10: The Honeymoon

LILLIAN

In the space of ten hours, Xavier’s private jet touched down on the tarmac of the Santorini airport and I had mixed feelings.

As we highlighted from the jet, there was a small group of people waiting by the runway. A man dressed in a sharp suit stepped forward, extending his hand to Xavier with a warm smile.

“Mr. Santos, welcome to Santorini,” he said graciously, his voice carrying a hint of Greek accent. “I hope your flight was pleasant.”

Xavier nodded curtly, acknowledging the greeting by returning the man’s handshake, but not offering much in return. I rolled my eyes at his arrogance.

The man then turned to me with a polite nod.

“And Mrs. Santos, welcome as well.” He greeted me.

Mrs. Santos. I fought the urge to hard my grimace. I didn’t think anyone would call me that so soon.

“I trust you had a comfortable journey,” the man asked, and I managed a tight lipped smile back, deciding not to respond.

The journey had been anything but comfortable. It had annoyed me. Xavier had made us sit together, even in his big ass private jet, and also took the window seat which is my favorite spot.

It would have been a little bearable in fact sitting down beside me if he had engaged me in a conversation or bantered with me at the very least.

But no.

Throughout the entire flight, he remained fixated on his laptop screen, typing away, his attention dedicated to whatever business matters he was attending to. Not once did he glance in my direction or engage me in a conversation, or at the very least, throw an order my way.

With the hatred I had for him, this should have made me happy. The solitude should have been a relief. But this would have been the case if I was sitting as far away from him as possible, I would have entertained myself. But he made sure I wouldn’t leave his side, keeping his stupid bodyguard close to me whenever I attempted to move.

So instead of being okay with the fact that he wasn’t speaking to me, I was irked by his indifference.

For someone that was so obsessed with me and claimed that all he did was to have me, his disregard felt like a deliberate snub.

It was as if he could t stand to acknowledge my existence, despite his persistent efforts to assert his dominance over my life.

It both confused and infuriated me, the contrast between his actions and the things he did to get me to be his, and his current aloofness.

“Right this way,” the man spoke, leading us to the sleek black car waiting in a distance.

The others in the group, including a well dressed hostess and a couple of assistants who initially maintained a respectful distance came close to help with our luggages.

As we walked towards the waiting car, the island’s warm breeze mingled with the scent of sea salt and blooming flowers, creating a surreal contrast to the tension simmering between Xavier and me.

The driver opened the doo and I reluctantly got in beside Xavier who was now speaking to someone on the phone, and again, I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

Ignoring me yet again.

Who the hell was he even talking to?

As we drove through the winding road of Santorini, I couldn’t help but be amazed against my better judgement.

The air smelled salty and fresh. Outside my window, Santorini looked like a picture from a story book. Houses painted all in white with bright blue domes cascades down steep hills and below, the sea sparkled in deep shades of blue.

It was so beautiful, each corner we turned to revealed another stunning view. And to

Think I was complaining about how impromptu this trip was.

In all honesty and much to anyone’s surprise, I have never been outside America as a continent. My father didn’t allow it, telling me that it was for my protection so I never got the opportunity to visit other continents.

Even when I wanted to go on a vacation, I would go to only cities within the American continent; Jamaica, Mexico, Cuba. All my life, I’ve been confined to the States and this was my first time exploring another continent.

But even though I was supposed to be happy about finally seeing something new, somewhere new, it made me a little sad too.

This trip to Santorini was only happening because of my unwanted marriage to Xavier.

Meaning that no matter how much I didn’t want to be, I was going to be dependent on him from now on. Whether I liked it or not.

We arrived at the renowned Grace Santorini Hotel. I noticed a line of impeccably dressed hosts and hostesses already waiting for us with warm smiles plastered on their lips like they had spent the entire day practicing it.

I could t help but notice that ever since we got here, there have been people at Xavier’s beck and call, making me wonder what level of influence he had in this place. I always thought he was only a household name in the States. I didn’t he had expanded to Greece.

“Good evening Mr. Santos. Mrs. Santos,” she gave me a respectful nod and a smile. “Welcome to the Grace Santorini hotel. Follow me, we have your suite waiting for you,” she said, guiding us through the grande lobby adorned with marble floors and crystal chandeliers.

“You go ahead and escort my wife to our suite. I have some where I need to be urgently.” Xavier spoke.

My wife.

Those two words rolled from his tongue like molten lava.

Wait, is he abandoning me? Was that his plan all along? To bring me here and abandon me while he attends to his numerous meetings?

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady because of the people around. “Are you leaving me?”

“I have a meeting, Lillian,” he said calmly, looking in a direction. “I am not leaving you.” He said, but I felt offended.

“A meeting? But Xavier, this is supposed to be our honey moon, isn’t it? You said so yourself,” I threw his words back at him, feigning sweetness.

He looked at me and I thought he was going to give me a snarky response back. But instead, his expression softened slightly… unexpectedly if I might add.

“It will still be our honeymoon,” he said like he was assuring me. “I just need to attend to this. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He sounded so convincing, I almost believed him. Then I realized that there were outsiders around us and he has to be sweet to me since everyone felt we married for love.

Yeah, right.

Before I could even respond to him, he shocked me by pressing a gently kiss to my forehead and my eyes widened. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away with Castor and a group of men, leaving me standing there, trying to make sense of it all.

What just happened? Did he just kiss me?

I heard the hostesses around giggling, including the woman that had led us in, cooing at our public display of affection.

If only it was real.

“Right this way, Mrs. Santos,” she said politely, offering a reassuring smile and gesturing towards the elevator that led to the suite.