Divorcing Her Mafia Family
Chapter 31

Dimi hugged the girls tightly and wiped tears off her cheeks. “Not forever.”

“Not forever,” they chorused quietly.

She struggled to walk away from them towards the security point of the airport and when Magda’s loud sob carried behind her, she shoved her hand to her mouth and stifled her own and forced herself to not look back or she would run back to her friends and never be able to carry out her plan.

As of this morning she was officially a billionaire. Unlike their predictions, no devil had come to offer her a deal for her soul. She had not seen Miklos at all since he’d left her house on the beach the day before and she had not stopped by the house to say goodbye to Mrs. Kyriakos. She was worried it would alert Miklos to her plan to leave. She had promised the woman she could come if her plan succeeded but it had not. It had failed. Backfired in the most abysmal of ways.

She had a fake passport, fake identification and had been preparing for this day for over two years now. Since the day she had walked away from Ben knowing full well the only way she would ever get the life she deserved was if she were able to break free from her family and knowing, deep down in her soul, she could only ever get away was by running.

The only way to keep Magda and Darya safe was to not tell them where she was going. They had joked for a long time she would go to Turks and Caicos and live on the beach, but it was not in her plans. She knew they would be the first stop Miklos made when he learned she was gone but then perhaps he wouldn’t notice for awhile. He had been furious with her the day before.

She was crying bitterly as she passed security and then made her way to a bathroom near her gate. She locked herself into a stall and allowed herself to let the sobs rack her body, wrapping her arms around her middle and collapsing onto the toilet in grief.

After a long time and too many women knocking on her stall door to ask if she was okay, she finally dragged her carry-on bag out of the stall and moved to the sink and splashed water on her face. She looked like hell. She felt worse.

She dragged her bag to the seating area at the gate and sat in a quiet corner shoving her headphones on and listening to music while keeping an eye on the screen which would announce boarding. It was a three-hour flight to Puerto Vallarta Mexico. When she had considered all the places she could go from Greece to London to Tokyo, she had settled on Mexico. Somehow it didn’t seem so far away, and she also knew it was likely the last place her family would search for her.

She had a long-term rental already set up on the beach and her travel from the airport to the location was arranged. The place had six units and she had paid extra to have the caretaker stock her unit with food. She would have access to the community pool and most importantly, there was internet access.

She would stay there a month or two before moving on, perhaps to Europe or Canada. She would replace a city to settle in and she would build a new life with her new identity but first she needed to get her head on right.

She pulled her headset off as the time for boarding grew closer and she dug her passport and boarding pass out of her bag. Elektra Manos. Darya’s middle name and her mother’s maiden name. It was unlikely anyone would ever put the two together and come up with her. Her mother had gotten married at eighteen in America and rather than keep to the Grecian tradition of passing her name onto Dimitra, in honor of trying to preserve the Lykiaos blessing, Leonora had taken her husband’s name like the Americans did. It ensured any of Vasili’s heirs would have his last name. They had entirely expected if she had children, Dimitra would keep the Lykiaos name for her children thus preserving the blessing. In her opinion, it was a load of bull to twist traditions to suit a purpose but just for once, she was grateful for the fact most people wouldn’t know her mother’s maiden name. Her parents had been married nearly fourteen years when Leonora had finally had Dimitra. They had struggled with fertility, was Dimitra’s understanding, and while she knew all the time she had miscarried after her birth, she didn’t know whether the woman had problems prior to it. It was all very hush-hush.

She sighed and found her eyes blurry and tired. The crying had taken a lot of out of her. She was already missing her best friends. She made her way to the gate when her boarding group was called and then grew angry with herself for being paranoid when she noted four different men of Miklos’ height and stature hanging around the gate waiting to board. Not one of them were him and she found herself staring at one man too long and he winked playfully at her.

“Too soon, Dimi, too soon,” she chastised herself with a shake of her head.

She found her seat on the plane and grimaced when the man who had winked at her happened to be seated directly next to her.

“We’re seat buddies,” he exclaimed with a grin.

“So we are,” she offered tightly and shoved her laptop bag overhead and took the aisle seat. After she was fastened in, she noted he was staring. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he had a face made for movies and his voice was deep and gravelly. “You look like you’ve had a rough start to your day. Let me guess, you’re leaving your hopes and dreams of being an actress in Hollywood to bum it up on the beach and you are broken hearted about it.”

She made a face, “not quite.”

“My name is Trip.”

She stared at him curiously, “your parents named you Trip?”

“They did. My friends,” he pointed to a group of guys towards the back, “have mocked me my whole life but I can honestly say, I’ve never met anyone else with the same name.” He stared at her.

“What?”

“Usually when someone introduces themselves, you introduce yourself.”

“Elektra Manos,” she had three hours next to this guy. Being rude now and telling him to f**k off would likely make for an unpleasant trip.

“A very pretty name for a very pretty woman.”

“Thank you,” she fought the eyeroll and wondered how soon she could get booze on the flight.

“Oh, I know!” he said suddenly getting her attention again. “You were supposed to get married today and go on your honeymoon, but you found out he was a cheating bastard and so you’re taking the trip alone but you’re still sad about it.”

If they were going to play the game of guess why Dimi had been crying in an airport bathroom for the entirety of her flight, she was likely going to stab the guy in the neck with a coffee stir stick provided by a flight attendant. She shook her head no and looked down the aisle, to see how many more people needed to board the plane before they could take off. How had she thought this guy resembled Miklos even minutely was foreign to her. They might both be dark haired and same height, but this guy’s smile was too wide, his hair was too long, and he didn’t appear as if he had the testosterone to grow a beard. He definitely went to the gym but she guessed it was to flirt with girls and not to get stronger than his enemies so he would never be taken by surprise.

“Not going to tell me huh?”

“I don’t make a habit of spilling my secrets to strangers.”

“What resort are you staying at? Maybe we won’t be strangers forever.”

“You could be a serial rapist. I’m not telling you where I’m going.”

“Smart and pretty.” He grinned, not insulted at all by her comment. He named a high-end luxury resort she had heard of when they’d been researching places she could stay and found herself grateful she hadn’t let the girls talk her into it. They had felt she would love all the amenities catering to the rich and stupid, but she wanted a quiet place to lick her wounds. “If you are staying there, you should come replace me and we can become friends, not strangers and you wouldn’t be sad anymore.”

Her phone rang in her hand, and she grimaced at the name on it. She answered it hesitantly, “what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Miklos asked angrily.

“None of your business.”

“Airplane banners? Really?” he scoffed. “Did you think an airplane calling me a cheating man-whore was going to be worse than the s**t you’ve done all this week?”

“Nah, it was simply the cherry on top. I sent you paperwork. Did you get it?”

“Where did you send it?” he questioned her.

“I sent it to the offices.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” he mocked her. “I assume you expect me to sign them?”

“It would be good of you to do so.”

“We can both agree I am not a good man,” he spoke bitterly.

“I won’t give up,” she whispered staring at the floor of the airplane. “I have one last ace up my sleeve.”

“You’re going to take my companies hostage.” He said smugly. “Do you think I didn’t already anticipate your moves?”

She was quiet at his words.

“Do your worst, kopelia mou. Take them all. What’s mine is yours anyway.”

“I have to go,” she said suddenly as the last of the passengers were boarding.

“There will be no divorce, my little wife. I will see you soon.”

She hung up on him and gave a bitter sigh.

“That sounded intense.” Trip said with a nod. “You’re married? I wouldn’t have guessed since you don’t have a ring.”

“He doesn’t wear one so why should I?” she spoke without thinking.

“If you need to talk,” he patted his shoulder. “I have big shoulders good for crying on.”

“I’ll be fine.” She turned her phone to airplane mode and found a playlist, tucked her headphones on and tried to ignore him. She felt him shrug and then turn to look out the window.

She took her headphones off only when the flight attendant tapped her on the shoulder to ask her if she wanted a drink and she took cheap vodka and ice and frowned miserably.

“You’re just drinking it straight up?” Trip asked her as she lifted the glass to her lips forgetting to slip her headphones back up.

“I’ve never been one for mixers,” she regretted taking her headphones off.

“You’re an enigma Elektra,” he said with a big grin. “I think I’d like a chance to crack the code.”

“Why do you think I’m an enigma? Because most women just immediately fall at your feet because you’re attractive and flirty?”

“Well, yes as a matter of fact, women do like me?” he grinned broadly and held his arms up as if flexing. “I’m strong and,” he leaned closer whispering, “I’m really rich.”

“Really rich flying economy class? I think you’re a liar.” She couldn’t help but laugh at him.

He shook his head at her playfully, “I lost a bet,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of his friends further back. “One of our friends is in first class but the rest of us had to travel economy.”

“What bet did you lose?”

He gave a sheepish grin, “at the risk of being judged by you, we were at my sister’s wedding and there were a lot of single women there. My friend in first class had the job of being group cockblock. Not one of us took a girl home. He made every one of us go home alone.”

“Wait,” she sipped her vodka and looked at him curiously, noting for the first time the dimple on his left cheek. “Are you saying you and your friends made a bet to try to get laid and you had one friend whose goal was to cockblock you?”

“Yes, and the winner got to ride first class and the losers had to ride in economy where there is no leg room.” He gave an exaggerated pout, “one of my friends is six foot four and his knees are against his chest. He’s pissed. Me, I’m thinking I didn’t fare so bad. I have the most beautiful seat partner on the plane.”

“You really are a flirt,” she laughed suddenly at his words.

“And you have an incredibly beautiful smile.”

“What do you do you are so rich?” she asked suddenly.

“I run a tech company. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Littlemouth International?”

“You run Littlemouth?”

“I am Littlemouth,” he said with a grin. “My parents really didn’t want kids. Trip Baxter Littlemouth, at your service.” He gave a mock bow.

“Isn’t Littlemouth a bass? Like a fish.”

“Oh, now you’re just being sassy.” He nudged her teasingly.

“I’ve heard of your company,” she said begrudgingly.

“And what do you do for a living Elektra Manos?” Trip asked her with a smile.

She gave a reluctant smile, “I’m currently unemployed. I was working for the family business.”

“What did you do for the family business?”

“I did the computer stuff. I mean nothing which would compare to what you’re running at Littlemouth, but I can work a darn good spreadsheet.” She lied with ease.

He chuckled, “and did the husband I heard you talking to earlier work for the family business as well?”

“He runs it.”

“I don’t know if I could work with a spouse. Living with someone and then working with them day in and day out. No breaks?”

“We haven’t lived together in a long time,” she said as she finished her drink and pursed her lips. “Anyway, it’s moot because he accused me of selling company secrets to his arch nemesis.”

“Did you?”

“No. I would never but I might have pissed him off enough this week he had reason to think I f****d him over.”

“I can’t imagine a woman with a smile like yours could ever cause a man to be so pissed off.”

“I might have done serious redecorating of his house without his permission. I also might have,” she scratched her temple as if embarrassed, “wrecked the paintjob on his car.”

“His car?”

“Porsche,” she wrinkled her nose up.

“You wrecked the paintjob on his Porsche?” He appeared to be horrified at her words

“Maybe?” she pulled a face. “I haven’t seen the car for myself, but I’m told it’s not good.”

“Dare I ask why?”

“I wouldn’t. The flight only has an hour and some left and the story is eight years in the making. Let’s just say, we had a difference of opinion and things escalated.”

“Duly noted. Remind me not to piss you off when I have my Jaguar in your presence.”

“I won’t be going back to LA for a very long time so no worries of me being near your Jag.”

“What if you fall in love with me during this ten-day vacation, we are having in Puerta Vallarta?” He patted his chest, “you could replace out you like cuddling with nerdy types who run tech companies.”

“You think you’re a nerdy type?”

He leaned forward and dug into his bag he’d shoved under the seat in front of him. He pulled out a novel he was reading and held it up along with a pair of black rimmed glasses. The book was a computer science fiction, “I wear contacts but when I’m in bed and I want to read, the glasses are it. Sexy as f**k, right?”

She giggled at his words, unable to help herself. “What if those are just props to convince girls you’re harmless?”

“I’m not harmless,” he made big eyes at her. “You should see me in the kitchen. I can burn the entire place down in ten seconds. My sister feels I am a menace.”

“I can cook,” she said with seriousness. “I’m really bad at cleaning though. Oftentimes I get so wrapped up in what I’m doing I forget to come up for air. Once I was making cookies and I made six dozen of them. My best friend nearly killed me for the mess I made.”

“Then we’re a match made in heaven!” he grinned broadly. “You cook and I’ll clean. I’m very tidy. Meticulous even.”

“I’m married,” she shook her head regretfully.

“To a man you haven’t lived with for a long time,” he was now in her personal space.

As he leaned closer to her, she noticed for the first time he smelled good. Really good. Like fresh summer rain and clean. “Still married,” she leaned away from him regrettably.

“Where are you staying?” he asked persistently.

“Not at a resort. I have a private rental.”

“Well, you know where I am staying.” He looked into her eyes, “maybe we could have dinner. You can come to the resort, enjoy the all-inclusive buffet with me. If you play your cards right, I might even get you one of those drinks with the pink umbrellas from the poolside bar.”

She couldn’t help it and she busted out laughing at his words. “You’re insane.”

“I’m flirting. Is it working?”

“Not really,” she laughed at his pouting face and the way he put his bottom l*p way out. “Maybe a little.”

“Yes!” He gave a little fist pump in the air. He took a pen out of his pocket and opened up the book he had and wrote a number on it then tore it out. “This is my cell number. When you turn your phone back on,” he grinned, “I noticed you turned it completely off, you can program this into it. Call me when you’re bored out in your private rental all alone and want to come and have semi-warm ham, rice with peas and even watermelon. I’ll treat you right.”

She threw her head back and laughed at his words and tucked his number into her handbag. “I might just do that if I get tired of cooking for myself in my little kitchenette.”

“You definitely should,” he nodded.

The captain’s voice announcing they were preparing for landing made her realize how just having a little flirty chat had made the dread she’d had of getting through her flight a hundredfold better. As they continued chatting with Trip flirting in an endearing, yet silly way she couldn’t help responding to his banner.

He was nothing like Miklos. Where Miklos was bold, brash, and demanding, Trip was funny, light-hearted, and silly and his humour was self-deprecating and more than once had her giggling. When he told her he was terrified of landing and begged her to hold his hand out of pity, she couldn’t help herself and he pretended to bury his face on her shoulder in terror. Miklos would never have done anything which would have made him look weak or nothing short of the macho man he was. No, this man was nothing like her husband and as she collected her bags from the overhead bin, she found herself promising to call him once she got settled in.

At the baggage carousel she ran across him again with all of his friends and she noted the taller guy he had mentioned shaking his legs out as if they were aching. Trip winked at her and wiggled his hand beside his ear telling her to call him.

She gave a wave to him and made her way through the airport and found the driver of the car waiting for her, the man holding a placard with her name.

“Hi, I’m Elektra Manos,” she smiled to the driver.

“Welcome to Puerto Vallarta, Ms. Manos,” the driver said in broken English. “Come, come. I take you to your new home.”

She gave one last wave over her shoulder and then followed the man out of the airport, feeling, for the first time in a bit, maybe she had made the right decision.