24. Nikos

24

NIKOS

Without Oli distracting me, I would've spent the entire flight fixating on Selina's text message. At first I'd wondered if Oli had seen it on my phone when he held it, but he showed no sign that something terrible was about to happen.

Paradise came crashing down around me. I fight the urge to pull out my phone on the jet, knowing that staring at Selina's message would taunt me.

Selina

The press have photos of you with Oli

They'll be leaked by tomorrow

Fuck Nikos

We are trying to stop them

Call me ASAP!!

I hoped this was all some big joke. How had my father taken things into his own hands? I'd not spoken with him since before Greece, and my answer to paying him was still up in the air. And yet something has provoked him. After we land back in London, I'm following Oli down the jet's stairs, trying to locate the messages I last had from him. But I can't find the thread. It's as if the entire string of threats have self-destructed - father hiding evidence like he did all those years ago.

‘Nikos,' I hear Oli call beneath the roaring engines of planes and commercial carriers. I don't look up until he shouts it again, this time with panic lacing his words. ‘Nikos!'

‘What?' I bit back, unable to hold my tongue.

Shock passes over his face. Oli is hanging out the side of a private car, beckoning me to follow him. Our bags were being loaded into the back already, and here I was, left standing at the bottom of the plane's stairs, dumfounded.

What I'd give to get back on that plane and fly away forever.

‘We need to go,' Oli says, gesturing towards the terminal. I see them, a wall of photographers and fans banging on the glass in the distance. ‘You're giving the audience a show.'

As if my life couldn't crumble any more than it already was, my phone vibrates in my hand. It's an unknown number and I know instantly who is calling me. I answer it, locking eyes with Oli at a distance, using him as my confidence.

Heavy breathing sounds down the end of the line. I speak before my father gets a chance.

‘Meet me at my hotel. I trust you already know where that is.'

More heavy breathing followed by a gruff voice. ‘I do.'

The line goes dead, and just like that, I have a date with the man who's haunted my life.

I get into the car and fake a smile, pretending like everything is ok when the truth is the complete opposite. My body buzzes with unspent energy, my mind racing with the possibilities. Oli rests a hand on my knee, but I peel it off and lay it in the seat between us.

‘Selina already on your case?' Oli asks, voice quivering with nerves.

I stare ahead as the car engine starts. ‘Something like that.'

Oli is a smart man. He can tell that something's wrong. Just as I know I'm retreating behind walls of iron and steel, hiding myself. No matter how painful this is, I'm doing it to protect him. This is necessary to ensure his life isn't affected by my orbit any more than it already has been.

I lean into the plastic partition separating us from the driver. One knock and he has the window lowering.

‘Everything suitable for you, Mr Ridge?'

It's hard to swallow the lump in my throat when it's as dry as the sand back in Greece. ‘Can you make a detour for me? I need to drop my assistant off first at the following address.'

I list off Oli's address, all the while he sits next to me and stares out the window. Even after the driver agrees and the partition goes up, we both don't talk. Oli continues to gaze out the window, while I stare at my phone screen, fingers shaking.

I don't realise we get to Oli's apartment until the door slams closed. I've been so engulfed in the folder of images Selina sent. In every one of them, me and Oli are traipsing around the town in Greece. It wouldn't take a genius to see that the two men were enjoying each other's company are more than friends.

But what is worse is the message that followed those images.

Selina

The leaks came with a message. Whichever media firm that will pay the highest price, they're promising photos of a scandalous nature

Define scandalous?

Selina

I'm sorry, Nikos. I'm attempting to put forwards our own offer but I'm being blocked. It would seem the leaker has higher ambitions

I want to vomit. I feel it in the back of my throat, burning acid. I go to open the window but look up to find the seat beside me is empty. Panic overwhelms me as I look out the window and watch the back of Oli disappear into his front door, lugging his suitcase behind him.

Gone, just like that. And he'd think I ignored him purposefully.

I fumble with my buckle, throwing open the door just as Oli leaves my view. His name claws out of my throat, a garbled, panicked shout. But he doesn't turn around. I'm left to watch as his outline fades behind the warped glass of the door.

I don't even care for the driver who is looking at me like I'm a madman. He has no idea. Maybe, come tomorrow, he will work it all out when every newspaper, magazine and blog has mine and Oli's faces - and probably far more than that - plastered all over them.

Unless I can convince the leaker myself.

Panic melts to fury until I'm simmering in the back of the car. Sweat beads across my brow, even sticking to the skin at the back of my neck. I don't snap out of the trance until I hear a crack in my hand. Looking down, a jagged line has spread across my phone screen. It splits the photo of me and Oli, set as my background, down the middle.

I played with fire, and this was what I get in return. But it isn't my life that I care about anymore. It's Oli I worry about. How tomorrow, if I don't solve this issue with my father, his life will be turned upside down.

Hounded. Stalked. The comments on social media. The hate and aggression. I brought this all to his door.

This is my fault.

This is my fault.

This is my -

‘Nikos, this is your fault. I warned you, and you didn't listen. In fact, you taunted me.'

I sit still on the chair, clutching my glass of vodka and ice as my father towers over me. Even in his old age, with the deterioration of his posture and the grey hairs, he still makes me feel like a little boy.

‘Don't treat me like a child,' I snap, knuckles pale as I clutch the glass, contemplating how hard I need to throw it to break his skull. The liquid sloshes as I lift it to my mouth and take a sip. It's more like a desperate gulp, because the glass drains and my throat is left burning.

‘Then stop acting like one, Nikos.'

I peer up at him, longing to wrap my hands around his throat. I haven't had a real conversation like this with him in years, and I'm remembering exactly why. ‘Why? Why are you doing this? I've given you everything you've wanted for years.'

‘You just had to take that little slut to our family home, didn't you? Surely you knew what you were doing - taunting me, playing with me as if I am just some fucking toy like those helpless people you plough through. No. I'm your father.'

I lean forwards, trying everything to still my breathing. ‘Call back the leaks.'

Father shrugs and then smiles. ‘Your secret is out there. Even if I withdraw, the press has access to images that will taint your image forever. But better this secret than the other one, right?'

My heart is pounding. ‘Don't threaten me.'

Father pulls a chair, drags it across the room, and plants it directly in front of me. He takes a seat, smelling like alcohol and stale cigarettes. No different to me, I suppose. ‘Now. About that money. You're going to need to exceed whatever is given to me by my highest bidder. Otherwise, the next leak will not one that taints your career, but ruins you completely.'

‘You wouldn't dare,' I spit.

‘Do you wish to test that theory, boy?'

I hate how he looks at me as if he has already won. Even though he has and I know it, deep down I'm helpless against him.

‘Fuck off,' I seethe.

‘Goodness, Nikos. Your language is terrible these days. Whatever would your mother think of you now?'

I jolt forwards, blinded by rage, and crack the glass into the side of his temple. Father rocks back, flopping off his chair like the pathetic prick he is. Blood seeps down his face as it pours out of my palm. Shards of glass have embedded into my hand and scattered in father's thinning hair.

‘If you ever speak of her, I will -'

‘Kill me?' My father laughs, pushing himself up, face a mask of blood and enjoyment. He's smiling wider than ever before. ‘It wouldn't be the first time, would it? Mentally sick Nikos Drakos, who killed his mother, attempted to kill his father, and then took his own life.'

The scar on my hand aches, the place where the broken glass I'd used to cut him had opened my skin too. It's not the first time he's threatened to kill me, and I'm numb to it now. ‘Lies.'

‘Perhaps,' my father says, standing up on wobbly feet, the blood pouring down the side of his face. ‘But imagine what would happen now, if I went and re-opened the case I closed. Do you think the police would second-guess the accusation when they see what you've done to me?' Father smudges the blood with fingers, making the wound look worse than it is.

‘You killed her, not me.'

‘And yet it is your fingerprints that were found all over her. Not to mention the bruises on my neck and the gash the broken glass from that stupid picture frame made across your arm and mine.'

‘You killed her!' I scream, breathing hard, my fists clenched.

My father leans in close until all I can smell is copper and beer mixed together. ‘Because she was weak. Weak enough to listen to you and try and run from me. You can never run from me. Never. You're mine. I own you.'

‘You're a monster,' I say, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. ‘I hate you.'

‘Hate is the best motivator. Don't you think?'

I spit at his feet. ‘You've got what you want.'

‘Not exactly. There is still the issue of money. Money makes the world go round'

‘Money feeds your habits,' I retort.

A dark thought passes through my mind. It wouldn't take much to kill this man. To actually complete what I tried to do after he pushed my mother down the stairs. I'm stronger now, taller and broader. My hands, although numb from the alcohol I've consumed, are large. It would take little effort to wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze the life from him.

If I was asked what I wanted most in the world in that moment, his demise would have been the answer.

‘You're the one who wanted me to come here,' my father says, snapping me out of the murderous thoughts. ‘Did you come just to assault me, or do you have an offer for me, one so good I cannot turn it down?'

I step in, so close that our faces are inches apart. I enjoy the fact he has to peer up at me just to hold my stare. ‘Do whatever you want to me. Take everything from me. My money, success, my life. But touch Oli, hurt him, affect his world in any way, and I will kill you.'

Father's eyes narrow on me. ‘I believe you.'

‘That isn't an answer.'

‘You didn't ask a question. All you do is threaten me - your poor, helpless father who simply wishes for a relationship with his son. A son who poisoned his mother's mind and wanted her to run from me. A son who tried to kill me. A son who - for all intents and purposes - is the greatest disappointment of my life whilst also being my pride and joy. Look at you. All that fury, the drinking, the obsessions. You really are no different to me.'

‘I'm nothing like you.'

‘Say it with your chest, Nikos. I might actually believe you.'

I don't care if I make the issue worse. I lash out, grasp his arms and hold him so tight that my fingerprints will likely etch themselves into his skin. ‘Actually, you're right. I am just like you. I hurt people, I cause them pain, and more importantly, I have it in me to kill.'

‘More threats?'

I'm so close, I know my breath assaults him. ‘No threats. Promises.'

‘So…' he says, enjoying every fucking minute of this. ‘What now?'

‘Call back the leaked photos.'

My father mocks a shocked expression, pulls back and breaks my hold on him. ‘Do you know what. I completely forgot that I already accepted an offer on the way over here. Gosh, it must be my old age.'

My eyes widen. I'm frozen to the spot.

‘But don't worry. There are a few more photos I have…in fact, let me show you so you know I'm a man of my word.' He fishes out his phone, clicks as few buttons and then holds up the screen to me.

I see the photo. Blink. And then empty my stomach across the floor. Vomit spills down my shirt, across my trousers and shoes. I can't breathe or see as tears stream down my eyes.

The photo is of me and Oli naked in bed in his house.

‘Tomorrow you will be faced with the entire world asking questions about you. But it is nothing a little press tour and some damage control can't solve. You have a good team around you - people you can rely on to fix all your issues. But if these photos…' Father begins to swipe left, showing me just how many there are. ‘If these photos ever saw the light of day, say goodbye to your films, your promotions, commercials, sponsorships. But imagine what it would do to Oli. You can hide away in your luxury apartment, close the door and live a life you've always wanted. But Oli… what do you think will happen to him?'

I am imagining it. It would ruin him, being the subject of so much speculation and stalking and ire from fans.

My knees crack on the ground. My father watches, eyes now glaring down at me, reverting us back into the position of weak, pleading son and controlling father. ‘Please don't do this.'

‘You know what is required of you.'

‘I'll give you everything - just don't involve Oli.'

‘He involved himself.' Disgust passes over my father's face, the very same I saw just before he pushed my mother down the stairs. ‘But you have the chance to save him. I'm not the monster you think I am.'

Aren't you?

‘Take this as a warning, son. The next time you taunt me, the next time you test my charity and kindness, I will tell the world who Nikos Ridge really is. No matter how good the team around you is, I don't imagine they can ‘damage control' the news that Nikos Drakos was almost tried for murder. That is one fire you cannot put out.'

‘Why do you hate me?' I'm crying now, a mess of blood and tears.

‘You tried to take my wife from me.'

‘I didn't do that,' I reply, numb to the core. ‘You did that when you hit her, beat her, treated her like shit.'

Father kneels before me, just shy of my puddle of vomit. ‘She was mine.'

‘That isn't good enough of an answer.'

He reaches a hand and lays it on my cheek. His blood-slick fingers smudge across my face, the gesture fatherly but unwanted. ‘And you belong to me too. I think you've forgotten this over the years, but I am so glad we got to have this reminder. Ever since Oli came into your life, you've suddenly thought you had the power to refuse me. Let him be a lesson. Do as I say, give me what I need, and you can have the life you ran away from me for. Test me again, I will ruin everything. Do I make myself clear?'

My chest rises and falls with furious breaths. I lock eyes with him, wishing to grapple for control, but knowing the chance for that is long gone.

I drop my head and reply. ‘Yes, father. You do.'

He pats my head like a dog. ‘Good boy.'

Then he gets up, gathers himself, and leaves me more broken and alone than ever before.