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As her son poured her a Campari and soda from the small bar in the corner, she perched herself on the edge of her husband’s ample leather desk chair. Aristotle was as plump as his wife was slim, his thinning hair was slicked back and he wore a pair of black heavy-rimmed glasses through which shrewd eyes glared out at his only son.
Demetrios handed the drink to his mother and she sipped it calmly. ‘The business is in serious trouble,’ she told him.
‘We invested heavily in oil production and now there’s a glut,’ his father explained, crushing out his cigar. ‘The markets are volatile and the banks are foreclosing. Over the years we have run up considerable debts, and now they want their money back. Either we do something to pump some major equity in, or we lose everything.’
Demetrios was shocked. ‘Those lousy lawyers who’ve been advising you have been trying to embezzle—’
His father threw his hands up. ‘We’re losing millions of dollars right, left and centre. Every bastard is out to get us.’
‘We have to take immediate action and consolidate the business before it is too late,’ Elana put in.
‘Lukas Constantis wants our companies to merge. He’s prepared to bail us out, provided he gets a controlling share of the company in return.’
‘Never!’ Demetrios said. ‘Over my dead body, I’d rather lose everything.’
‘Demetrios, you foolish, foolish boy,’ Elana snapped, her voice dripping disdain. ‘This is not about you, it is about the family. We have considered all the options open to us, and this is the only way.’
‘I will never give control of the business to him. He is a snake and will take the whole business from under your nose if you give him an inch.’
‘There will be nothing left of the business if we do not agree to this.’
Demetrios paced the room. ‘He has always wanted our business. He’d like nothing better than to be sitting in your chair now, Papa.’
‘You think I don’t know this? But there is no other way to save the business.’
His mother stood and walked to the enormous window that looked over the Bay of Ithos. Aside from the bay, there were few places for safe harbour on the island, which was why the community had sprung up here. She looked out, her eyes focused not on the spectacular view but on her family’s future. ‘There is one thing we have to offer.’
‘What is that?’ Aristotle asked.
‘He loves that daughter Sofía of his more than anything, and has always wanted to build a dynasty through her.’
‘Oh, yes, that crazy daughter who always gets what she wants,’ Aristotle sneered.
‘Mother, you are playing a dangerous game here,’ Demetrios warned her.
‘How so? It is our duty – the duty of every one of us – to put the family first. Sofía will make the perfect wife for you and give you sons.’
‘No, Mother, you ask too much.’
‘We must all make sacrifices. You want to save the business, do you not?’
‘It is for the good of the family, my boy,’ his father chimed in.
‘Yes, for the good of the family. That matters to you, surely?’ his mother purred.
Demetrius gave nothing away, looking at his mother coolly.
‘Come, my son, it is time for you to take your place at the head of the business. It is time for your father to retire.’ She looked at her husband with steel in her eyes, daring him to disagree with her.
‘Oh, yes, you’re right,’ Aristotle said weakly, ‘I’m getting too damn old for this.’
‘So, Demetrios, are we agreed then?’
‘Mother …’
She walked to the bar and pulled out a bottle of chilled champagne from the cooler. ‘Let us celebrate.’
She popped the cork and poured out three tall flutes, handing the first one to her son. ‘Let’s drink to the future: your future and the future of the business. To a grand dynasty.’ She handed Demetrios a glass and tipped her own to him. ‘What do you say? To the future? Stay for dinner this evening and we can talk some more.’
