Page 10 of A Diamond Deal
Konstantinos stood tall and watched him roll his wheelchair into place at the head of the table.
Léon nodded to the chair beside him. ‘Sit with me.’
Konstantinos exhaled. One foot after the other, he took his seat beside him at a table Konstantinos had shared with him and his family three years ago when he’d saved the tycoon’s business by pumping millions into it.
He never should have given them the loan. The business had been failing.Rapidly. It was high-risk. A risk he wouldn’t usually take. But the dinner…when the two wives had put the little girl to bed. Leaving the men downstairs to talk. To keep business and family separate. It had done something to him. Seduced him with its family foundations.
He’d never had a conventional family. But he’d knownthatnight, watching them all, why he did what he did. Why when his mother had died, he’d sworn to be the opposite of his father, and build an empire that put family and health first.
Family—it gave them each strength. A strength his mother had been denied by his father.
His entire business model was about putting family first. A vow he’d promised to his mother when he’d held her in his arms. He’d promised he’d prove it didn’t have to be the way it was for her.
No one had to be put second place to money. Or power.No one.
It had felt like a moral obligation to save them all.
And he had.
He’d saved Léon’s family businessthatnight.
But now Léon had no family.
And neither did he.
Now… Konstantinos would protect only himself.
Konstantinos eyed the perfectly set table. The three crystal goblets. ‘Why are there three place settings?’ he asked.
‘I thought tonight might call for a mediator,’ Léon admitted.
He frowned. ‘A mediator?’
‘I expect there will be difficult discussions.’ His loosened skin rolled with the heavy drag of his Adam’s apple. ‘About your wife.’
‘My wife is none of your business,’ he warned.
‘Of course she’s my business.Sheis why you’re here. You have come to deflect the salacious rumours:“Is she in the attic?”’ he pressed, repeating the recent headlines. ‘“Has Konstantinos lost his business acumen and his wife?”’
Intelligent blue eyes met his. They were still sharp, yet they were glazed—fogged—by too many defeats.
‘The rumours won’t end because you take overmyorganisation,’ Léon finished.
‘They will,’ Konstantinos countered.
He’d show them all he was stronger than he’d ever been. Before or afterher.
‘They won’t. The press—’ Léon’s nostrils flared ‘—they question my mental health with their disgusting articles, because I sought refuge in my home after the death of my family.’ He continued, ‘And they mockyoubecause of the disappearance of your wife after losing your son. They parade our grief daily.’
His throat dried. Images, too bright—too clear—burst to vivid clarity in his mind.
His son in his arms.
The weightlessness of him.
His ears had strained to hear the whoosh of a heart that no longer beat. To hear his son breathe. He’d placed his too big hand to his still chest. Waited for his eyes to open. But they hadn’t. His eyes had never opened. So peaceful he had looked.
You failed him.
