. However, the major issue was that Lena knew the ins and outs of the Samaras Family, capable of spilling crucial details. If his father couldn't control his insane wife, how could he handle his equally insane stepdaughter? Andreas now had a throbbing headache.

Adding to the stress, his daughter Selene had an upcoming performance in two days. Despite the ongoing silence with Monica, he had promised to be there for his little princess. But this news was a lot to bear.

If it were some random person on the street, Andreas wouldn't care much. They wouldn't hold much weight in the eyes of the family, and what officer would believe them? However, Lena was a well-known associate of the Samaras Family, and whatever she had to say would be taken seriously not only by the surrounding officers but also by detectives and government officials. He had to fly back to Greece immediately!

Once the call ended, Andreas angrily tossed his phone at the wall, shattering it. Tugging at his hair, he took a deep breath and began packing. Now was not the time to throw a tantrum; he had things to fix.