Miklos entered the house and found it strangely quiet. “Mrs. Kyriakos?”
She poked her head from the kitchen. “I’m in here. Just tidying up.”
“Where’s Dimitra?” he frowned as he walked in her direction.
“Home, I imagine?” she paused, “I mean at her beach house. She had a meeting with the bank today. She said you knew.”
“I told her to get her clothes brought here and we would leave together,” he gave an exasperated sigh. “She is fighting me tooth and nail and to what end? She won’t refuse her father or family orders.” He sat on the stool Dimitra had occupied earlier in the morning. “I owe you an apology for earlier. I had expected she would confess to what she did.”
“You do remember she is Vasili’s daughter?” Mrs. K gave him a quizzical glance over her shoulder. “He raised her like a so
