Chapter 1
Calliope
I've never been one to follow the rules, they're here to be broken anyway. That was
why I was currently heading to the "Aphrodite", the new club that seemed to have blown the internet lately and happens to belong to my dear family. According to the reviews and comments, a very known barista happened to be part of the staff —who apparently did the best drinks and cocktails from all around the world that blew your mind.
I'm not technically allowed outside without one of my father's lapdogs following close behind ever since the incident, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t affect him. Not that he'd worry anyway.
Well not really expect if something happened to me, then a whole bunch of people would be concerned, and my father sadly figured on the top of that very -𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺- long list. But they can't do shit about it, so I lived my life, the way I fucking felt it. As long as I still could. And I planned for it to be for a very long time.
"Say hi to the camera Dav!" Exclaimed the over exited chick next to me. Sarah was . . . A high society spoiled brat. Not that I didn't act like one too, but my situation was overly different. Barely ten seconds after meeting her, I already knew that her father was the CEO and co-founder of 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘦. 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘱. Her mother is a housewife, but her job is to host parties, mostly charity balls for all women of their status; wealth is the key to such events where they show off the money they donate afterwards. I was pretty sure I could've written an essay about her if I actually payed attention to whatever bullshit comes out of her mouth. Sarah is your typical daddy's little girl with strawberry blond hair, and icy blue eyes.
As hard as it was to admit it, I think part of me was jealous of her bond with her father.
I faked a smile to the phone she was holding up, with her arm straight forward slightly tilting it to the side. When she ended recording, she replayed it over a hundred times before uploading it to her Instagram story. On her private account where over two thousand of just as spoiled kids that thought the whole world should be kissing their feet are now used to see me on a daily basis for about three years now. Sometimes she just sneaks in, takes a picture or a video, and goes away just like that. I always try as hard as possible to change my appearance, but I feel like her stories will one day be my downfall.
Although no one 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 recognised 𝘮𝘦, since I changed my name to my middle name, wore lenses to hide my family's signature green eyes I inherited, chopped and dyed my normally brown hair to a dirty blond with very light blue tips and some asymmetrical locks on the left side just for fun.
Well what was fun for me was a pact with the devil for my mother who didn't find the idea anywhere near as fun.
Her loss.
"We are here Miss Lane." The poor driver who was assigned to Sarah exclaimed looking at us through the front mirror, as he stepped out of the black shiny sedan Mercedes to open the back door.
"I'll call when we're out Jean." said the barbie that was just sitting next to me as she stepped out of the car first.
I adjusted my dress before stepping out accepting the hand 'Jean' was stretching to me, "Thank you Jack." I smiled softly at him.
His real name was Jack, but The barbie that's now walking in front of me in too high heels to admit, loved to call him Jean; because a french driver would be so much better for her image. Jack was one of the kindest person I've ever met, his hair was greying on the sides but his grin was so young and careless for the world; his aura somehow inspired safety. He apparently just became a grandfather, and showed me a few pictures of his first granddaughter, Emma.
The security man outside didn't even stop us as Sarah straight forward headed inside like she owned the place. If only she knew.
To be honest the nightclub lived to the expectations, it was beautiful With white leather booths surrounded the dancing area which was already buzzing. The atmosphere was quite good with an apparently good Dj, the lights a mix of blue, mauve and pink were just perfect for the club which was very big compared to my previous experiences.
Upstairs seemed calmer than here with the same white booths, but rectangularly shaped this time, the glass was see through from both sides which was perfect. I tended to get anxious when others could see me when I couldn't.
I felt vulnerable and I hated it.
Following Sarah who made a straight b-line to the bar, It felt like following a child the way she was stumbling sometimes on her heels. Looking at the cocktail menu, it seemed nice and I saw some I just had to try tonight.
"How can I help you beautiful?" The bartender asked me, a smirk on his face as he inched closer once the man previously in front of us was served. Short blond hair and a full sleeve of tattoos.
I got three last month, and by now they have healed completely; looking as stunning as ever. I mean when they stung like hell, so the result better be perfect.
"Six vodkas," I responded in a slightly flirty voice. He responded with a smirk, meanwhile I watched like a hawk as he proceeded to bring us the shots.
"Oh My, this club is soooo amazing." Sarah shouted in my ear, like I fucking couldn't hear her voice already.
I just nodded at her with my signature fake smile. I really believe that the reason why she even talked to me in the first place, was because the fool of a bodyguard; my parents assigned to my protection since I first stepped foot in America on my first year of college— gave himself away, when I was bombarded not 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 by the students that gave prospectuses to new comers. He fucking thought they were attacking me, and threatened to put a freaking bullet in each of their skulls. It worked. Obviously, and since the headmaster was already aware of my true identity; he simply apologised for the misunderstanding and promised me that'll never happen again.
Me!? Fucking prick, he could've ban the freak in a black tuxedo and sunglasses that became my shadow, but no, the guy was too afraid of my father.
Once we were served, we drank each three shots straight. I may only have turned twenty-one, but drinking was something I was already used to. Perks of growing up in Europe. Now we could start the fun.
The bartender who's name was Mark according to his name tag (cliché and probably fake considering where he worked at), seemed honest enough to keep my bag. So I called him over and asked him to, both my cards were tugged in between my breasts, so all I handed him was my gold mesh dress purse with my phone in it, a backup lipstick and of-course, a tampon or two, just incase and a few dollars. Along with a twenty dollars tip.
Mark smiled devilishly and took my purse and Sarah's to put them somewhere. I smiled back, before being dragged by Sarah to the dance floor. We both started moving in sink with the song playing. My hands travelling up my body as I rolled my hips. It felt good to let go once in a while, the small amount of alcohol in my veins seemed to ease my mind a little. I closed my eyes taking in everything, the people around me, the music, the mix of perfumes, colognes and a bit of sweat somewhat gave life to the club, I could even smell the alcohol in the air.
I was still dancing when foreign unwanted hands suddenly grabbed my hips. The strangers hands; a man's, pressed me further against him. I stopped moving when he shamelessly started grinding against my ass. I raised my leg up before slamming my heel back down on his foot. The asshole groaned and retracted his filthy non consensual running hands, putting a safe distance between us. "Next time I'll chop your fucking dick off motherfucker."
I resumed my dancing when I was sure he went away. Twirling around blissfully, dancing made me feel free. No restraints, just free me moving around to the beat. I loved dancing.
As the song changed, I felt watched. Following my sixth sense, I was met with a mesmerising pair of hazel eyes. My first instinct was fear. He could be one of our enemies for all I knew. But then again it would be dumb to come here on your enemies territory. So unless sexy stranger was stupid, he wouldn't know who I was.
I continued dancing maintaining his gaze. A barely visible smirk appeared on his full plumb lips. Sexy stranger was sitting in one of the booths, his legs pulled apart. With his head leaning to the side with a somewhat amused-blank expression blessing his features.
I didn't remember moving until I was basically facing him. "Won't you offer me a drink stranger?" I asked joining my hands around his neck. He stood up, and holy shit he was tall. Taller than I expected. "Jump" he huskily whispered in my ear before I complied, If I didn't, my legs would've given out anyway. His voice was one of a kind.
"Hide my ass." I replied as I tightened my grip around his neck, he gripped my ass, the dress was barely covering, and I was only wearing a fucking thong, one wrong move and his fingers would touch my womanhood.
He strode easily through the thick crowd and sat me down on one of the stools, with him standing between my legs. He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow as if asking me what to order. "Sex on the sands." I blurted a smirk on my face.
Sexy stranger seemed taken aback for a split second, before his face morphed into a that same half invisible smirk to mine, the side of his mouth twitching up, half a dimple appearing on his left cheek . "Sex on the sands, you'll get." He gave me a bored look and my face fell. How can he twist the game in his favour so fast. But before he could call the bartender, I beat him to it. "Mark!" I called and he instantly looked at me, bending down and bringing my purse without even stopping all with a tray full of empty shot glasses; no one fell. Impressive.
"Here is your bag, beautiful. But I do in-fact deserve a kiss for such a favour don't you think? . . ." He trailed off.
It seemed perfect, the sexy stranger was too sure of himself, and I was no prized possession. And I happened to hate men too full of themselves. I was no one's property. So a lesson to Mr. Fuck-me-face.
I stood on the metal bar that was connected to the stool and bent forward on the counter, before fully kissing Mark on the lips. He seemed surprised at first but ended up responding to the kiss. Barely sliding his tongue in when I was pulled back on my seat, and stranger was watching with a weird look on his Oh so beautiful eyes. Judging the vein that suddenly appeared on his forehead, he was angry . Almost scary. 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵. But I was used to it by now. "I'll have Sex on the sands, and umm . . ." I smirked as Stranger tightened his grip around my waist. "Bring him a glass of whiskey, to calm his nerves . . . He seems a little . . Tense." I sassed.
Mark went to the other side, where he proceeded to collect all the ingredients for my drink and the bottle of expensive Whiskey for, "Do I have to call you Stranger for the rest of the night?" I asked tilting my head backwards, since he was standing behind me, until I could look him in the eyes from my perspective.
"Atlas." He said in his fucking sexy voice, that could melt an iceberg. And of course I had to blush like a fucking newbie. I retrieved my head and faced downward, the only place he would not see the effect he had on me.
I've had my fair share of one night stands, occasional hook ups, and even a boyfriend or two. I lost my v-card back in Paros. I had just turned eighteen and snook out of my room at the second main mansion and headed straight to a club. My brother was just starting his 'apprenticeship' with my father. So I went with him for the meeting he had in The island.
"Smooth." I scoffed still facing forward, I did have pride and showing this sexy stranger—𝘈𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘴— that he could make me blush was out of the question.
Luckily I was saved by my drink that arrived just on time. Taking a few sips, I could live with just this my whole life. It was the perfect mix, sour yet sweet. "Davina." No matter how changing and efficient the lenses and hair dye were to hide my identity, It didn't do much to my face features. Which were still very recognisable. I sometimes surprised myself when hiding or lowering my face to avoid being recognised. Officially I was the daughter of one of the most successful business men in Europe. Apollo Cirillo, greek multi-billionaire. Unofficially I was the daughter of the Cirillo crime family’s Don.
I abruptly stood up, adjusting my dress and the hidden strap just under my breasts, I was always taught to have something to protect myself with. Wether it was a dagger or a pistol, martial arts or bare handed combats. It was common when you had the bad-luck to be born where I was. I had to protect myself. I did pretty good so far.
I signalled him to follow me upstairs while I had my drink and purse in one hand, and my fake ID in one. It was inexplicable, but I had this sudden urge to talk with Atlas. My mind was drawn to know more. He had a façade and was definitely hiding something, that I was determined to know by tonight.
𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵. And I always had it as a trait. I could never help it. Sneaking around my father's meeting room to know what was the sudden crisis that required all his men to guard our main house, or sneaking out of the house because, I wanted to see what it was like to really live 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. Name it, I have done it. I even once succeeded to enter a high school unnoticed and spend the day there without my tutor finding out.
But each time, my 'gifted' sixth sense never once betrayed me, so if I feel like Atlas is hiding something huge; then he definitely is. And I was bound to find out.
I headed straight to the stairs where, I handed the security staff my fake ID, twisting my hand enough for him to notice my family's emblem which was tattooed on the inner wrist of my left hand, to 1) make sure he didn’t kill me incognito, 2) to at least warn someone about my whereabouts worst case scenario. It was designed by the country's best artists of that time century's ago. The black ink twirling gracefully forming an olive branch crown, around our main and most important symbols.
The thunder for Zeus, meant our family's supremacy. Poseidon's trident significance went far in history, my ancestors were once pirates, it is there to honour the past, which shall never be forgotten. The dagger with the wings handle was for Nemesis; to always remind us to be fair ( my father had obviously threw that out the window but, anyway) then the last symbol: the crescent moon with the arrow piercing it. For Artemis the moon goddess.
The greek gods were long forgotten, they were now more like legends and stories you study during history class. Even if practically no one remembered them, a part of me will always be drawn to them. They're a part of my home and history after all. They're what made my Greece into what it was today.
By now probably my whole family knew where I was. Not my smartest move, but it was safer and I was getting more and more curious and desperate for the VIP's area calm. So yet again my spontaneous mind took over.
Once up, I chose the booth that was farthest from the glass. And sat down. It was a lot calmer, no sound from the music downstairs could be heard here. I exhaled.
"So," he took a sip of his whiskey leaning his back against the comfortable booth, he was sitting so that he was facing me, a small table between us, "You're in college here, I suppose?"
I nodded taking a sip of my heavenly cocktail, "NYU, third year. You?" Deep down, I enjoyed this conversation a lot more than expected, introducing myself as the college student only was refreshing, not Calliope the troubled daughter, Davina, Only Davina.
He chuckled and I swore, it sent me shivering. "Oh I was done with college a while ago,"
I eyed him up and down. "I am taking a wild guess, and say you're forty. Or perhaps in your mid forties." I said.
Oh I in fact was lying, he didn't look anywhere near as old, if I was honest he looked more like in his late-mid twenties. But I needed to let him loose a little bit. I was dying to know more about him.
He laughed and brought his hand dramatically to his heart."I am wounded, go ahead call me old, I'll just sit here." He grumbled jokingly.
I laughed just as something caught my attention, it was a tattoo on his wrist on the same spot I had my family emblem. His was a a snake, curling around an arrow. It looked beautiful. But somehow intriguing.
"So what are you studying?" He didn't like questions much, understandable.
"Business and management."
Well not really expect if something happened to me, then a whole bunch of people would be concerned, and my father sadly figured on the top of that very -𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺- long list. But they can't do shit about it, so I lived my life, the way I fucking felt it. As long as I still could. And I planned for it to be for a very long time.
"Say hi to the camera Dav!" Exclaimed the over exited chick next to me. Sarah was . . . A high society spoiled brat. Not that I didn't act like one too, but my situation was overly different. Barely ten seconds after meeting her, I already knew that her father was the CEO and co-founder of 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘦. 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘱. Her mother is a housewife, but her job is to host parties, mostly charity balls for all women of their status; wealth is the key to such events where they show off the money they donate afterwards. I was pretty sure I could've written an essay about her if I actually payed attention to whatever bullshit comes out of her mouth. Sarah is your typical daddy's little girl with strawberry blond hair, and icy blue eyes.
As hard as it was to admit it, I think part of me was jealous of her bond with her father.
I faked a smile to the phone she was holding up, with her arm straight forward slightly tilting it to the side. When she ended recording, she replayed it over a hundred times before uploading it to her Instagram story. On her private account where over two thousand of just as spoiled kids that thought the whole world should be kissing their feet are now used to see me on a daily basis for about three years now. Sometimes she just sneaks in, takes a picture or a video, and goes away just like that. I always try as hard as possible to change my appearance, but I feel like her stories will one day be my downfall.
Although no one 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 recognised 𝘮𝘦, since I changed my name to my middle name, wore lenses to hide my family's signature green eyes I inherited, chopped and dyed my normally brown hair to a dirty blond with very light blue tips and some asymmetrical locks on the left side just for fun.
Well what was fun for me was a pact with the devil for my mother who didn't find the idea anywhere near as fun.
Her loss.
"We are here Miss Lane." The poor driver who was assigned to Sarah exclaimed looking at us through the front mirror, as he stepped out of the black shiny sedan Mercedes to open the back door.
"I'll call when we're out Jean." said the barbie that was just sitting next to me as she stepped out of the car first.
I adjusted my dress before stepping out accepting the hand 'Jean' was stretching to me, "Thank you Jack." I smiled softly at him.
His real name was Jack, but The barbie that's now walking in front of me in too high heels to admit, loved to call him Jean; because a french driver would be so much better for her image. Jack was one of the kindest person I've ever met, his hair was greying on the sides but his grin was so young and careless for the world; his aura somehow inspired safety. He apparently just became a grandfather, and showed me a few pictures of his first granddaughter, Emma.
The security man outside didn't even stop us as Sarah straight forward headed inside like she owned the place. If only she knew.
To be honest the nightclub lived to the expectations, it was beautiful With white leather booths surrounded the dancing area which was already buzzing. The atmosphere was quite good with an apparently good Dj, the lights a mix of blue, mauve and pink were just perfect for the club which was very big compared to my previous experiences.
Upstairs seemed calmer than here with the same white booths, but rectangularly shaped this time, the glass was see through from both sides which was perfect. I tended to get anxious when others could see me when I couldn't.
I felt vulnerable and I hated it.
Following Sarah who made a straight b-line to the bar, It felt like following a child the way she was stumbling sometimes on her heels. Looking at the cocktail menu, it seemed nice and I saw some I just had to try tonight.
"How can I help you beautiful?" The bartender asked me, a smirk on his face as he inched closer once the man previously in front of us was served. Short blond hair and a full sleeve of tattoos.
I got three last month, and by now they have healed completely; looking as stunning as ever. I mean when they stung like hell, so the result better be perfect.
"Six vodkas," I responded in a slightly flirty voice. He responded with a smirk, meanwhile I watched like a hawk as he proceeded to bring us the shots.
"Oh My, this club is soooo amazing." Sarah shouted in my ear, like I fucking couldn't hear her voice already.
I just nodded at her with my signature fake smile. I really believe that the reason why she even talked to me in the first place, was because the fool of a bodyguard; my parents assigned to my protection since I first stepped foot in America on my first year of college— gave himself away, when I was bombarded not 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 by the students that gave prospectuses to new comers. He fucking thought they were attacking me, and threatened to put a freaking bullet in each of their skulls. It worked. Obviously, and since the headmaster was already aware of my true identity; he simply apologised for the misunderstanding and promised me that'll never happen again.
Me!? Fucking prick, he could've ban the freak in a black tuxedo and sunglasses that became my shadow, but no, the guy was too afraid of my father.
Once we were served, we drank each three shots straight. I may only have turned twenty-one, but drinking was something I was already used to. Perks of growing up in Europe. Now we could start the fun.
The bartender who's name was Mark according to his name tag (cliché and probably fake considering where he worked at), seemed honest enough to keep my bag. So I called him over and asked him to, both my cards were tugged in between my breasts, so all I handed him was my gold mesh dress purse with my phone in it, a backup lipstick and of-course, a tampon or two, just incase and a few dollars. Along with a twenty dollars tip.
Mark smiled devilishly and took my purse and Sarah's to put them somewhere. I smiled back, before being dragged by Sarah to the dance floor. We both started moving in sink with the song playing. My hands travelling up my body as I rolled my hips. It felt good to let go once in a while, the small amount of alcohol in my veins seemed to ease my mind a little. I closed my eyes taking in everything, the people around me, the music, the mix of perfumes, colognes and a bit of sweat somewhat gave life to the club, I could even smell the alcohol in the air.
I was still dancing when foreign unwanted hands suddenly grabbed my hips. The strangers hands; a man's, pressed me further against him. I stopped moving when he shamelessly started grinding against my ass. I raised my leg up before slamming my heel back down on his foot. The asshole groaned and retracted his filthy non consensual running hands, putting a safe distance between us. "Next time I'll chop your fucking dick off motherfucker."
I resumed my dancing when I was sure he went away. Twirling around blissfully, dancing made me feel free. No restraints, just free me moving around to the beat. I loved dancing.
As the song changed, I felt watched. Following my sixth sense, I was met with a mesmerising pair of hazel eyes. My first instinct was fear. He could be one of our enemies for all I knew. But then again it would be dumb to come here on your enemies territory. So unless sexy stranger was stupid, he wouldn't know who I was.
I continued dancing maintaining his gaze. A barely visible smirk appeared on his full plumb lips. Sexy stranger was sitting in one of the booths, his legs pulled apart. With his head leaning to the side with a somewhat amused-blank expression blessing his features.
I didn't remember moving until I was basically facing him. "Won't you offer me a drink stranger?" I asked joining my hands around his neck. He stood up, and holy shit he was tall. Taller than I expected. "Jump" he huskily whispered in my ear before I complied, If I didn't, my legs would've given out anyway. His voice was one of a kind.
"Hide my ass." I replied as I tightened my grip around his neck, he gripped my ass, the dress was barely covering, and I was only wearing a fucking thong, one wrong move and his fingers would touch my womanhood.
He strode easily through the thick crowd and sat me down on one of the stools, with him standing between my legs. He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow as if asking me what to order. "Sex on the sands." I blurted a smirk on my face.
Sexy stranger seemed taken aback for a split second, before his face morphed into a that same half invisible smirk to mine, the side of his mouth twitching up, half a dimple appearing on his left cheek . "Sex on the sands, you'll get." He gave me a bored look and my face fell. How can he twist the game in his favour so fast. But before he could call the bartender, I beat him to it. "Mark!" I called and he instantly looked at me, bending down and bringing my purse without even stopping all with a tray full of empty shot glasses; no one fell. Impressive.
"Here is your bag, beautiful. But I do in-fact deserve a kiss for such a favour don't you think? . . ." He trailed off.
It seemed perfect, the sexy stranger was too sure of himself, and I was no prized possession. And I happened to hate men too full of themselves. I was no one's property. So a lesson to Mr. Fuck-me-face.
I stood on the metal bar that was connected to the stool and bent forward on the counter, before fully kissing Mark on the lips. He seemed surprised at first but ended up responding to the kiss. Barely sliding his tongue in when I was pulled back on my seat, and stranger was watching with a weird look on his Oh so beautiful eyes. Judging the vein that suddenly appeared on his forehead, he was angry . Almost scary. 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵. But I was used to it by now. "I'll have Sex on the sands, and umm . . ." I smirked as Stranger tightened his grip around my waist. "Bring him a glass of whiskey, to calm his nerves . . . He seems a little . . Tense." I sassed.
Mark went to the other side, where he proceeded to collect all the ingredients for my drink and the bottle of expensive Whiskey for, "Do I have to call you Stranger for the rest of the night?" I asked tilting my head backwards, since he was standing behind me, until I could look him in the eyes from my perspective.
"Atlas." He said in his fucking sexy voice, that could melt an iceberg. And of course I had to blush like a fucking newbie. I retrieved my head and faced downward, the only place he would not see the effect he had on me.
I've had my fair share of one night stands, occasional hook ups, and even a boyfriend or two. I lost my v-card back in Paros. I had just turned eighteen and snook out of my room at the second main mansion and headed straight to a club. My brother was just starting his 'apprenticeship' with my father. So I went with him for the meeting he had in The island.
"Smooth." I scoffed still facing forward, I did have pride and showing this sexy stranger—𝘈𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘴— that he could make me blush was out of the question.
Luckily I was saved by my drink that arrived just on time. Taking a few sips, I could live with just this my whole life. It was the perfect mix, sour yet sweet. "Davina." No matter how changing and efficient the lenses and hair dye were to hide my identity, It didn't do much to my face features. Which were still very recognisable. I sometimes surprised myself when hiding or lowering my face to avoid being recognised. Officially I was the daughter of one of the most successful business men in Europe. Apollo Cirillo, greek multi-billionaire. Unofficially I was the daughter of the Cirillo crime family’s Don.
I abruptly stood up, adjusting my dress and the hidden strap just under my breasts, I was always taught to have something to protect myself with. Wether it was a dagger or a pistol, martial arts or bare handed combats. It was common when you had the bad-luck to be born where I was. I had to protect myself. I did pretty good so far.
I signalled him to follow me upstairs while I had my drink and purse in one hand, and my fake ID in one. It was inexplicable, but I had this sudden urge to talk with Atlas. My mind was drawn to know more. He had a façade and was definitely hiding something, that I was determined to know by tonight.
𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵. And I always had it as a trait. I could never help it. Sneaking around my father's meeting room to know what was the sudden crisis that required all his men to guard our main house, or sneaking out of the house because, I wanted to see what it was like to really live 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. Name it, I have done it. I even once succeeded to enter a high school unnoticed and spend the day there without my tutor finding out.
But each time, my 'gifted' sixth sense never once betrayed me, so if I feel like Atlas is hiding something huge; then he definitely is. And I was bound to find out.
I headed straight to the stairs where, I handed the security staff my fake ID, twisting my hand enough for him to notice my family's emblem which was tattooed on the inner wrist of my left hand, to 1) make sure he didn’t kill me incognito, 2) to at least warn someone about my whereabouts worst case scenario. It was designed by the country's best artists of that time century's ago. The black ink twirling gracefully forming an olive branch crown, around our main and most important symbols.
The thunder for Zeus, meant our family's supremacy. Poseidon's trident significance went far in history, my ancestors were once pirates, it is there to honour the past, which shall never be forgotten. The dagger with the wings handle was for Nemesis; to always remind us to be fair ( my father had obviously threw that out the window but, anyway) then the last symbol: the crescent moon with the arrow piercing it. For Artemis the moon goddess.
The greek gods were long forgotten, they were now more like legends and stories you study during history class. Even if practically no one remembered them, a part of me will always be drawn to them. They're a part of my home and history after all. They're what made my Greece into what it was today.
By now probably my whole family knew where I was. Not my smartest move, but it was safer and I was getting more and more curious and desperate for the VIP's area calm. So yet again my spontaneous mind took over.
Once up, I chose the booth that was farthest from the glass. And sat down. It was a lot calmer, no sound from the music downstairs could be heard here. I exhaled.
"So," he took a sip of his whiskey leaning his back against the comfortable booth, he was sitting so that he was facing me, a small table between us, "You're in college here, I suppose?"
I nodded taking a sip of my heavenly cocktail, "NYU, third year. You?" Deep down, I enjoyed this conversation a lot more than expected, introducing myself as the college student only was refreshing, not Calliope the troubled daughter, Davina, Only Davina.
He chuckled and I swore, it sent me shivering. "Oh I was done with college a while ago,"
I eyed him up and down. "I am taking a wild guess, and say you're forty. Or perhaps in your mid forties." I said.
Oh I in fact was lying, he didn't look anywhere near as old, if I was honest he looked more like in his late-mid twenties. But I needed to let him loose a little bit. I was dying to know more about him.
He laughed and brought his hand dramatically to his heart."I am wounded, go ahead call me old, I'll just sit here." He grumbled jokingly.
I laughed just as something caught my attention, it was a tattoo on his wrist on the same spot I had my family emblem. His was a a snake, curling around an arrow. It looked beautiful. But somehow intriguing.
"So what are you studying?" He didn't like questions much, understandable.
"Business and management."
"What side course?"
"History."
"Which civilisation did you choose?"
He seemed well informed of the topics discussed in the college program I had. "Greek mythology, I was going for the Maya civilisation at first, but I ended up with greeks."
"That explains the Medusa you have on your arm." He said directing his his glass towards me. "Was there a meaning . . . Behind it?" He asked wary
"Oh not really, not for what you think at least." I shrugged," Uhm, Many consider her a villain, but I guess I saw beyond the snakes and deadly eyes." I shrugged. Medusa was for me a misunderstood soul, no one really talked about her past, Perseus happened to act heroically yet again, and beheaded her, offered her to Athena, who somehow turned her into her own shield. I guess I found myself in her, she was just like me destined to be a trophy, loose everything she had ever cherished, her powers were no longer hers, her might was detained and became someone else's property. They made her weak.
"You seem to enjoy snakes just as much huh?" I looked down at his wrist where the shirt was no longer hiding the onyx ink.
Atlas seemed to visibly tense, his jaw set firm, I could practically hear his teeth as they collided together. Soft spot. Oops.
Just as he was about to answer, the security staff from downstairs came running to us, to me?
"miss Ci—Chloros i mitéra sou prospatheí na epikoinonísei mazí sou, eínai énas kókkinos kodikós" he rushed over. (your mother is trying to contact you, it is a red code)
"Aporrípste, tha tis tilefoníso" I told him pinching the bridge of my nose. He walked off with a nod of his head, slightly bowing to me.
(Dispose I'll call her)
"Umm— sorry about that, but it's a family emergenc—" I said looking at Atlas who had a weird look on his face. It was a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Well buddy I guess it's not everyday that you hear greek in a club.
Before he could utter a word, I was already running as fast as I could with healed sandals on. Red codes were for emergencies in the family it basically meant that we had targets on our backs, or something really important happened, and the fact that Jonas my bodyguard, didn't find me in the loft— since I snook out yet again and Sarah happened to have discretely made me admit that I was headed to the Aphrodite, and kindly offered me a ride. Which I ended up accepting, the many trackers on my car would have gave me away the second I left the garage.
I was at the stairs when mom answered."Mother, everything okay?" I asked getting annoyed by the situation.
"Calliope, prépei na ftáseis edó to syntomótero dynató" she said in a frantic voice. I really hope nothing happened to either of my siblings.
(Calliope, you must get here as soon as possible)
"On my way." I replied ending the call.
"Which civilisation did you choose?"
He seemed well informed of the topics discussed in the college program I had. "Greek mythology, I was going for the Maya civilisation at first, but I ended up with greeks."
"That explains the Medusa you have on your arm." He said directing his his glass towards me. "Was there a meaning . . . Behind it?" He asked wary
"Oh not really, not for what you think at least." I shrugged," Uhm, Many consider her a villain, but I guess I saw beyond the snakes and deadly eyes." I shrugged. Medusa was for me a misunderstood soul, no one really talked about her past, Perseus happened to act heroically yet again, and beheaded her, offered her to Athena, who somehow turned her into her own shield. I guess I found myself in her, she was just like me destined to be a trophy, loose everything she had ever cherished, her powers were no longer hers, her might was detained and became someone else's property. They made her weak.
"You seem to enjoy snakes just as much huh?" I looked down at his wrist where the shirt was no longer hiding the onyx ink.
Atlas seemed to visibly tense, his jaw set firm, I could practically hear his teeth as they collided together. Soft spot. Oops.
Just as he was about to answer, the security staff from downstairs came running to us, to me?
"miss Ci—Chloros i mitéra sou prospatheí na epikoinonísei mazí sou, eínai énas kókkinos kodikós" he rushed over. (your mother is trying to contact you, it is a red code)
"Aporrípste, tha tis tilefoníso" I told him pinching the bridge of my nose. He walked off with a nod of his head, slightly bowing to me.
(Dispose I'll call her)
"Umm— sorry about that, but it's a family emergenc—" I said looking at Atlas who had a weird look on his face. It was a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Well buddy I guess it's not everyday that you hear greek in a club.
Before he could utter a word, I was already running as fast as I could with healed sandals on. Red codes were for emergencies in the family it basically meant that we had targets on our backs, or something really important happened, and the fact that Jonas my bodyguard, didn't find me in the loft— since I snook out yet again and Sarah happened to have discretely made me admit that I was headed to the Aphrodite, and kindly offered me a ride. Which I ended up accepting, the many trackers on my car would have gave me away the second I left the garage.
I was at the stairs when mom answered."Mother, everything okay?" I asked getting annoyed by the situation.
"Calliope, prépei na ftáseis edó to syntomótero dynató" she said in a frantic voice. I really hope nothing happened to either of my siblings.
(Calliope, you must get here as soon as possible)
"On my way." I replied ending the call.
Mathilde’s phone wasn’t answering either.
I looked up and the stairs ahead of me seemed like hell with my heels. Leaning against the wall, I reached for my shoes and broke both the heels, before skipping the stairs three by three. I could always get another pair.
Seems like I am going back to Athens, sooner then expected.
I looked up and the stairs ahead of me seemed like hell with my heels. Leaning against the wall, I reached for my shoes and broke both the heels, before skipping the stairs three by three. I could always get another pair.
Seems like I am going back to Athens, sooner then expected.
