Prologue
THE HUNGER INhis belly was not a new sensation. He’d known it, on and off, for almost every one of his thirteen years. It was the kind of hunger that gnawed at a person from the inside out, so extreme one couldn’t even faint from it, because the agony of being so utterly empty and depleted refused to allow any reprieve.
From where Theo sat, back pressed to the wall of an Athens street, he watched some of Europe’s wealthiest and most elite pass him by, none so much as glancing at the grimy, skin-and-bones boy huddled on the ground—as though he were invisible. His clothes were tattered, his skin covered in soot and his eyes were sunken.
But oh, those dark grey eyes. They could still see. And his mind, though malnourished, could understand.
The inequities of this world. The imbalance. The unfairness.
He watched Europe’s elite, as they moved like a relentless tide, undulating in and out of the revolving glass doors of one of Athens’s most exclusive hotels, and inwardly, he cursed them all. How could there be such wealth in the world, when he had to live like this?
Still, it was better, in Theodoros Leonidas’s opinion, than the alternative. He’d known many temporary homes, and had hated each and every one. It wasn’t always the fault of the foster parents with whom he was placed. Theo appreciated that he was difficult—he’d been told it often enough, but he recognised the truth of it. He was angry and defensive, and given the choicebetween being thrown into the home of a stranger, or living on the streets with his own wits, he would always choose the latter.
Even when it meant a hunger such as this.
He closed his eyes. Not to sleep—his hunger wouldn’t allow it—but to wait, and blot the world from his mind. As night fell, he would move, driven to take what no one would give him. Just a little food, to keep him going. Just a little food, for a young teenager with no one else to get it for him.
Chapter One
THEMANANNIELANGLEYhad known five years earlier wouldn’t have been seen dead in a place like this, yet there he sat, in a booth on the other side of the exclusive Sydney bar—a regular haunt for him, apparently, while he was overseeing his Australian business interests. Once upon a time, Theo hadhatedthis sort of place, had despised restaurants of its ilk, too. Back then, when they’d been young and purportedly ‘in love’, his idea of a good time had been sharing take-out at his apartment. Annie had known her over-protective parents wouldn’t want her to get involved with someone like Theo—older, and more experienced, who’d lived rough. Keeping things low-key meant they weren’t ever photographed, or spotted by high-society friends, and their relationship could remain a secret, so avoiding this sort of place had suited her, too.
A lot had changed in five years, though.
A familiar tide of grief surged through Annie, at what she’d lost and how she changed, but she forced herself to remain numb to it. Not to think about her mother’s death, her father’s slide into depression and grief and Annie’s inability to hold it all together, no matter how hard she tried. Those might be the reasons for her having flown halfway around the world, from her home in Athens, to Australia, to come face-to-face with the man she’d once imagined spending the rest of her life with.
The man she’d broken up with, and refused to speak to ever again.
Annie stood just inside the door, concealed by the plush burgundy curtains at the entry and the dozens of well-moneyed guests who stood between them, needing a moment—a lifetime?—to catch her breath and rebuild her courage.
This was a last resort—and it was a moment for last resorts, after all. Without help, her family’s company would have to declare bankruptcy, and everything her parents had worked towards their whole lives would be destroyed. On Annie’s watch.
Her throat thickened with the threat of tears, but she swallowed the. It was a time for strength and determination: not grief. Not fear. Not sadness—even when there was so very much to be sad about.
Digging her fingernails into her palms, Annie tried to focus on the Theo she’d fallen in love with. Not the Theo she’d crushed on from afar, when he’d first moved in next door. Then, she’d been just a girl of eleven, and the first time she’d spied him getting into his foster parents’ car, across the expansive front lawns their properties shared, her heart had gone into total meltdown. From that point on, she’d achieved almost stalker-level obsession, the kind of adoration teenagers almost held a patent on.
She’d watched from afar, equal parts craving and fearing interactions, because having to talk to him left her tongue-tied. For the first time in her life, she’d cared about something and someone other than her parents and being the perfect daughter for them. Theo had started to take up a huge portion of her waking thoughts and sleeping dreams.
That seemed like ancient history now, though. Because eventually, he’d noticed her, too. When she was much, much older, on the night of her twenty-first birthday, and she’d begged him to kiss her, to make her teenage wishes come true… It had been the start of a whirlwind year, in which she’d sworn her heart had become so full it was at risk of bursting. For the firsttime in Annie’s life, she felt seen for who she was, not what she was meant to represent, and it was all because of Theo.
ThatTheo had promised Annie he’d always be there for her, that if she ever needed anything, he would be her helpline. Her port in the storm.
That was the Theo she was appealing to for help, tonight. Not the Theo who’d been so coldly angry with her when she’d ended their relationship. Not the Theo who’d said such awful things, tearing her apart, piece by piece, and with such ease, until she was shaking and frozen to the core.
She couldn’t think about that morning without wanting to slip into a crack in the earth’s mantle and disappear for ever.
With knees that knocked together, she began to walk, slowly, carefully, through the crowd, wiping a trembling hand over the silky material of her champagne-coloured dress.
She’d grown up in this world, and had always been a part of it. Her parents’ wealth had opened many doors for her, and the fact she’d gone to a prestigious international school meant her friendships had all been with children of similar financial backgrounds. Yet she’d never really felt at home in this sort of environment; it was like play-acting. Being the woman everyone expected her to be.
Except with Theo, a little voice reminded her, and out of nowhere, she was bombarded by memories of them together. Her in jeans and shirts, or better—his shirts, lounging around together like they had no money and no cares in the world. Watching silly action movies, ordering fast food, just being together. More than that, he’d let her be herself. Unlike her parents, who had seemed to exist purely to keep her alive at all costs. He’d loved taking her out on adventurous dates, like jetskiing or hiking or riding on his motorbike. Her parents would have had a conniption if they’d found out.
Palms moist with sweat, she was almost at his table when his eyes, slowly scanning the room, landed on her, and the whole entire world seemed to grind, loudly and tangibly, to a halt. The earth stood still, the dust from the tectonic plates’ arresting flooding her throat and making everything dry. Legs that weren’t quite steady were far better than this: legs that refused to cooperate. All she could do, was stand still too.
She stared at him through the veils of time, the man she’d just been thinking about—the man he’d been five years earlier—morphing into this version of him. Not visibly older, but somehow, so much harder. His face, which she supposed had always had a tightness to it, now radiated tension and cynicism. His eyes, which once upon a time she might have described as a dark grey, seemed almost black tonight, and as she looked at him, one corner of his lips lifted in a gesture that was far more mockery than smile.
With effort, she forced her legs to move, one after the other, carrying her the rest of the way across the room, until she was at the edge of his booth, hips pressed lightly to the table’s edge for support. He had been wearing a suit, but the jacket was now discarded on the plush velvet seat to his side, and if there’d been a tie as well, it wasn’t in evidence. Instead, his button-down shirt was undone at the collar to reveal the thick column of his tanned throat, and a hint of his chest; the sleeves were pushed up to just beneath his elbows, reminding her of how strong and leanly muscled his whole body was.
She glanced away quickly, drawing in a quick breath.