**Chapter Six**
He hung up the phone after finishing his last important call to Athens. Since waking up at four in the morning, he had been busy overseeing his business operations and managing them through the latest devices and advanced technology, which allowed him to supervise them moment by moment despite the seven-hour time difference between Greece and the United States. All of this had been made available to him in his royal suite, located in one of New York's most prestigious hotels, part of the chain of classified hotels he owned.
Everything around him radiated luxury and sophistication: the furniture, the decor, and the diverse art pieces, from the plush carpets and upholstered sofas to the luxurious bed at the center of the room and the massive glass windows surrounding the opulent suite. It was a unique blend of authenticity and modernity, in short, a level of luxury befitting a man who held the world in his hands.
Alexios walked barefoot from his desk, heading towards one of the windows with his towering stature, standing behind it and gazing out at one of New York's major streets. Even at this early hour, the traffic was busy. There was no difference between night and day in this city that never sleeps, which houses the world's major stock exchanges (Wall Street) where the stocks of the largest global companies and massive capital investments are traded.
He took the cup from the ivory table beside him, lifted it to his lips, and sipped some hot coffee. His left hand dangled by his side, with his fingers tucked into the pocket of his black silk pajamas, which hung low on his hips, clearly showcasing his well-defined abs. His upper body was completely bare except for a silver chain ending in an Orthodox cross that hung from his strong, tanned neck. A few short strands of his jet-black hair framed his handsome face, which bore a calm demeanor that did not reflect the thoughts of its owner. However, the fleeting, terrifying look that briefly appeared and then vanished from the ashes of his eyes revealed the raging storms within him. Behind that perfect exterior was a growing sense of disdain and hatred, fueled by the memories of that night he had attended a week ago.
At that lavish party, what had disgusted him the most was the crude smile that appeared on Countess Bianca's lips when she saw him. It made her seem truly pitiable and confirmed to him beyond any doubt that she was nothing but a vile leech. In truth, he was not surprised at all; he knew exactly what kind of woman she was. Yes, he was familiar with such people. He had encountered many of her kind during his thirty-three years, eleven of which he had spent managing the business empire of the Visalis group with an iron fist, having taken over leadership after his father resigned from the helm of the group.
'A money worshipper'
He thought sarcastically, how could it be otherwise when it had been clear to him from their very first meeting on the day she came to the headquarters of one of his business branches in New York?
She had seemed immensely pleased at the time after he agreed to meet her.
After introducing herself, she began to flatter him and profess admiration for his career as a prominent businessman, but of course, she did not forget to praise herself, recounting the virtues of her noble lineage and her husband, before personally inviting him to attend the private party she would host at her home. Well, she had been very insistent about it, but he had of course not given her a clear answer about whether he would attend or not. Instead, he had made her nervous when the topic was shifted to the more pressing matter for which she had requested the meeting in the first place!
Well, he had accepted her invitation, and the inevitable result, as he had expected, was meeting that stunning redhead whom the Countess had made sure to introduce to him as soon as he arrived at the party. Perhaps she had wanted to impress him with her daughter's breathtaking beauty as had happened with most of the men at the party. Yes, how could she not? She was a famous British model who had quickly climbed the ladder of success to become the queen of fashion, hailed as the most beautiful and alluring model, with the biggest fashion houses vying for her services. However, it was very unfortunate for her that he was not like the other men deceived by her daughter's angelic appearance, which concealed the other side of her reality that he knew all too well.
His mouth curled in a sneer as he remembered how the Countess's eyes had gleamed with cunning as she approached him with her daughter. The latter had quickly fallen into his arms. He couldn't say it was intentional, but the feigned expression of shock on her face as she looked up at him seemed somewhat suspicious. However, she quickly returned to her haughty nature by resuming her impassive demeanor.
The Countess might not have mentioned her daughter during their first meeting in his office, perhaps due to something she was hiding, but he didn't need her to do so. He was fully aware of her, wasn't she the very reason he had accepted that invitation in the first place?!.
Despite everything, he had to admit that some aspects of his encounter with the woman had not gone as he had anticipated. He had expected her to cling to him like a leech and not leave his side throughout the evening. However, her attempts to avoid him and her persistent efforts to stay away had awakened his spirit of challenge. He allowed her to play her game while he kept his distance, observing her from afar, waiting for her next move, which did not take long. He watched as she left the ballroom with her lithe figure and head held high like a princess. He followed her to find her standing alone in the lounge as if waiting for something. Well, he was not about to let her leave like that. He took the first step and drew her into his arms. Despite her initial resistance, he found great pleasure in making her submit. It greatly satisfied him to feel her surrendering in his arms, confirming without doubt that he could tame this fierce tigress and bring her under his control, which would greatly aid him in achieving his ultimate goal of utterly destroying her and her cursed family.
However, her final action after their passionate kiss still puzzled him. She had slapped him and then fled, leaving him with nothing but a memory!
He turned his head toward the large desk on his left, focusing his glowing gaze on the glinting silver hairpin that had caught the first rays of sunlight streaming through the window glass.
A vivid image flashed before his eyes like lightning, recalling the fiery cascade of her hair that had taken his breath away then as it did now. It had been a memory of her flowing hair cascading down her back like a roaring wave before she disappeared from his sight.
He quickly shook off this thought as if it were a curse and wondered sarcastically, (Did she really think she was Cinderella?)
The idea seemed absurd to him because, in his view, the name that best suited her true nature was (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and sensuality, and the ultimate seductress according to his great Greek ancestors.
"I see you woke up early despite your late return last night."
It was his personal assistant, Stavros, who interrupted his train of thought as he walked into the suite carrying several files. Without moving, Alexios responded calmly:
"And I see you haven't abandoned your habit of monitoring me."
"That's not true!"
Stavros protested, adding with displeasure:
"I was in the adjoining room last night, finishing the files you had assigned me to review. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known when you returned; I would have been in my room enjoying a restful sleep."
Alexios turned his body slowly, casting a glance at his assistant and right-hand man, who was diligently organizing the scattered files on the desk with precision and professionalism.
He asked with a hint of cunning as he moved toward the black leather sofa:
"Are you complaining now about the workload assigned to you?"
Stavros shrugged indifferently as he continued his task:
"Whether I complain or not doesn't change the reality. I am the only one you can rely on, so there's no point in tiring myself asking for mercy."
"Anyone who hears you would think I am tormenting you without compassion with my endless demands and work, but you are right about one thing: I really can't rely on anyone but you."
He said this as he relaxed his body on the sofa, his long fingers running through his hair with boredom before adding:
"I think I need a cold shower."
"I also think you are in dire need of one. The signs of fatigue are evident on your face, my friend."
Alexios suddenly turned his head towards his assistant, his expression becoming serious as if he had remembered something important, and asked:
"Are the documents for the Konstantinos Maritime Group ready?"
"Yes, everything is ready. All that remains is for you and Mr. Andreas Konstantinos to sign them, and then the group will be under your complete control."
His eyes gleamed with a triumphant sparkle:
"Excellent."
"Should I contact him to set up a signing appointment?"
"No."
His response was definitive as he adjusted his sitting position before adding in a confident tone:
"Let him wait longer; he will come to you on his own."
That great confidence did not come from nowhere. He knew well how desperate Andreas Konstantinos was to finalize this deal. Despite all the immense efforts Konstantinos had made to save his companies from ruin after every businessman he sought help from turned him away, and the banks refused him a loan, his only remaining option, however bitter, was to turn to his arch-enemy Alexios and cling to him as his last straw of salvation, despite the deep-seated animosity between them and their families, rooted for decades.
Yes, he still remembered how Konstantinos had come to him, head bowed and humiliated, on the brink of collapse after his group had gone completely bankrupt. He could have easily refused his request for help and left him to face his inevitable fate of total bankruptcy and destitution with his family. But he chose to absorb his failed companies into his great empire, not because he wished to help him, nor because he needed his businesses, which he was entirely indifferent to. Oh no, but because he knew that the greatest punishment for Andreas would be to see his family's name disappear forever from his maritime fleet and his business group, replaced by the name of his fiercest enemy, (Visalis). That in itself was a punishment more painful than death for a proud Greek like him.
"Well, as you order, but... what about the other matter?"
Stavros hesitated to say more as he watched Alexios, adjusting his glasses on his nose, spring up lightly from his seat. But the latter did not give him a chance to hesitate, asking firmly as if he had fully grasped the intent of the question.
"But what about...?"
"Well, did you meet her while you were in London?"
"Yes, and?"
Alexios had always been a source of great admiration for his calm demeanor and his almost supernatural ability to maintain composure in situations where no one else would be expected to. As someone close to him, Stavros knew well what mentioning that woman in front of him meant. Nevertheless, he remained unreactive, responding to the question with another question. Alexios truly deserved his high status in life.
"Are you sure you want to proceed with what you plan to do?"
"More than ever."
He answered with absolute confidence, his fiery eyes blazing like a flame, which compelled Stavros to keep his comments to himself, only saying:
"Well, as long as that's what you want."
Without bothering to respond, Alexios made his way steadily toward the bathroom, while his assistant's stern gaze followed his imposing figure until he disappeared. Stavros then returned to his work, secretly hoping that he would never find himself in the same plight as that unfortunate woman.