A little more than half a century prior, Isabella Thorpe had been born an heiress. She had been the oldest child to the Apostolos dynasty, one of the richest families in Europe owning most of its top hotels in Mediterranean and having a lot of prime investments that had paid off for them.

But Isabella instead had grown up and chosen to be a wife and mother, the woman behind a man not the boss lady herself. She left that to her younger sister who seemed more committed to that lifestyle.

And that was why Nic was in Greece. Not because he wanted to be, but rather it was the season of the year in which they had one grand family reunion.

Nic didn’t so much mind it, as it was an excuse to get on a plane and go to the beach. So when his mother had told him to pack, he packed with no hassles and unlike his sister, had managed it in less than a whole day.

The air was warm with the near summer heat and he was ready to hit the waves. The air smelt like the sea breeze, the saltiness that he had missed from months and months on end stuck in a landlocked area.

He felt that comfort that came with the sound of life chattering around him and the sea and the fresh air. He was in love for a moment with it all.

Until Elizabeth opened her mouth.

“It’s so humid here.” She groaned. “My hair is going to get so frizzy.”

He sighed. Isabella didn’t say anything nor did her husband and Nic’s brother. They all had a moment of silence as they piled all into a sleek black SUV and were transported down to the shore.

Through the tinted windows, Nicholas watched as the sea drew closer and closer. The waves lapping on each other. Finally they reached the end of the road. There was nothing there but a grand yacht that would take them over onto the small prevent island owned by his mother’s family.

The ride was smooth, he leaned on the railing as Elizabeth confined herself into a room. His father and Christopher locked themselves in some sort of a heated discussion about business from the tight looks on their faces, Nic assumed it wasn’t going well.

His mother was nowhere to be seen but he supposed she was busy on the phone somewhere organising some sort of brunch or tea meeting or some fundraiser.

He enjoyed the view of the waves, he watched the land slip away from view and new land appear on the other side, the wind whipped his hair against his head. He had been growing it out for the past few months, just like his beard. He had let it fall over his face in a way that his father had called foolish.

The Apostolos family island was small, just the house and sea all around it. The house itself was not a house. It was more of a mansion built with white marble and stone. The front of the house was a beautiful garden that lead up the stone path to the front steps and porch. The roof of the front was held up by columns as the roof was painted a vibrant blue just as the front door was.

Their arrival was met with a set of workers for the house and Aunt Calla was standing there.

Aunt Calla was a stern woman, she was the youngest sister but yet the most stern and mature. She wore a black pantsuit and with her dark hair pulled up into a tight bun. She had Isabella’s beauty but where Isabella had been graceful and gentle. Calla was stern.

She greeted her sister with a curt hug and she smiled at Nathanial. She gave Christopher a curt nod, Elizabeth a knowing smile and Nic a once over glance.

Unlike his mother, Calla didn’t find any interest in what Nic did. She barely noticed his presence and she suspected that she sided with his father. Unlike Aunt Mariah, who embraced him and treated him as if he were one of her own children.

The house inside was all white marble and breakable things. It was not meant for children but rather the seat of a family throne. It was all so grand and Nic wandered why Calla insisted that she stay there when it was only her and her odd ‘friend’ Sirena. They could have gotten a smaller and more inviting place.

There was no sign of Sirena anywhere around but there were hints of her everywhere. She broke the traditional mould of the house, placing odd artwork all across the home, fresh plants and stones that were meant to enlighten or open chakras.

Nic wondered how somebody as stern as Calla could end up sharing a house with someone so in love with freedom and nature.

He went up to the bedroom that had been his since he was young. He had only stayed there a few weeks out the whole year but he always loved the room. It was smaller compared to many of the others but the walls were painted a deep-sea blue. The bed was small and pushed into one side but the room was wide, the wooden floors were polished clean and the closet to the side of the room was empty but one wall was filled.

On the wall opposite the bed were surfboards. There was nothing that kept his attention more than the surfboards that were shelved on the wall, each on display and each ready to come into contact with the sea. He didn’t waste any time before his mother could find something for him to do, he had already chosen a plain white one and had his swim shorts on. He choose to round to the back of the mansion, where the worker’s quarters where. There by the small beach that was kept hidden off by a small cliff enclosure.

He found solace there as he jumped head first into the sea. The waves came hard at him but he rode and rode, until he was soaked and his body felt as if it were going to give out but he kept going until the sun had almost set and jetlag had begun to catch up with him.

Nic went back to the small beach to find that he wasn’t alone.

On the beach stood his brother, Christopher and he was locked in a deep conversation with a woman with dark skin. She seemed to be wearing a skirt that held tight onto her hips and she held a pair of shoes in her hand but she still talked with a stern face with his brother.

Christopher must have seen him coming as his focus shifted to him. The woman turned to face him, her eyes widened for a second before she composed herself.

Nic froze.

How had she gotten there?

****