CHAPTER ELEVEN
Red Riding Hood had always thought her grandmother’s tales were to teach her the difference between a hero and a villain or good and evil. But, she wondered, what if the only difference came down to who it was that told the story?
The Truth About Little Red Riding Hood
—Roz Fayrer
LOOKING OUT FROM the patio, down the sloping green garden towards the silvery thread of the lake winding across the border of her land, Ella saw the copper dome of the gazebo glinting in the morning sun. Since returning from Paris five days ago, she hadn’t been back there.
And she hated Roman for that. It had been her favourite place in the grounds of her home. He’d promised that it would always be hers. But it didn’t feel that way. Everywhere she turned, she saw him. She smelled him on the sheets that she had washed twice now, but it hadn’t worked. It was as if his scent clung to the very air she breathed, and she had been driven outside by the memories that crashed through her relentlessly.
Ella hated the way her mind seemed incapable of creating walls around her heart and mind, instead opening her to everything she had experienced over the last few months, and before. All the different variations of the man she had married competing and contradicting everything she thought she knew.
Dorcas lifted her head as a flock of swallows soared above them on their long migration towards South Africa before the winter months, but didn’t move from where she had taken up her almost constant guardianship. One eye on Ella at all times, and the other on the door as if waiting for her master to return.
She was glad Roman had left Dorcas with her. She didn’t think she could have been here alone. Célia had offered to come and stay, but Ella had said no. There was too much going on with the company and too much breaking in her heart. She didn’t want her friend to see her like this. It was something she needed to bear alone. Because she had done this to herself. She had been so stupid.
And, of all the things, that was what turned her stomach, fired the ache in her heart. He had fooled her once and the shame had been his. But this second time? And just as those insidious thoughts crept into her mind, her baby kicked and turned, and kicked again. As if reminding her that she’d had her reasons. That she’d wanted, so, so much, to give their child a better chance. A chance for something more than they had each had. And that she would never regret. But then the pain that Roman had taken that away from them began again.
Her first instinct had been to sever ties with Liordis. She was still very much struggling with the desire to do it now. She hated to think that he had been in on it with Roman. That he had been part of her manipulation. That he had professed his interest in her business not because of what they could do, or how good they were, but because he too was using her for her husband’s ends. That Roman’s interference had infected the one part of her life she felt completely her own had been devastating.
Célia had tried to reassure her, to insist that she would follow whatever Ella wanted to do with regards to the Greek billionaire. Let him go, keep him, whatever Ella wanted. No matter the effect on their business. But, despite how Ella felt personally about the man, she couldn’t deny the damage that would be done should they choose to sever ties with their first client.
Yet that didn’t mean she was willing to let it go.
As she dialled the contact number for Loukas, she took a fortifying breath. She could still do this. She was still the co-founder of the business. She was still capable—even if she had made terrible mistakes in the past, it didn’t mean she would carry on that way. No. Unlike the men in her life, she would refuse to make decisions about her business for personal reasons.
‘Naí?’
‘Mr Liordis? It’s Ella Riding.’
‘Mrs Black?’
She flinched and was glad he wasn’t there to see it. Incensed that the man would dare to use her married name.
‘Not for much longer.’
‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that.’
She almost growled at the man’s audacity. For surely he would have known the full extent of Roman’s plans, once he had his hands on her shares. Ignoring the platitude, she pressed on. ‘I have something I want to discuss with you.’
‘All ears, agápe mou.’
‘If we are to continue to do business together—’
‘Wait… What?’ Loukas’s shocked voice interrupted.
‘Let me finish, Mr Liordis,’ she commanded. ‘If we are to continue to do business together, then we need to place all our cards on the table.’
‘Okay…’ His voice was laden with suspicion.
‘When we did our deal, I was not aware of your interaction with my husband.’
‘I wouldn’t call it an interaction as such,’ he stated.
‘No? Asking me to fund an extra five million euros was not an “interaction as such”?’
There was silence on the other end of the phone—at being caught out? she wondered.
‘Look, Mrs… Ella, I’m not quite sure what’s going on here, but the only thing your…Roman…asked me to do was to take a business meeting. It was very much for both my and your benefit. I was the one who needed to be assured of your financial viability. Beyond that one request to listen to your proposal, there was no other interaction, other than a rather drunken night in his club in New York three years ago. I promise you, I do not mix business with pleasure. So, whatever you think passed between us, you are mistaken.’
He seemed to give her the time to take that in, but whatever pause he had
