Vengeance (Updating Weekly)

Part 29

Atticus pours us both a glass of wine. Our dinner is in the oven, keeping warm until we're ready to eat. It's something called moussaka. I haven't had it before, but it's apparently. Classic Greek dish. Atticus had the chef prepare it for us. I'm not sure if he even knows how to cook. I suppose he doesn't have to. He knows how to steer a boat, though. He's brought us to a halt deep in the ocean, the island we left from a mere spot in the distance.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you but I haven't really found the right time," I hate to ruin the mood, but this has been playing on my mind all day. I shouldn't have agreed to be in a relationship without discussing this first.

"This sounds important," he raises his brows expectantly.

"It's not that big a deal. It's just..." I don't know how to say this. "I want to stay here, but I would still like to go to Harvard one day, or at least try — hopefully soon. Would you be okay with that? I wouldn't want to end things with you but I don't know if you'd be okay with a long-distance relationship."

"I'd just go with you," he shrugs casually. "I think it's a great idea — to still go to Harvard. I'd support you in any way I could."

"You'd go with me?"

"Of course," he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "If things are going well between us, I don't see why I wouldn't. We have a division there. I could still work."

"Are you serious?"

"I'd go with you anywhere you wanted to go."

"Atticus!" I can't fight the smile on my face, but my words are stern. "Why did you want me to make a decision before we got together if you could've just come to America with me?"

"Because the decision wasn't just about where you wanted to live, it was about you being a part of this world. There would be no point in us being together if you were then to decide you wanted nothing to do with us. You had to make that choice independently of me."

"God, I feel so relieved," I laugh. His explanation makes sense. It was the right thing to do, but I still spent all day stressing about this. "I was worried you'd say no, and everything between us would be ruined."

"Ruined?" he chuckles. "No, that's not possible. I wouldn't let something like that get between us."

My insides turn to mush. How could I be so lucky? I didn't know he could get any sweeter. He's just... perfect. It won't take long for me to fall for him. I can already see it coming.

"Have you thought about your future much?" I ask.

"Well..." he contemplates for a moment. "I used to a lot. I had clear goals and things I wanted to achieve, but a lot of that's been overshadowed by Vassilis now. Getting rid of him is my main goal."

"What about after that?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. There's always been something I've been working towards, and I've achieved most of them already. First, I wanted to work for the family, and I did that. Then, my brothers and I wanted to take over from him, and we did that. I wanted to run our manage our business strategy, and I did that. Now, I want Vassilis gone, and I'll make that work, too."

"What about outside of work? Did you ever want to study or travel or do anything like that?"

"I'd like to travel," he nods. "But other than that, my only other goal would be to settle down — get married and start a family."

"You want a family?"

"I do, yeah. A small family. I'd like to get married and move into my own home, and have a few kids."

"That's the expectation for you guys, isn't it?"

"It is," he nods. "But it's also something I want. Marriage is... well, it's non-negotiable for me. And not like my dad did and re-marry every 5 years. I want to get married once and build a life with that person."

"I like that," I smile. He may have seen his father behave that way, but he knew his father was an outliner. I've spent enough time with Catarina to know that it's a tradition in both Greek and Italian mafia families to have a strong woman in charge. They expect their leader to marry if not for love, then for the sake of the family. Vassilis did neither of those things.

"Would you ever want to get married?" Atticus asks. He speaks casually, but I can feel the weight of his words. He just said it himself — marriage is non-negotiable for him. If I didn't want to get married, there would be no point in us being here.

"I would, yeah," I smile. "To be honest, I thought I'd already be married by now. My parents got married young, and my mum would always tell me to get married before 25 so I'd have some time to travel with my partner before we'd start having kids, and then by the time they'd move out, I'd still be young enough to travel more."

"Your mum was smart," he laughs. "How come you haven't gotten married then?"

"I couldn't, really. My last serious relationship was before my mum died, and after that... I was busy with court hearings, and then I was in witness protection, so I had to hide who I was. There was no point in starting a relationship."

"Did you at least date?"

"I did, yeah, but I knew from the start it couldn't become anything serious," I respond. "How about you? Why haven't you gotten married yet?"

"I haven't really tried. I wouldn't want to be with someone outside of the family. I wouldn't want to bring them into this world. I've dated a few girls in the family, but it never worked out. I was always too busy working, and I struggled to prioritise them over the job," he meets my eyes. "That hasn't been a problem with you."

"I suppose I was the job for a while," I joke. He's not as amused.

"Does that bother you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've been involved in your life for a long time without you knowing. I've had to monitor you for years."

"It is strange," I admit. "But it doesn't bother me. You did it for a good reason. You couldn't have known we'd end up here. I mean, I'm not going to lie, I did get creeped out when I found you would've seen me going out with Jeremy."

"Oh, yes," he chuckles. "He seems like a great guy."

"You think? I'm sure he'd love to hear from me again," I tease.

"Please," he scowls. "He's got nothing on me."

"It's true, he doesn't," I confess. Atticus doesn't respond. He eyes me intently, his smile still on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're here," he brings my hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my skin. My stomach fills with butterflies.