Jaw gritted, he shoved a hand through his hair. ‘So you don’t know that under the terms of the agreement he’ll also receive the deeds to Kosima?’

‘What is Kosima?’

A bleak expression darkened his face. Whatever Kosima was, it held an emotional attachment for him.

‘It’s the private island where my grandfather was born. It was his favourite place on earth. Your grandfather knew that when he and my grandfather struck their unholy agreement. I assume he passed the information on to your father.’

My heart lurched with guilt, and for a wild moment I wanted to ease his pain. ‘And my father demanded it as part of the agreement?’

Again his lips twisted, before his gaze slanted over me from head to toe. ‘Of course. Just as he demanded that I marry you.’

This time my heart lurched for a different reason. He truly hadn’t wanted this marriage—was entangled in it against his will just as I was.

About to stress that I had known absolutely nothing about this, that my father’s avaricious demands were nothing to do with me, I heard that stern warning from my father slam into my brain. I didn’t doubt that he would make my mother’s life even more of a living hell than it was now.

The realisation that nothing had changed, that nothing would change, settled on me like a heavy, claustrophobic cloak.

‘Why did you go through with it?’ I asked. When he frowned, I hurried to add, ‘You obviously hate what my family has done to you, so why...?’

My disjointed thoughts rumbled to a halt, my insides twisting with dread. A caged lion was an unpredictable creature, and from the first moment I’d set eyes on him I’d felt his banked fury.

Now I knew why.

His eyes blazed grey fire at me. ‘You think I didn’t try to find a way that didn’t involve tying myself down for twelve months or handing over a multi-million-euro pay-out your father has done nothing to earn?’ he sliced at me.

My breath caught. ‘Why twelve months? Why not three...or even six?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Ask your father. He had the power to nullify some or all aspects of this agreement. He chose not to. And he counted on me not fighting this in court because adverse publicity is the last thing my company needs right now. Your grandfather was an unreasonable man who my own grandfather had the misfortune of partnering with.’

‘I know they started the airline business together, but—’

‘Your grandfather wasn’t interested in an airline business. He wanted to invest in boats, despite knowing next to nothing about them,’ he spat out the words. ‘But because they were tied together my grandfather was forced to work twice as hard to maintain both arms of the business. The only way Petras would agree to dissolve the partnership was to leave without taking his quarter-of-a-million-dollar share of the business immediately. If he had done so he would’ve bankrupted the company. But that didn’t stop him from demanding crippling interest on the loan, and an agreement promising a percentage of Xenakis Aeronautics should he or any other Petras need a future bail-out. But even then, it was too late. My grandfather had spread himself too thin, trying to maintain two suffering businesses, but he was too proud to declare bankruptcy. The strain broke his marriage and his family, and after my grandmother died his heart just...gave up.’