taken the idea of death lightly, so Demiris had no idea how much life meant to her now. If
he had, he would surely let her die. Noelle wondered again what webs he had been
weaving for her over the past few months, and even as she wondered, she heard the office
door open and she turned around and saw Constantin Demiris standing in the doorway and
after one shocked look at him, Noelle knew that she had nothing more to fear.
Constantin Demiris had aged ten years in the few months since Noelle had seen him.
He looked gaunt and haggard, and his clothes hung loosely on his frame. But it was his
eyes that held her attention. They were the eyes of a soul that had been through hell. The
essence of power that had been within Demiris, the dynamic, overpowering core of vitality
was gone. It was as though a light switch had been turned off, and all that was left was the
pale afterglow of a faded, once remembered brilliance. He stood there, staring at her, his
eyes filled with pain.
For a split second Noelle wondered whether this could be some kind of trick, part of
a plan, but no man on earth could be that good an actor. It was Noelle who broke the long
silence. “I’m sorry, Costa,” she said.
Demiris nodded slowly, as though the movement cost him an effort.
“I wanted to kill you,” he said wearily, and it was an old man’s voice. “I had
everything worked out.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He replied quietly, “Because you killed me first. I’ve never needed anyone before. I
suppose I’ve never really been in pain before.”
“Costa—”
“No. Let me finish. I’m not a forgiving man. If I could do without you, believe me I
would. But I can’t. I can’t go through any more. I want you back, Noelle.”
She fought to show nothing of what she was feeling inside. “That’s really not up to
me anymore, is it?”
“If I could have you freed, would you come back to me? To stay?”
To stay. A thousand images flashed through Noelle’s mind. She would never see
Larry again, never touch him, hold him. Noelle had no choice, but even if she had, life
was sweeter. And as long as she was alive, there was always a chance. She looked up at
Demiris.
“Yes, Costa.”
Demiris stared at her, his face filling with emotion. When he spoke, his voice was
husky. “Thank you,” he said. “We’re going to forget the past. It’s gone and nothing will
change it.” His voice brightened. “It’s the future I’m interested in. I’m going to engage an
attorney for you.”
“Who?”
“Napoleon Chotas.”