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I startle and jolt out of whatever frenzy I’m in.
I look up at Astro, feeling the weight of my vulnerability and being caught.
"Eve, what's wrong?" he asks softly, his eyes filled with empathy as he doesn’t bother to remove his shorts and climbs into the water.
He comes up to me, his hand gentle on my shoulder, and looks at the bloodied clothes and blankets floating in the water and soap on the edge resting on a rock.
"I... I can't," I manage to choke out, gesturing helplessly at the stubborn stains. "And my period... it's too much." I burst into tears, and I couldn't care less at this point that I have snot running through my nose.
Astro's brow furrows in concern as he realizes the depth of my distress. He immediately wraps his arm around my back and draws me tight against his chest.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs reassuringly. "Let's take a breather. We'll figure this out together." His touch is a lifeline, grounding me amidst the turmoil.
Sniffling, I nod weakly, grateful for his presence. As we stand in the lagoon, his comforting presence and calming words begin to soothe the storm within me. Yet, the relentless ache in my body and the persistent stains on my clothes serve as a harsh reminder of my vulnerability in this unforgiving place.
"This is only natural, Princess. But if it’s us you're worried about, then I think you should know we expected it. I mean, you’re a woman. Women get periods. We're not grossed out by it either if that’s what you’re afraid of. Some women have light ones, others heavy. It’s like breasts— they come in all different shapes and forms.”
“Omigod, Astro, you can’t compare women’s periods to their breast sizes. What the fuck is wrong with you!”
Astro's eyes crinkle with amusement as he smiles warmly, a gentle reassurance in his expression. “There’s my girl. My princess is back.”
I try to push him away playfully, but he tightens his grip around me protectively and chuckles,his laughter rumbling against my cheek.
“You’re such a bastard,” I say, mock-punching his chest. He leans down and kisses the top of my head, his touch tender and familiar.
“Love you too, Princess.”
His words catch me off guard. It’s not the first time Astro’s said it, but this time, it feels different—more heartfelt, more vulnerable.
I lift my head from his chest and meet his gaze, searching for sincerity in his eyes.
“Do you really mean that?”
“I should hope so, luv,” he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. “Back home, all this talk about love and feelings could get a gun to our heads.”
“I don’t get it. Aren’t you allowed to love?”
He exhales heavily, his shoulders relaxing under my touch. As I feel the weight of his world momentarily lift from his chest, I realize how rare these moments are—moments where Astro allows himself to be genuinely open and honest.
Our eyes lock, and in that silent exchange, I see a depth of emotion that words struggle to convey.
“Yeah, we’re allowed to love. The power, the money, the respect, the thrill of danger, the adrenaline rush associated with living on the edge of the law. But love like you and I doesn’t exist in my world. The men in my world knock up a couple of pretty birds and breed more spawn like me to run the family firm. And if the females cause problems, you eliminate the source of the problem.”
I feel Astro's grip tighten around me, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Is that why your dad killed your mom?" I ask softly, sensing the weight of his words.
He looks down at me, his ordinarily vibrant green eyes darkening with pain.
"My mother lived a separate life from him. She was an artist in her own right," he says, shaking his head sadly. "Her family was part of a Birmingham firm, but she had no connections to their activities. She met my dad when she was an art student in London. I don’t know much about how they met, but he was fifteen years older than her, and she was only 17. Her college had some art show, and he bought every piece of her work with a note; the sale was a condition that she had dinner with him. Whatever happened was history because I don’t remember them ever living in the same home. My dad lived in theheart of his operations in East London, and my mum’s home was in Acton, West London."
"How did he kill her?" I press gently, my heart aching for the pain in his eyes.
"Her uncle double-crossed him over some job. So he sent her head in a box delivered by one of his henchmen to their Birmingham headquarters. Since then, they’ve been rivals and at war. But Dad’s much more powerful. If he wanted to, he could have crushed them with his thumb, but he prefers to play. Much like a cat playing with a mouse. It’s the back-and-forth chase, catch, and release he loves."
"That’s awful," I whisper, horrified. "I’m so sorry about your mom. I always had in my head that the Greeks are men of passion, you know, all that jazz."
"Well, you asked about love in my world," Astro says with a bitter laugh. "As I said, we’d get our balls cut off if it’s anything other than criminal. Greeks are passionate, and my psychotic Hellenic father can get really feverish. You felt how thick the scar on my back neck is. That’s a pure example of his zealous love. He carved so deep to express his craving for me that he hit bone."
