Chapter 11

• ADIRA
• It was well past the witching hour, and I was still wide awake. Sleep had evaded me tonight, leaving me tangled up in the sheets, thoughts of him plaguing me. The last person I wanted to think about, yet the only one who consumed every corner of my mind like a malignant tumor. Andronikos. Just the thought of his name alone felt like swallowing the finest whiskey—burning, but intoxicatingly sweet.
• With a frustrated sigh, I threw the damp sheets off my body, swung my legs over the bed side and made my way towards the door. The balmy Greece summer air clung to my skin, making my tank top and skimpy shorts stick uncomfortably to my body. Barefoot, I padded downstairs to the kitchen, hoping that a glass of water would help cool the inferno raging inside me. But I know too well that water won’t be enough to quench this particular fire.