Athens, Greece
11 Years Ago
Sixteen may be a sweet age for girls, but for guys? Especially guys like him that had no choice over being the subject of custody fights and legal battles over inheritances? Sixteen was a shitty age because it meant he was too young to make decisions for himself…but too old to find bliss in ignorance.
Fuck sixteen, Stavros thought. He wasn't the type to swear, but right now, he had to. He wasn't the type to lose his temper either, but he was close to doing so now.
He was tired of being locked in a hotel, prevented from seeing his parents and not being told why.
He just wanted to go back home.
"I hope you don't take this against your grandfather," the solicitor, Mr. Doukas, said quietly. "His only wish was for you not to be taken advantage of."
Stavros nodded. His grief over his grandfather's unexpected demise was still raw, and only his love and respect for the old man kept him from being completely bitter.
Christophe had loved him dearly. If his grandfather thought it was essential for Stavros to be kept away from his parents from the moment of his passing, Stavros was certain there was a reason for it.
Mr. Doukas hesitated, wondering what else he could say or do to prepare the teenage boy for what he was about to see. Despite Stavros' commanding height and built, he was, in the end, an innocent child. A well—mannered, studious, and compassionate one even, which was a miracle, considering who his parents were.
As the family solicitor for over thirty years, Mr. Doukas was more than familiar with the inner workings of the Manolis clan. Its former patriarch, Christophe, had been a widowed workaholic. It caused his only son, Giorgio, to grow up weak and spoiled, a hedonistic man who thought he had the right to experience every type of pleasure, from exotic recreational drugs to ménages and sexual explorations with his own sex.
Giorgio's wife was no better. Born to a middle—class family, Edith had clawed her way to the top of the corporate ladder using her brains and body. She had gotten herself pregnant purely to trap Giorgio into marriage, knowing the Manolis patriarch would not stand for his grandson to be born out of wedlock. But no sooner had rings been exchanged than she started having affairs and spending Manolis money like she had been born into it.
Not blind to his son and daughter—in—law's faults, Christophe had issued an ultimatum to the two on his grandson's first birthday. Maintain the façade of a happy family or be cut out of my will.
But now that Christophe was dead, even Mr. Doukas knew it was only a matter of time before the façade completely crumbled. His late client had known it, too, which was why the old man had taken certain precautions to prevent Stavros from being a pawn.
Just before entering the courtroom, Stavros paused. Not looking at the solicitor, he asked quietly, "Why are they having a custody battle when they aren't even separated?"
The question made Mr. Doukas grim. "I wish I knew what the right words to say in this situation, Stavros. But all I can tell you is that your grandfather loved you very much. You were the joy of his last years in life, and all of this is simply meant to ensure you lead a happy life."
The entrance they used to the courtroom led them to a small private room with a two—way mirror that allowed them to view the proceedings without being seen. As Stavros took a seat, he was disconcerted to find his father in the witness stand.
"He's not in any trouble, is he?" Stavros had to ask. Giorgio was more than his father. He was also his best friend.
"Not in the way you think," Mr. Doukas answered.
Sounds from the courtroom came through the speakers, making Stavros feel uneasy. It was almost like he was wiretapping a conversation.
"Mr. Manolis," the judge intoned, "please recount your testimony regarding the actions of your wife, Ms. Edith Manolis, née Agne."
Stavros' father started to speak.
At first, Stavros thought it had to be a joke. But when his father kept on talking, his voice taking a whining tone that Stavros had never heard from Giorgio, cold sweat started to envelop him.
Disbelief had him staring almost blankly at the man in the witness stand, a man he thought he knew. The father he knew was a loving and responsible man, devoted to his wife and child. So why was his father saying such lies? Why was Giorgio speaking like a crass sailor?
"That whore———" Giorgio pointed an accusing finger towards his own wife, who was seated in the front row. "———has forced me to live a life of embarrassment, with the way she takes her lovers to our own bed."
Edith's derisive laugh made Stavros pale even more. The woman he knew as his mother had been kind, never saying a single bad thing about anyone.
Rolling her eyes at her husband of almost two decades, she retorted, "At least I'm no fag!"
Giorgio's face turned purple in rage as he shot to his feet. "LIAR! Take that back, bitch!"
The judge had to pound his gavel when the two went into a slinging match, shouting accusations at each other.
