Cristiane Serruya - Trust: Betrayed

She moaned, “I have to shower.”

He removed the top from her arms and jumped off the bed, holding out his hand to her, “Come. Let’s shower.”

“Alistair Connor,” she frowned at him and crossed her arms under her breasts, “you’re impossible.”

He laughed out loud, too happy to care about the hour, and picked her up in the arms, humming in masculine satisfaction as she let him do what he would.

Greece, Mykonos. Niarchos Angepopoulos’s house.

Thursday, January 26^th, 1989.

 3.53 p.m.

A dry knock on the door brought Ethan’s head up from the book he was reading.

“Come in,” he said in Greek.

Suddenly, the big room became small as Niarchos Angepopoulos entered his grandson’s bedroom. Niarchos was not a big man; by no means fat, tall or handsome. But he exuded such charisma that he seemed taller, broader and more handsome than he was. His aura of power - and his money - made women fling themselves at his feet.

He had a beautiful mane of graying black hair, a slightly beaked nose and sharp, intelligent dark eyes. Always impeccably dressed in tailored clothes and with extremely polished manners, he had worked his way up to the top of Greek society and business world through hard work and also lies and deceit.

Ethan was grateful his grandfather adored him, because Niarchos Angepopoulos was unstoppable when he wanted something. His only weaknesses in life were his late wife, to whom he had been faithful for the thirty-three years of their happy marriage, and his only grandson.

“Good afternoon, Grandpa,” Ethan stood up and kissed him on the cheeks, an admiring look in his eyes.

“Always studying,” Niarchos shook his head as he looked around his grandson’s shaded room and walked to the curtains flinging them wide open. “You need more sunlight in your life, Ethan. It will keep your eyes healthier for longer.”

Ethan was a very handsome young man. He’d had perfect skin during his teenage years and he was starting to fill out nicely, building muscle. He was already tall. His silky brown hair had turned to a dark blond under the Greek sun and his amazing azure eyes, so uncommon in the Angepopoulos’s family, were bright.

Nonetheless, Niarchos worried about him.

Since Ethan had arrived from London, more than two years ago, with a haunted look in his expressive and gullible eyes, he had made no friends and had had no girlfriends, either. He expressed no wish to socialize with his school friends at the beach or at parties. He was extremely shy. The only place he felt comfortable was in the security of his bedchamber or in the gazebo near the private beach, accompanied by his books. Even when Niarchos traveled around the globe, be it on business or on vacation, Ethan refused to leave the house in Mykonos.

Niarchos had to use lots of gentle persuasion to take Ethan out of the darkness of his room. Ethan refused to talk about his feelings, even to the therapist his grandfather made him see, and his depression continued. Niarchos had also started seeing a therapist to see if he could help Ethan. In his last attempt, Niarchos took him to a psychiatrist, who prescribed anti-depressives and that seemed to help a bit.

Since the only things that make Ethan feel a little better were his studies, his books and his computer, Niarchos enrolled him in the best school, paid private tutors to teach him languages and bought all the books and new technology he wanted. Ethan had a very sharp mind and, although he was socially withdrawn, he was a sponge when it came to knowledge.

Still, that wasn’t enough to make the haunted look and the depressed state go away.

Niarchos had decided he would change that. Even if he had to betray his own grandson’s trust. He reasoned with himself that it was small price to pay to teach Ethan the ways of life.

“I want to talk to you, son. Come outside,” Niarchos ordered lightly and crossed the threshold to the veranda, sitting on the comfortable chair.

Ethan eyed Niarchos as he crossed his legs. He blinked nervously. Stop this, Ethan. You know Grandpa doesn’t like you blinking like this.

Niarchos smiled gently at Ethan and motioned for the chair beside him. “My son, I need your help.”

Ethan’s lips opened in a smile, “Of course, Grandpa. Whatever you need.”

Niarchos sat more comfortably and launched into his prepared speech.

Friday, January 27^th, 1989.

10.21 a.m.

Niarchos motioned to Ethan, who was standing stiffly beside him, and spoke in his accented French, “And this is my grandson, Ethan Ashford. Ethan, this is my dear friend, Isis, and her daughter, Eve.”

“You never told me you had such a handsome grandson.” The older brunette pursed her lips in a charming pout at Niarchos. She put her manicured hand on Ethan’s cheek, before bending and pressing her face to his. “Where have you been hiding, gorgeous?”

Ethan smiled, embarrassed, but said in his perfect and fluent French, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“They are going to live with us for a few months,” Niarchos explained.

Ethan’s gaze lingered on Isis. She was a mature woman of fifty. Tall, curvy, a bit on the plump side, she had luscious brown hair that touched her shoulders and a very interesting and charming face. Then his gaze moved to Eve and paused there.

The teenage girl that was shyly looking down. He thanked his tanned skin for hiding his blushing cheeks. He was arrested by her beauty and delicate movements.

Eve was average height, with a lean body full of curves in the right places and peachy cream skin. Her hair was long and ink-black. Her nose was up-turned and her mouth small and full. She was wearing an expensive light-pink dress and pink and white flats. His grandfather had described her perfectly: a shy girl that had just left a Catholic boarding school.

To Ethan, she looked like an angel.

An angel he had a sudden and uncontrollable desire to touch.

“Eve is starting at your school this month, Ethan.” Isis softly nudged Eve in Ethan’s direction. “Eve, say hello to Ethan. He is going to help you adjust, aren’t you, Ethan?”

Ethan nodded and opened his mouth to say something, when Eve raised her eyes and, with an enchanting smile, greeted him, “Bonjour.”

He discovered that her eyes where a beautiful shade of chocolate. He felt as his grandfather pressed a hand on his back, motioning for him to kiss the girl. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. She blinked twice, smiled a bit more and then looked down again.

“Good morning, Eve.” He liked the way her name sounded. “Nice to meet you.”

Isis smugly smiled to Niarchos, who said, “Let’s move to the terrace and have some coffee while Athena arranges your things in your rooms.”

11.43 a.m.

“And do you like to read?” Ethan asked Eve as they strolled through the gardens. Books and studies were the only topics he didn’t have any problem talking about.

She looked up at him and a smile graced her naturally pink lips, hypnotizing Ethan.

“Oh, yes, I do. You know, the Abbess at my old school was very strict about what we could read.” She giggled and the sound went directly to Ethan’s heart, making it beat quicker. “But my friends would always smuggle a forbidden book to my room at night.”

“I see.” They had reached the end of the enormous garden by the beach. “Do you want to sit a bit? The view here is incredible.” Ethan loved the wide square gazebo his grandfather had built especially for him. It had a white trellis with pink and orange bougainvillea. In the spring, the flowers attracted hummingbirds. When it rained, he would spend hours there, reading, admiring the transparent blue Mediterranean Sea and listening to the sound of the rain on the wooden roof and the leaves. The gentle lapping of the waves on the sand brought Ethan peaceful and happy thoughts. It was his favorite place.

He waited for her to sit on the sofa and admired her shapely legs as she shed her flats and tucked her feet under her thighs, leaning on the pillows. He sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance. “So, what kind of books did you read?”

“Oh, you know...” she giggled again and bit her bottom lip, looking down at her fingers.

He shifted a little closer keeping his half-arousal concealed. That girl was doing things to him he didn’t understand and, although he was afraid of those feelings, he was unable to stay away. He wanted to touch her skin to see if it felt as smooth as it looked.

“I don’t. Tell me.”

She raised her puppy eyes to him and whispered conspiratorially, “Promise you won’t tell my mother?”

The way she was confiding in him made him feel bold and he scooted closer to her. “I promise.”

Eve shifted on the seat, slid one of her bent legs closer to him and her double buttoned dress with pleated skirt, climbed up a bit, revealing more of her soft rounded thighs.

Ethan’s mouth dried. He licked his lips. “So? What kind?”

With her knee touching his hip, she leaned over, balancing herself with a hand on his thigh and put her mouth near his ear. Her warm hand sent electric shocks through him and her soft breath tickled his ear when she murmured, “About sex.”

“Sex,” he repeated hoarsely as a thrill of desire ran directly to his crotch. Jesus! I want this angel.

His breathing became uneven. He raised his hand to touch her face. When she didn’t recoil, he put his open palm on her cheek, the tips of his fingers touching her silky hair. His eyes fluttered closed. Such softness. I want to touch her all over. But I don’t know how. What-

A soft kiss on his lips interrupted his thoughts. His eyes flew open and he gasped.

Eve backed away, blinking. “I’m sorry. I-” She put her hands over her face and her hair covered her lowered face.

He looked at her and awkwardly put his hand on her bare knee. “I’m sorry. I don’t...” I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I’m so clumsy.

She looked at him between her fingers.

“Please? Eve?” Ethan squeezed her knee lightly. What should I do?

Eve took her hands slowly from her face. “Don’t tell anyone. Please? It’s just that you are so... handsome,” she put her hand over his and moved it further up her thigh, under her dress, and she pressed her hand down on his. “I have never seen such a handsome man. You know,” her eyes fluttered innocently, but her gaze never strayed from his, as she once more leaned in his direction and, a breath away from his lips, whispered, “I never had a boyfriend.”

Ethan didn’t resist temptation and closed the space between them, putting his lips over hers. Oh. Soft lips. Sweet lips. Angel lips.

His platonic thoughts gave way to fierce feelings as her tongue slid over his lips, her hands wandering gently in his hair and she murmured on his closed mouth, “Oh, Ethan, you make me want forbidden things. Open your mouth.” Her soft tongue probed and found entrance.

Ethan succumbed.

He forgot all his mother and father had done to him.

He forgot all about that awful night and worse morning.

Eve’s kiss was all he could think about.

7.37 p.m.

“Ethan, come in,” Niarchos welcomed his grandson into his bedroom.

Ethan entered and shifted on his feet, unsure.

Niarchos closed the door and smiled inwardly as he quickly surveyed his grandson. “You dressed nicely.”

“Err... Well, I- We have visitors. I thought-”

“You did very well, my boy.” A pleasant smile graced Niarchos’s face. “Isis and Eve are very refined. You know women like well dressed men. Specially French women.”

“They are very beautiful.” And I want Eve, Grandpa. What should I do?

Niarchos finished buttoning his long-sleeved shirt, zipped up his tailored trousers and buckled his belt. He turned away from the mirror and faced his grandson with his mind set on his course of action. One way or another, he would see Ethan transformed into a confident man. “How do I look, Ethan?”

“Handsome and powerful as always, Grandpa.” He shifted from one foot to another and looked away, blinking nervously.

Niarchos put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and guided him to the veranda, sitting in one of the armchairs. “Sit, Ethan. Tell me what is bothering you.”

Ethan blushed even more. He didn’t know how to talk about sex, so he sat silent by his grandfather and looked down at his black Ferragamo shoes.