Free Trust: Betrayed by Cristiane Serruya Page A

in Mykonos.
    Niarchos had to use lots of gentle persuasion to take Ethan out of the darkness of his room. Ethan refused to talk about his feelings, even to the therapist his grandfather made him see, and his depression continued. Niarchos had also started seeing a therapist to see if he could help Ethan. In his last attempt, Niarchos took him to a psychiatrist, who prescribed anti-depressives and that seemed to help a bit.
    Since the only things that make Ethan feel a little better were his studies, his books and his computer, Niarchos enrolled him in the best school, paid private tutors to teach him languages and bought all the books and new technology he wanted. Ethan had a very sharp mind and, although he was socially withdrawn, he was a sponge when it came to knowledge.
    Still, that wasn’t enough to make the haunted look and the depressed state go away.
    Niarchos had decided he would change that. Even if he had to betray his own grandson’s trust. He reasoned with himself that it was small price to pay to teach Ethan the ways of life.
    “I want to talk to you, son. Come outside,” Niarchos ordered lightly and crossed the threshold to the veranda, sitting on the comfortable chair.
    Ethan eyed Niarchos as he crossed his legs. He blinked nervously.
Stop this, Ethan. You know Grandpa doesn’t like you blinking like this.
    Niarchos smiled gently at Ethan and motioned for the chair beside him. “My son, I need your help.”
    Ethan’s lips opened in a smile, “Of course, Grandpa. Whatever you need.”
    Niarchos sat more comfortably and launched into his prepared speech.
    Friday, January 27 th , 1989.
    10.21 a.m.
    Niarchos motioned to Ethan, who was standing stiffly beside him, and spoke in his accented French, “And this is my grandson, Ethan Ashford. Ethan, this is my dear friend, Isis, and her daughter, Eve.”
    “You never told me you had such a handsome grandson.” The older brunette pursed her lips in a charming pout at Niarchos. She put her manicured hand on Ethan’s cheek, before bending and pressing her face to his. “Where have you been hiding, gorgeous?”
    Ethan smiled, embarrassed, but said in his perfect and fluent French, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    “They are going to live with us for a few months,” Niarchos explained.
    Ethan’s gaze lingered on Isis. She was a mature woman of fifty. Tall, curvy, a bit on the plump side, she had luscious brown hair that touched her shoulders and a very interesting and charming face. Then his gaze moved to Eve and paused there.
    The teenage girl that was shyly looking down. He thanked his tanned skin for hiding his blushing cheeks. He was arrested by her beauty and delicate movements.
    Eve was average height, with a lean body full of curves in the right places and peachy cream skin. Her hair was long and ink-black. Her nose was up-turned and her mouth small and full. She was wearing an expensive light-pink dress and pink and white flats. His grandfather had described her perfectly: a shy girl that had just left a Catholic boarding school.
    To Ethan, she looked like an angel.
    An angel he had a sudden and uncontrollable desire to touch.
    “Eve is starting at your school this month, Ethan.” Isis softly nudged Eve in Ethan’s direction. “Eve, say hello to Ethan. He is going to help you adjust, aren’t you, Ethan?”
    Ethan nodded and opened his mouth to say something, when Eve raised her eyes and, with an enchanting smile, greeted him, “
Bonjour.
”
    He discovered that her eyes where a beautiful shade of chocolate. He felt as his grandfather pressed a hand on his back, motioning for him to kiss the girl. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. She blinked twice, smiled a bit more and then looked down again.
    “Good morning, Eve.” He liked the way her name sounded. “Nice to meet you.”
    Isis smugly smiled to Niarchos, who said, “Let’s move to the terrace and have some coffee while Athena arranges your things in your rooms.”
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