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Hector leaned back in his leather chair, savoring the feel of its buttery soft cushions yielding to the tired muscles of his back. He loosed his tie and proceeded to pluck open the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Though silk was soft, he always wore a simple white tee beneath the material, preferring the feel of cotton against his skin.
Having been elected to take over his retired father's position as CEO of Troy Incorporated, a well-established electronic company, Hector was faring better than he could have hoped. He gave the stockholders an abundance of confidence; he was young, smart, and good-looking, the last of which should not have made any difference but Hector was learning it was very important.
"When people see you, they see your father," Lysander, a middle-aged board member had told him when he first started. "But they also see you. Hector, you are strong presence like your father, Priam, but you also earn the respect of others. You have good judgment and have fine moral character. You make decisions to protect the employees of this company, something that I'm sure those guys on Wall Street a heart attack."
Smiling at the last part, Hector wondered how much time he could continue to sacrifice before he ran out. A new product was hovering on the horizon, dubbed "Apollo's Chariot" due to its impressive information distributing capabilities. The money required to promote such a product would definitely put the company at risk, but a rival was also planning a similar device.
I'm glad they agreed the sign a merger, Hector thought, reading over the last line of his latest report. They have twice as many employees working for them, and the only reason we are holding our own is because of some tricky deals I managed to work out. But this merger will guarantee the future of this company, at least in some form.
Hearing his cell ring at his hip, he flipped it open; sighing when he saw it was Paris. He lamented his decision to turn on the cell on after the board meeting ended. As he always did when he got a call from his younger brother, Hector braced himself for the absolute worst.
"Hector, I've met the most incredible girl!" Paris exclaimed, causing Hector to pull the phone from his head about six inches. Very cautiously, he returned it to his ear.
"What's this one's name?" he asked tiredly, leaning his elbow on the table.
"Helen," breathed Paris excitedly. "She's the most beautiful woman in the world. Eyes like brilliant aquamarines, skin as smooth as alabaster, hair the color liquid gold…and she's so very sweet and funny and lovely…"
Hector knew his brother was serious when he went beyond physical characteristics. Paris was infatuated with the looks of plenty of women, but all of them had been strictly physical attractions. Hector had a million questions but settled on what he considered to be the biggest possible obstacle for his brother. "She's not married, is she?"
"No, she's not married," Hector's sigh of relief was cut short, "she's only engaged. Um, I think you might have heard of him before…some big electronics name like you…his name is, damn, what is it…oh! Menelaus."
All oxygen had left Hector's lungs at the mention of that name.
"Paris, do you realize that he and I have just signed the papers for a merger?" Hector hissed. "If he finds out about you two, he'll back out of the agreement. It could spell our doom, Paris. And you know he is not someone to cross. He's absolutely ruthless, Paris. Please tell me you haven't made a move yet."
"I've been commissioned to capture Helen's essence on canvas," Paris said. "Menelaus is infatuated with her beauty, but not much else, because he's always with other women. I'm supposed to do a painting of her."
"Please don't tell me this turned into a nude portrait," Hector grumbled, gripping his cell tightly in his hand.
"Umm…" Hector groaned when his brother trailed off.
"Damn it, Paris, I bought you that studio so you could develop your art skills, not attract women!" Hector said. "How many painting have you actually completed that haven't involved you seducing the subject?"
"At least I have a love life!" Paris shot back.
"But it always gets you into trouble!" Hector reminded him angrily.
"Soon, Brother, I shall be out of your hair," Paris said, causing a bad feeling to come over his brother.
"What are you talking about?" Hector demanded.
"Helen and I are running away," Paris said decisively. "I've bought tickets for a flight; we leave tonight."
"You two are what?" Hector asked incredulously. "I don't think so!"
"Are you going to stop us?" Paris challenged. "Will you tell Menelaus about us?"
Rubbing his temples in frustration, Hector glared angrily at the table in front of him. "Paris, you cannot do this. Your hormones are always getting you into trouble!"
"At least I have hormones," Paris snapped. "When was the last time you were with a girl?"
"And when was the last time you weren't totally dependent on me for every aspect of your life?" Hector returned, ending the call before his brother could respond. Knowing the instant ring of his phone was Paris, he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket, where it slid against his car keys.
Seizing the handle of his briefcase in a brutal fist, he swung it off the table and it swung in time to his angry stride. Hector nodded curtly to anyone who crossed his path to the parking lot. He fished out the keys to his black Mercedes.
"Damn Paris," he muttered for the thousandth time, and got into his car. As usual he kept the radio off, preferring to drive in silence. He pulled out of the parking garage, feeling somewhat guilty knowing he was not in the proper shape to be driving a car.
About two blocks from his penthouse apartment, a red sports car smashed into his bumper. Wondering what else could possibly make his bad day any worse, he took a deep breath before getting out of his car.
A wide-eyed, trembling girl stood meekly by the back of his car, her clear blue eyes brimming with tears. The French manicured nails that tipped her hands were covering her mouth in horror. The cheap waitress uniform she wore was at odds with such an indulgence.
"Oh sir, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, wringing her hands nervously. She was pacing around in tight, anxious circles that Hector would have found amusing had she not just incurred thousands of dollars of damages to his car. Granted, he did have access to hundreds of millions of dollars, but was known primarily as a miser whose only big expenditure was now damaged.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," Hector muttered, looking her over. Her blonde, curly hair was tied back in a bun, but the outdated hairstyle could not hide the fact she was absolutely stunning. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman Hector had ever seen. Her blue eyes were heavily lined with black kohl, which was running down her face with what Hector guessed to be two coats of black mascara.
"No, let me write down my information," she insisted, running to her car to fish out insurance papers. She took a pad from her waitress apron and began writing. Finishing in less than thirty seconds, her trembling hand presented him with her name, insurance company, and phone number.
The girl did not like the odd look that crossed the man's face when he looked the paper over. Pausing, she nearly jumped from her skin when he raised his eyes questioningly at her.
"Your name is Helen?" he asked after a moment. "Do you happen to know a young man named Paris? He's my brother."
A look of absolute horror washed over her face, her eyes widening in a telltale sign of recognition. A gasp escaped her small pink lips before she wheeled around to flee. Hector easily caught her arm.
"Wait, it's only a question," Hector said softly, feeling her collapse against him. "I'm not going to tell on you, if that's what you're worried about."
Anguish and relief warred on the girl's face, with the latter eventually winning. "I know it's wrong, but I cannot help myself," she sobbed. "I can't tell anyone, don't you see? My parents are still back in Greece, they gave up everything so I could come here! I'm so ashamed to still be a waitress, but I'm even more ashamed that I'm actually going to marry Menelaus!"
Hector was glad that New York was full of unsympathetic people too wrapped up in their own business, because had they been in any other city Hector was pretty sure they'd be causing a scene.
"Here, sit down," Hector said, awkwardly motioning to the pavement. The girl looked so unhinged that he feared she might accidentally hurt herself.
"I need a green card to stay here because my visa runs out in three months," she wailed, slumping down on the sidewalk next to him. "But I can't marry just anyone because I need some form of security. I'm basically selling my body to him, that awful man. Oh, I'm such a terrible person, aren't I, Hector?"
Wondering how she knew his name, Hector patted her on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do.
"And when I walked into that studio and saw Paris, that smile he gave me…" Helen sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I realized that I could never go back to the meaningless existence I had originally planned. I can't believe I would have let myself marry Menelaus. Paris really loves me, and I'd gladly marry him because I love him too, but Menelaus would kill him."
Hector, unbeknownst to the crying girl, nodded. He knew what Menelaus was like. The man was not really a bad one, but he could be brutal and cold-blooded. He had a great deal of pride that Hector knew would come into play.
"I met Menelaus when I was walking along the sidewalk," Helen admitted. "I had just gotten off from work, and I didn't have a car yet, seeing as how he bought one for me, and as I was walking a limousine pulled up next to me. I was scared; I didn't know what he wanted or what he was going to do. I was terrified enough that I got into the car, but he didn't touch me. He took me home then asked me to some party he was having."
Hector listened intently, trying to figure out exactly how much Helen meant to Menelaus.
"I told him I didn't have anything good enough to wear, but he fixed that," Helen said sadly. "And he was very infatuated with me for a time, but he soon lost interest in me. He's got a new obsession now, some runway model I think. And even though I know Menelaus isn't that bad a man, his unfaithfulness killed any kinds of positive feelings I've had towards him."
"If you don't mind my asking, then why would he marry you?" Hector asked.
Helen laughed, a strangely brittle sound that Hector found disquieting. "I'm to be his trophy wife," she muttered, her shame turning to resentment. "I'm beautiful, and that's the only thing I've got. He will be able to take me whenever he wants; I'll be his wife. Whenever he gets to tired to look for a new girl, I'll always be there for him to have. And if I break the engagement or divorce him he will look bad, and I know he will make sure I get deported. He pays my family a large amount of money every month, but if I leave him I'll go home without anything to give to my family. He holds it over my head."
"And there's no way for you to get out of this?" Hector asked.
"For some reason he has that odd focus on marrying me," Helen murmured, her arms wrapping around her body protectively. "But Paris has a different intensity that I could have never imagined. He is focused on me too, but only me, as if every breath he takes is taken just so he can live one moment longer with me. I've never been cherished by anyone, not even my family. Oh, it's so incredible! Haven't you ever been in love?"
Sighing in favor of giving her a brusque reply, Hector stood up.
"I'm going to call the operator and see if they can get anyone out here to tow your car," he told her as he dialed. "It's in bad shape, and concern yourself with the cost, I'll pay for it. I can take you to wherever you were headed."
"Oh, um, I was planning to go to Paris's studio," she admitted quietly. "But only to break it off. I don't want to see Paris hurt because of me."
"It's not your fault, don't worry about it," Hector reassured her. Having reached the operator, he requested a towing service and was promptly connected. Arrangements were brief, and Hector snapped his phone shut and turned to Helen.
"Do you love my brother?" he asked her seriously.
"Yes, I do," Helen said, and it was fairly obvious. Hector, who had no real skill in interpreting deeper human emotions, was remarkably skilled in determining whether or not someone was lying to him.
"Okay then, don't break his heart," Hector said. "Just make him happy."
Helen smiled, a simply radiant sight. She retrieved her suitcase from the back of her car before it was towed. The brown, battered bag looked terrible against the black leather interior of Hector's car. As Helen seated herself in the passenger's seat, Hector glanced back at where her car was being towed away.
Please, God, tell me why I'm doing this, Hector thought grimly, turning his key in the ignition.
Paris stood from his chair at the first knock on his door. He dropped his sketch, which he had not quite finished, onto his desk. Paris usually despised working from photographs, but he was absolutely enraptured by an Yves St. Laurent ad he spied in one of his old girlfriend's issues of Vogue. He had bought the edition himself but could not quite capture the model's spirit.
The failure to correctly illustrate her coupled with his argument made Paris very grouchy indeed. Grumbling all the way to door, he got quite a shock when he opened it to reveal Hector.
"Hector, this is a surprise," he said. "If you're here about what I said earlier, I wanted to tell you that I didn't really—"
Hector waved his hand to cut him off. "I was just bringing something to you." He stepped away, revealing Helen. The look in Paris's eye was one Hector had never seen before.
"Helen," breathed Paris, embracing her firmly. She was held within the tight circle of his arms, so joyous she wept. "I haven't seen you in ages. I'd thought that you—"
"Shh, I'm here now," she said softly, running her hands through his shaggy dark hair. "Your brother and I had a little talk. He prevent us from seeing each other, but we cannot continue to meet here."
"Then what can we do?" Paris asked, looking to his brother.
"Run away," Hector said. "It's too late to take back what has already been done. Menelaus will find out, and when he does he will come after you both. Just go somewhere out of the way, someplace he'd never look. I don't want anyone dead."
"What are you going to do?" Paris asked, her dark eyes full of concern.
"I'm going to try and keep him from finding out as long as possible," Hector admitted. "As much as I hate lying to him, I need the time to work out more deals. By the time he finds out, maybe all the preparations I'll be securing will cushion the blow. Spartan Enterprises has the power to take down our company."
"No!" Helen declared, breaking her embrace with Paris, though she winced at the loss of his comforting touch. "I don't want anyone to suffer because of me. If I broke off my relationship with Paris, there could still be the chance that he might not find out."
Hector shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "Menelaus might be coarse and unrefined, but he isn't really the real problem. His brother Agamemnon is the real problem. He's the older one, and absolutely unfeeling, too. Even if Menelaus would somehow forgive you, do you really think Agamemnon would miss the opportunity to shut us down?"
Helen grew pale. "I'd only met him once," she revealed. "He's usually in Los Angeles overseeing the new building developments. He was at the party when Menelaus announced our engagement. I've overheard him telling one of the board members that he thought I was a fool."
"Will this Agamemnon be able to find us, though?" Paris asked her.
"He's got nearly unlimited resources," Helen said somberly. "And he's got Achilles."
"That advertising executive?" Paris asked, for once impressing Hector with his memory.
"He's more than that," Helen said. "Though he heads a ridiculously successfully, cutting-edge advertising company, his prices are astronomical. Menelaus has complained many times how the cost of hiring them was barely worth the return on the product. Besides, they whisper that he does…other things…"
"Like what?" Paris asked.
"Kill people," Helen whispered, looking at Hector. "He'll kill you, Hector, if he finds out you've helped us."
Hector looked grim, and addressed his confused looking brother. "Remember when Lysander had that car accident last year?" he asked quietly. "The brakes were cut. But less than a month before his death, Lysander had gotten into a fight with Patrocles, Achilles cousin. Patrocles was beaten badly and Achilles was furious."
"Hector, Achilles will kill you if Menelaus pays him enough," Helen said. "They despise one another, but Achilles loves the prestige of wrestling insanely high payments from such a greedy man."
"But why go through the trouble of having a day job if he gets paid so much money killing people?" Paris wondered.
"So he can meet women," Hector said simply. "He's the one night stand type, so I hear."
"Menelaus tells me some horrid stories," Helen told them. "But that's not the point. Listen, we have to leave now, Paris."
Paris nodded. "You're right. Hector, I will call you when we arrive at our location, but I can't tell you where we're going quite yet."
Hector gave his brother a firm embrace. "Good luck, Paris. Don't get caught."
"I won't," Paris promised, picking up a previously unnoticed suitcase. He rushed out the door, followed closely by Helen, who paused in the doorway to give him a grateful smile. Closing the door, Hector sat down at his brother's desk, trying to ease the weariness that he felt.
What a disorganized brother I have, he thought drolly as he pushed aside stacks of papers. Shaking his head when I woman's magazine fell onto the floor, Hector picked it up, glancing at the cover.
How can anyone like all this artsy stuff? Hector wondered, eyeing the cover with distaste. The model's back was presented, completely bare, decorated with tattoos, gemstones, and body paint. The graceful column of her neck was draped with countless tiny gold chains. An abundance of auburn hair was arranged atop her head.
"What nonsense," Hector muttered, dropping the magazine back onto the desk. He stood and walked to the door, throwing it open. He made sure the coast was clear before turning out the lights and closing the door. He locked it with the key his brother had left behind.
Now it's only a matter of time, Hector knew. Only a matter of time before this all blows up in my face.
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Author's Notes: My, that was sort of long for a first chapter. I hope everyone liked it. If you want me to continue (or stop) please email me or review. Check out my other stories if you liked this; all my works are Hector-centric. The next chapter introduces more characters :)