Chapter 5 Collision

• Kostantin arrived at the imposing twenty-story building with a black fiberglass facade, where the Petrakis companies operated. He couldn't help but feel a hint of pride as he made his way inside. No one would believe that this entire economic empire had been built by the starving Vasil, driven by the deceit and mockery of the little princess.
• After their father's death, both his mother and sister returned to Greece to the maternal family's house, while he ended up working as a loader in one of the major maritime transport companies, with one of the world's most important routes, the Strait of Gibraltar, a point of connection between the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, as well as the Middle East and Asia through the Suez Canal.
• There, he saved ninety percent of his income, learning every activity carried out on a merchant ship, from the preventive maintenance of the vessel to the preparation, reception, storage, and delivery of cargo, as well as the proper functioning of the ship. He never stopped learning everything he could.
• During that time, he only had telephone communication with his mother once a month. He sent her some money from time to time to help her because he had clear goals: to amass a great economic empire and make his past tormentors pay.
• Five years later, he partnered with two colleagues, including Stavros, and bought a low-cost ship that needed several repairs to function. In order to reduce the expenses, he ended up working as an assistant in a shipyard in exchange for the ship's repair. He worked twenty consecutive hours, only slept four, had no social life, and became a recluse.
• However, a year later, he reaped the rewards. He hired a crew and took charge of directing the ship to load merchandise. Six months later, he bought the second ship under the same conditions. After years of hard work, he became the owner of one of the world's most important shipping lines, KPV, where he held the majority of the shares. Over the years, he also concentrated his activities in the construction industry and, a couple of years ago, in the automotive industry, becoming one of Europe's most successful entrepreneurs.
• He was arriving at the parking lot when his thoughts were interrupted by a call from Stavros, his friend and partner.
• "Where are you? I'm in the office, watching the security cameras, and only Simon Ferrer showed up. I don't see his daughter with him," the friend reported, a bit expectant about what might happen.
• Kosta knew how much he had waited for that moment. He had lived only for it, but he feared how cruel it could be. For all those years, he had been relentless, bad-tempered, unmoved by anything, and took his decisions to the extreme, regardless of who he trampled over. Only his sister could make him change his attitude, to a lesser extent his mother, who constantly questioned him for becoming a stranger to her, telling him that no one was to blame for their father's death. She just wished he would find a good Greek woman and give her the desired grandchildren.
• "I'm almost there, but I won't be there yet. I'm going to the cafe. Besides, Simon deserves to be kept waiting for a couple of hours. I want to make him impatient, to make it clear who has the power now. We need to drive him to desperation."
• He hung up, parked the car in the parking lot, and walked to a cafe near the building, because he needed high doses of caffeine to get energized. That had been the case since the moment he was forced to stay awake as much as possible to endure long workdays.
• The elegant figure, standing at over six feet tall, with a muscular body sculpted from hours of training, dark greenish-brown skin, and green eyes mixed with hazel in the iris pattern, black hair with brown streaks, caught the attention of the ladies as he maintained a stoic expression, unfazed by others, yet his extraordinary appearance inevitably drew the attention of those around him.
• A tense silence fell as they saw him enter, especially when they heard his deep voice.
• "The usual coffee," he demanded, pulling out a hundred euro bill from his luxurious Dunhill biometric wallet, much to the astonishment of those present. He handed the money to the attendant, saying, "If you serve me in less than a minute, you can keep the change."
• "Of course, Mr. Petrakis, it will be ready in less than a minute," the young man replied, a little nervous.
• Kostantin stood by the counter, waiting for his coffee to be handed to him, tapping his fingers impatiently and arrogantly on the surface. Luckily, they served it to him in less than fifty seconds.
• He left with the coffee in hand, walking with firm and long strides, a look of displeasure on his face as he remembered his appointment for today. To be honest, he was curious to see Natalia again. Surely her constant late nights and her life of debauchery had taken a toll on her. Although he had seen reports where she appeared, the photographs were always taken from a distance, so he could never see her face clearly. Deep down, he hoped that her beauty had faded and that she would look as hideous on the outside as she was on the inside mean, selfish, vile, and treacherous person.
• Lost in his anger, he didn't realize he was squeezing the coffee cup with great force. He was about to break it, which would have caused a great mess. He couldn't help but remember Stavros' words, "I don't understand why you still have the habit of buying coffee when you have numerous employees who can do that for you." But he refused because it was a kind of ritual, a reminder of how much his life had changed and that he was now a powerful man who, with his money, set the rules and everyone ended up obeying him.
• *****
• Natalia arrived at the Petrakis building with her father. However, just as they were about to enter, her father changed his mind about taking her to the meeting with Kostantin.
• "Natalia, I've reconsidered... I don't want you to come with me to discuss the details of the contract. That's a man's business, and I don't want you around either. Go somewhere, wait for me there, and send me a message to let me know where you are," Simon said, his mind consumed by a newly formed idea.
• He was going to negotiate the marriage alliance between Petrakis and a Ferrer, but he honestly didn't want it to be Natalia. In the end, she could turn against him and become his enemy. She was not to be trusted. He preferred to introduce Candida to the man because she was more malleable and would be on their side. That was his intention in not allowing his daughter to enter the building. That's why he ended up going in alone.
• Natalia looked at him suspiciously. Her father's attitude seemed strange to her because he had been insisting, even threatening her to accept the deal with Petrakis, and suddenly he changed his mind. It struck her as curious because he never made a decision without a hidden motive. She knew him very well. After all, he was a Ferrer, and they didn't do anything without a reason. However, she didn't want to engage in an argument at that moment. Besides, it wasn't the right place. She took a deep breath and complied without protesting. Sometimes, she grew tired of swimming against the current. She always ended up exhausted and more broken than before. Thoughts tried to break through, but she stopped them. "Not now, Natalia," she told herself.
• She began to pace back and forth, waiting for the minutes to pass. Her stomach growled with hunger because she hadn't eaten anything for breakfast. So when she saw a cafe across the street, she decided to go and get something to eat. She hurriedly walked, her heel folded, and she lost her balance, colliding with a solid muscular body that prevented her from falling, although the coffee in her hand spilled, drenching both of them.
• As he looked around, a stern gaze met his eyes, and he couldn't help but be captivated by those beautiful, piercing, intense, and hypnotizing eyes. They brought back memories of others that were very similar, memories he had not been able to forget until now.
• "You can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories." - Stanislaw Jerzy Lec.