Silent Eyes

43, The Lena Dilemma Pt. 2

Andreas stood outside, his arms crossed and his gaze sharp. Leaning against the car, time seemed to drag on endlessly. His side throbbed, still aching from the recent bullet wound. Emil was healing at home, and Tobias had attempted to take charge, but Andreas refused. He waited impatiently for the old witch to emerge and make her way to the police station, where her stupid daughter remained arrested.

Doubts about Katrina lingered in Andreas' mind. What if she enters the station, shedding false tears and spinning lies about the Samaras Family holding her and her daughter captive? Lena's car crash would then be twisted into an escape attempt. Andreas could grease palms with bribes, but suspicion would still linger, and the authorities would be hot on his trail. He couldn't afford that, especially with his precious daughter around. Reporters would swarm, hounding Monica and thrusting microphones into little Selene's frightened face.

The door swung open, revealing Katrina and Andreas' father, Nikos. Andreas, however, wasn't focused on his old man. Dropping his arms, he directed his attention to Katrina. "Katrina, you're coming with me," he declared. Nikos stepped in, holding her back and glaring. "Andreas, she's my wife. I think I can give her a ride, thank you very much." Snorting, Andreas tried to stay composed. "Does it look like I give a... well, you know." He spat, locking eyes with Katrina. "Get in the car!"

Nikos advanced, facing off with his son. Tension hung heavy, the air thick and hot, with the guards on edge, anticipating a brawl. "You don't tell my wife what to do!" Nikos snarled. "How dare you talk to your stepmother like that!" Andreas closed the distance, their noses practically touching. "I never forgot about that time you showed up to my wife, unannounced. I spared you then because she was there," he whispered, his voice dropping. "But I should've strangled you right then and there."

Once again, silence enveloped the scene. Nikos cast a glance at his son's tightly clenched fists, veins coursing through his arms, an aura of lethal tension surrounding him. Without a word, Andreas forcefully brushed past his father, words cutting through the stillness. "You can't control your wife, and you can't control that damn daughter of yours. What makes you think you can control me?" He nodded towards the car. "I'm not saying it again, Katrina. Μπες στο γαμημένο αυτοκίνητο."

Ignoring Nikos, Katrina slipped into the back seat, nonchalantly placing her purse down and clicking her tongue. "Wow, you made my dear husband shut up for once." She tilted her head curiously. "And say, I never met this wife of yours. Is she really as pretty as the others say?" Andreas shot her a glare, and Katrina hiccuped, quickly shutting her mouth. The car veered off, leaving his father behind. Andreas glanced at the rearview mirror, watching him slowly fade away. It felt like the first time he had truly overpowered the man.

As they drove away, Andreas closed his eyes, pinching his eyebrows together. "Let's cut to the chase," he breathed out. "I don't trust you." His gaze turned lethal as he stared at Katrina. "But I want you to break my trust so I can finally have an excuse to kill you." Katrina's red lips formed a smirk. "Killing me would draw in more suspicion, wouldn't it?" She lifted an eyebrow, and Andreas rolled his eyes, turning away. Much as he despised her, she wasn't entirely wrong.

Katrina reached out, playfully patting his arm. Andreas flinched away with sheer disgust, but Katrina paid it no mind. "Relax," she said. "I mean my word! I'll have Lena shut her mouth! That way, you can go about your business, and I can go about mine." She smiled, gazing fondly at her red leather purse, worth maybe a million. Andreas focused on her for a moment before turning his attention to the passing buildings outside. "And may God be looking over for you because the Devil is lurking close," he muttered.

The car pulled up outside the station. Katrina sauntered out, her long nails dangling as she blew kisses at Andreas. With a flick of her hair, she disappeared inside, leaving Andreas in tense silence, his heart pounding. Whatever Katrina was up to in there, it had better involve convincing Lena to keep quiet and accept her sentence. Andreas had struck a deal with officials to secure Lena a more lenient prison term, but if she talked, all bets were off. She'd end up living in fear under protective custody as Andreas and his men haunt her down.

He sat in silence, his gaze fixed on the building as the seconds ticked by. Time seemed to swirl around him, and though Andreas hated to admit it, nerves crept in. Finally, Katrina emerged, grinning widely. Andreas sat up, hoping she had managed to sway the situation, but she burst into laughter, pointing at him. "Look at your face!" she chortled. "You look like someone just molested you!" Katrina doubled over, clutching her stomach with laughter, while Andreas growled. "Get over here!"

She walked over and stopped outside the window, her lips still mischievous. "What did you say?" Andreas demanded, a hint of pleading in his tone. Katrina breathed out, nonchalant. "I told her she's dead to me if she talks. Advised her to accept the sentence or you'll kill her. She shed a few tears," Katrina shrugged, appearing unfazed, but Andreas sensed a pause in her eyes. "Anyway, she retracted everything and even begged me to tell you to forgive her. If possible, send her to a luxurious spot, like the beach where no one will notice or say a thing."

Andreas snorted at the suggestion. "You and your daughter sure are some spoiled brats," he remarked. Leaning back against the seat, he started rolling up the window. Katrina's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Lena isn't going to some damn beach," he hissed. "She's going to the prison I requested. But I'll give you my word, she's safe." The window closed shut, and the car rolled away, leaving Katrina to gasp and angrily stomp a foot. "Don't you fucking leave me here!" she shouted.

Andreas turned away, cutting Katrina out, focusing back on himself. With the situation clarified, it felt like a weight had lifted, allowing him to breathe again. He closed his eyes, silently expressing gratitude to whoever-whether God or the Devil-had assisted him. Crossing his arms, he instructed the driver to turn down the AC; it was getting a bit chilly inside.

He reopened his eyes and reached for his phone, intending to check on Monica and see how she was doing. However, he hesitated. An engagement? He clicked into her recent story to find her squealing, showcasing a sparkly but cheap ring to the camera. Monica then looked up at Roy, giving him a light kiss on the lips. Roy had proposed, and she had said yes. This meant she was walking away from him, taking Selene right along with her, leaving Andreas behind in the dust. His heart cracked a bit, and his throat tightened with emotions.

This woman had actually managed to break his heart.

Andreas was on his way back home when he suddenly spoke up. "Head towards the nearest airport," he ordered. The driver hadn't heard him and frowned, asking, "Excuse me, sir? I didn't hear you." That's when Andreas lost his temper, tossing his phone toward the back of the man's head. The device cracked against his skull, and the driver was left with specks of blood on his hand. "ΑΕΡΟΔΡΟΜΙΟ!" Andreas snapped. Soon, the driver tightened his grip on the steering wheel and made a swift turn, causing a distraction in the traffic. Meanwhile, Andreas leaned back in his seat.

He was livid. How could she agree to be with another man? And one with a cheap ring at that? The ring seemed like it was worth ten bucks from the nearest gas station, yet she was practically ecstatic over it. Wasn't his ring, the glittering diamond with tiny pink stones, sufficient? It was genuine gold, with his initials carved inside and a tiny heart. What made Roy's fake glass ring so damn special? It was nothing compared to Andreas'.

And Roy didn't deserve Monica's hand in marriage. Andreas was flying straight back to the states to reclaim what was rightfully his-his wife!