Book 2 Chapter 13
The drive into Athens was a blur of sunlit marble, impatient traffic, and the restless hum of the city. Behind her dark sunglasses, Yalda squinted, her eyes were still super sensitive and even the shades didn't do much. Ioannis's headquarters rose ahead, a twenty-story tower of black glass overlooking the port, glinting beneath the Aegean sun, it looked just as powerful as him, and something tokd hervit was just like him; strong on the outside and cozy on the inside.
Inside, the marble lobby shimmered with light and movement. Conversations hushed as they entered, it became so quiet, Yalda became aware of the sounds of her heels clicking against the floor.. Every eye turned as people straightened, she could feel the weight of their curiosity as they scrutinized her. She could almost hear the unspoken questions: Who is she? Why was she with Ioannis?
Ioannis didn’t flinch beneath the weight of their stares. His stride remained steady, and confident, his hand settled on the small of her back in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. And when the elevator doors closed behind them, Yalda felt the pressure ease ever so slightly.
She wasn't even sure why she was uneasy in the first place, se was used to this after all, she was used to the corporate life, to the powerplay and all, but perhaps she'd been away for too long.
The top floor was another world, it was hushed, spacious, and completely sealed away from the chaos below. Ioannis's office was an order of dark wood, chrome, and light. The wall of glass opened the city beneath them like a living map, the Acropolis glinting in the distance. It was beautiful in here.
Standing by the door was a lady Yalda assumed was his secretary, she was poised and elegant, definitely the kind of woman who thrived in proximity to power.
"Good morning sir, ma'am." She greeted.
“Good morning Helen,” Ioannis replied, and it was the most professional Yalda had heard him sound. “This is Yalda. She’ll stay here until I’m done with the meeting.”
He glanced at Yalda and his gaze softened.
“She needs something to eat and a lot of water.” he added.
Helen nodded quickly.
“Of course, Mr. Andreas. Right away.” She turned to Yalda with professional brightness and Yalda politely returned her smile. “Welcome, ma'am.”
Ioannis leaned close, his breath warm against Yalda’s ear.
“I'll head to the conference room now. Have your breakfast, all of it." He said. He kissed her briefly but intimately. “You can join me in the conference room afterwards if you wish."
Yalda nodded though heat crept up her neck at the fact that he'd kissed her right in front of his secretary. It wasn't anything grand but she'd been so used to her relationship being a secret that this seemed new to her.
“Good luck.” She said.
He nodded once. “Take care of yourself.”
And the he was gone with Helen trailing behind him.
Yalda removed her glasses and sat on the leather sofa near the window. Beyond the glass, Athens sprawled endlessly; white rooftops cascading toward the sea, the view was beautiful, it almost seemed from good to be real.
Helen returned soon enough, balancing a porcelain tray. Yalda smiles at her but her expression remained blank and Yalda contemplated whether or not she'd imagined the brightness from her earlier.
“Your breakfast,” she said flatly, setting down a honey-pistachio donut, a cup of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Her movements were precise, almost mechanical.
“Thank you,” Yalda replied, she wasn't quite sure what this was about.
Helen nodded curtly.
“Is there anything else you need?” she asked.
“No, this is fine.”
“Of course.”
With that, she turned around and headed out, the door closed behind her with a soft click.
Yalda stared at the tray for a moment as she deliberated why she or not she wanted to eat. She thought of Alina’s gentle soups and the doctor’s quiet warning about nutrition and rest. This was the opposite of what she should be eating, but it wasn’t worth the battle.
She broke off a piece, tasted it. It was sweet and rich, a burst of flavor she hadn’t felt in weeks. The bitterness of the coffee grounded her. It wasn't bad at all.
Her gaze drifted around the office, something about the atmosphere; the quiet hum of business began to stir something inside her. It wasn’t nostalgia, not exactly, it was remembrance.
This used to be her life once.
She’d been a professional once, sharp, focused, alive with purpose. She remembered the routine of her old mornings: spreadsheets open, phones ringing, meetings scheduled down to the minute. The power of structure, of knowing that precision could control chaos. That life had made sense; there had been equations to balance, goals to reach, outcomes she could predict.
She couldn't help but recall sole mornings with Alexander, how she'd serve him coffee and donuts, how she'd give him all the information he needed for the morning, how she'd ask if he needed anything else before she left for her desk. She recalled how they'd sometimes have small talks which would end up in making out of sex, how she'd retouch her hair and makeup and head out to pretend nothing had happened. She'd been so good at that, so good at her role.
And now? Emotion had replaced structure. Everything had changed so much, perhaps that was why she felt so lost; she lacked purpose now.
Sitting here soothed something in her. The quiet discipline of the space was a balm against the noise of her grief, it reminded her that there were still parts of the world untouched by pain.
She took another sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through her chest. Her reflection shimmered faintly against the glass, she could see the dark dress, the faint lines of exhaustion around her eyes, the small strength still hidden in her posture.
For the first time in months, she didn’t feel completely broken and lost.
Her fingers traced the edge of the porcelain cup. Maybe she could heal by doing something she used to love, something fam
iliar, she could heal if she had something to do, if she was distracted.
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