Love or Loyalty: Billionaire Island Brides Prequel – Chapter One

Updated Post. Originally published October 2025

Great news! Love or Loyalty, the prequel to the Billionaire Island Brides series, is now available for purchase!

I couldn’t be more thrilled to share this emotional, drama-filled novella that gives you a deeper look into the lives of Raph, Neo, and Tele—before we came to know and love them in their individual books.

Most importantly, this is the story that shapes Raph into the man we first meet in Seduced by Passion. The complicated past between Raph, Helena, and Tele—hinted at in both Seduced by Passion and Consumed by Desire—finally comes to light. All the questions about that infamous love triangle… answered.

So pour a glass of wine, get comfy, and dive in.

Enjoy Chapter One of Love or Loyalty — and happy reading!

Chapter One

August 2012, Santorini, Greece…

Seated on a lounger near the edge of the walled terrace, Rapheus Giannopoulos nursed his glass of Assyrtiko, and half-listened as Dimitris and four other friends—Theo, Vasilis, Leon, and Nikko—reminisced about their childhood growing up together in Oía. In Greece for his annual summer visit to his family’s Santorini estate, Raph hooked his thumb into the pocket of his tailored, sky-blue linen trousers, and let his gaze drift across the crescent-shaped caldera.

It was minutes before sunset, and the evening sun cast the island’s white-washed buildings and blue domed churches in warm, honeyed light. The sight never failed to stir nostalgia for the home he’d left behind eighteen years ago. Every street, every stone pathway, even the air was laced with bittersweet memories—learning to swim in the Aegean Sea, listening to his grandfather’s stories while his grandmother wove grapevines into baskets, his mother calling them in for supper, and his father’s hand on his shoulders as they walked the family’s two centuries-old vineyard, explaining that it would all belong to him and his brothers one day.

How could any of them have known how drastically their lives would change?

He’d only arrived on the island this morning. Usually, he’d be in his grandfather’s garden, sitting on the same wrought-iron furniture they’d used when he was a boy, telling his pappoús about his latest development project at G3, beginning that summer’s 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle, or innocently gossiping about his brothers ahead of their arrival next week. But a chance run-in with Dimitris Kotsakis at the airport this morning had gotten in the way of tradition.

Dimitris had been at the airport to pick up his cousin, Anna, who had just completed a short internship in Athens. Anna’s flight was late, giving Dimitris plenty of time to convince Raph to come to a party at his place tonight.

He hadn’t wanted to leave his pappoús on his first night back, but the old man had insisted he go out and catch up with his friends. Now, as he surveyed the constant flow of guests moving between the living room and the terrace, listened to the buzz of conversation, and breathed in the scent of oregano and grilled lamb drifting from the kitchen, Raph was glad he’d come.

“Remember when we used to race down to the beach?” Dimitris was saying now, gesturing toward the winding paths below. “And Raph always won. Every single time.”

“We’re triplets. We have the same legs! Why does he always win?”

They all laughed at Leon’s perfect delivery of Tele’s complaint, even down to Raph’s youngest brother’s body language and facial expression.

A peacemaker even at that age, Neo, the second youngest Giannopoulos brother, would tell Tele to just accept that Raph was faster than them, to which Tele would respond with his arms open wide, “But it’s not fair!”

As the group reminisced, Raph watched the wide grin on Dimitris’ face slowly fade, as though his trip down memory lane had finally brought him to the fork in the road—the moment they had all been taught one of life’s harshest lessons: its precariousness.

Dimitris shook his head. “Nothing was the same after you all left…after the accident.”

Silence settled among the six childhood friends.

Dimitris was right; nothing was ever the same after that year, especially for the Giannopouloses. But the day Raph’s father and grandmother were killed—the day his innocence was shattered, and his stoic, controlling nature began to take shape—was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

He leaned forward, his muscular arms flexing as he reached across Dimitris’ lap for the bottle of wine at his feet. “Well, I wouldn’t say that nothing was the same.” He refilled his and Dimitris glasses before passing the Assyrtiko—a product of his own family’s vineyard—to Nikko on his right. “For starters, I’m sure Theo can still fit a few marbles up his nose.”

Leon nearly choked on his tiropitakia, laughter shaking his chest as he toppled into Vasilis, whose goose-like honk echoed over the terrace.

“Óchi, Raph,” Nikko began as he drained the contents of the bottle into his glass and reached for an unopened one from the glass topped table in the center of their circle. “That thing has grown so much since we were kids, he could probably fit a handful up there now.”

Everyone broke into unrestrained laughter as Nikko threw an arm around Theo, yanked him close, and kissed his cheek with exaggerated affection.

To anyone else, Nikko’s teasing might have stung, but Theo Simopoulos chuckled right along with his friends. Raph knew he had always been proud of the grand nose he’d inherited from his mother, who was a former Miss Hellas, and still a great beauty.

Raph was about to take a dig at Nikko’s greying temples to even the score for Theo, but his words caught in his throat when he glanced above Dimitris’ head. At the top of the stone steps leading from the living room down to the terrace, a woman stood in a sleeveless, floor-length silk dress, the fabric flowing gently with the evening breeze. She was breathtaking—her dress clinging provocatively to her slender, olive-toned frame, and her light brown hair cascading in lustrous, loose waves, capturing the last of the sun’s golden light.

At the sight of her, the din of the party faded to white noise. Raph held his breath as her dainty chin lifted, her eyes scanned the crowd, and his heart pounded in time with the pulsing house music spilling from the speakers.

Raph was sure he didn’t recognize her, but he certainly knew the wide-eyed brunette to her left. He hadn’t seen Anna Kotsakis, Dimitris’ cousin, in almost six years; the annoying little girl who used to follow him and his friends around the village when they were children had since grown into a curvaceous and beautiful woman—though her dark features still favored the men in her family.

“Hey.” Raph tapped Dimitris’ knee with the back of his hand. “Who’s that with Anna?”

Dimitris followed his gaze and grinned. “Ah, that’s Helena—her best friend. Anna met her at university in Athens.” He studied Raph’s face with growing amusement. “Why? You interested?”

Raph was thinking he’d never been more interested in anything in his life, but before he could respond, Dimitris stood and waved to his cousin. “Anna, apó edó!” he shouted, drawing her attention.

Anna’s smile widened at the sight of her cousin. She took hold of the mystery woman’s hand and led her down the steps and onto the terrace.

Raph’s palms grew sweaty as Anna and her friend walked toward them, the friend moving as gracefully as a Mediterranean swan gliding across the surface of a calm lake.

As they drew nearer, Raph set his wine glass on the table, stood, and wiped his palms across his thighs.

“Hey cous, I want to introduce Hel—”

“Ah!” Anna squealed as Raph—anxiously tugging on the hem of his blue, knit polo shirt—stepped from behind Dimitris. “Raph! I didn’t know you were here!” She threw her arms around him and kissed both his cheeks. “Are Neo and Tele here, too?”

He shook his head. “Óchi, not until next week. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with just me ‘til then.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can find some use for you.” Anna eyed Raph playfully, like a cat ready to pounce.

He—and everyone else—knew she had always had a little crush on him, but it didn’t matter how beautiful she was, or how close their families were, he just couldn’t see her as anything more than a little sister.

Before anyone had time to think too long on what “use” Anna had in mind for Raph, Dimitris cut in. “Good to see you, Helena.” He kissed her cheek once. “I want you to meet Raph Giannopoulos—one of my best friends growing up.” Placing his hand at the small of Helena’s back, Dimitris turned her toward Raph, as though presenting her as a gift to a king. “Raph, meet Helena Christou.”

Raph’s throat went dry as he looked into her sparkling eyes. They were as deep and blue as the ocean surrounding them, with specks of silver that glinted like sunlight dancing on water——alive, probing, and charged with energy.

Her smooth, pink lips parted easily into a warm smile. “Chárika, Raph,” she said, extending her hand.

Electricity surged through him as he closed his hand around hers, and her thumb lightly brushed his—a simple gesture that made him sweat despite the cool Meltemi winds. When he finally found his voice, it was little more than a whisper. “Chárika polý, Helena.”

“Anna, did you get tickets for Mykonos yet?” Dimitris gave Raph a subtle wink and led his cousin a few steps away, giving Raph and Helena a chance to get to know each other.

Raph nudged Helena toward the edge of the terrace, away from the prying eyes and ears of his friends. “So, is this your first time in Oía?” It was the kind of small talk that Raph hated, but he couldn’t think of anything more interesting to say. In her presence, his thoughts—usually ordered and direct—were a jumbled mess.

“In Oía, yes.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the movement drawing Raph’s attention to the graceful curve of her long neck. “But I’ve been to Firá several times with my mom.”

“Oh, did you have friends there?” He leaned against the low stone wall, angling his body toward hers.

“Sort of. There used to be a little gallery on Dekigala Street.”

“I knew that place—next to Villa Namphio?”

She nodded. “My mom had a few exhibits there when I was in high school.”

“She’s a painter then?”

“Was… She passed almost a year ago now. Cervical cancer. They didn’t catch it early enough.”

“I’m so sorry, Helena.” His heart broke for her, having experienced the debilitating pain of losing a parent himself. He wanted to reach for her hand, but instead took a half-step closer, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “What was she like—your mom?”

Helena’s entire being glowed when she spoke of her “rather bohemian” mother, a painter and sketch artist who had raised Helena on her own, surrounded by the creatives, collectors, and eccentrics who peopled the international art scene.

She told him about the months they’d spent living at a monastery in Bulgaria when she was eleven, the parties where strait-laced politicians and other public figures partied as though no one was watching, and the super yacht that had been at their disposal in Monaco—a gift from one of her mom’s adoring, wealthy benefactors.

Their conversation flowed naturally, Raph thought, like slipping into a familiar rhythm. He found himself mesmerized, hanging on her every word, before Anna eventually pulled Helena away to meet some other friends.

Throughout the evening, as the party ebbed and flowed, they found themselves drifting back toward each other like planets caught in each other’s orbit. Raph told her about G3, the real estate development company that he and his brothers started while still undergraduates at UC Berkeley, and how with strategic planning, generous investors, passion, and a bit of luck, they’d grown it into an international enterprise, with annual revenue nearing one billion dollars, deals on three continents, and thousands of employees around the world.

And he learned that Helena had recently moved to Los Angeles, working as an art acquisition specialist for The Marlowe Group. Her expertise in Southeast Asian and Indian antiquities, and the relationships she’d fostered with her mother’s friends, she explained, allowed her to move through the insulated cliques of the fine art world with ease, and had positioned her perfectly for a life in L.A.

“I needed a fresh start after Mama died,” she confided, as they sat on stools in the kitchen, snacking on spanakopita, the rich, salty flavors pairing perfectly with the crisp summer wine. “L.A. gave me that—new city, new friends, new possibilities.” She absentmindedly toyed with a silver locket necklace, her slender, French-manicured fingernails caressing the polished metal.

Raph found himself opening up more easily than usual—sharing details about the accident that claimed his father and grandmother when he was six, prompting his mother to move him and his brothers to Napa Valley where she was from originally—her version of a fresh start.

“It must have been difficult,” Helena said softly, “losing so much so young.”

And he knew she understood.

Helena may not have been as young as he and his brothers, but at least they’d had each other. She was alone in this world. With her only relative, a much older sister of her mom’s, dying several years ago, Helena had no family to speak of, no one to love and protect her, or stand by her through life’s trials and tribulations.

No one, until now, Raph thought, feeling his life’s trajectory shift.

By the time the crowd thinned, they were wrapped within each other’s arms in a dark alley beneath Dimitris’ terrace, locked in a passionate, explosive kiss that stole Raph’s breath and set his nerves on fire.

His need for her was primal, and the taste of her sweet and wild—a blend of wine and want that left him dizzy as he devoured all she offered. Their hips were in perfect alignment, and her back arched as he cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her firm nipples through the silky material of her dress, her soft moans filling his mouth as she rubbed against his arousal.

He was aching to explore every inch of her in the privacy of his bedroom, desperate to show her with his body what words couldn’t express—that she’d awakened something fierce and consuming in him.

And the scent of her was intoxicating—rosemary and olive oil soap, evoking memories of summer evenings with his grandmother, before tragedy befell his family, and he was taken from the small, arid island of his birth, the home he still loved.

“Helena!” Anna whispered softly from the terrace above.

They broke apart, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Helena, we’re leaving! Meet me out front.”

Raph felt like their future hinged on this moment, and what was said and done next. He stared at her as a gentle breeze swept her hair across her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and Raph couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

Her smile was sly as she raked her nails up his arms—still wrapped around her waist. “So soon?”

“Not soon enough,” he confessed unashamedly, brushing his lips against hers, breathing in her wild essence.

They exchanged numbers, a charged silence hanging between them, speaking louder than any words, and Raph found himself memorizing the way moonlight caught in her blue eyes.

“Tomorrow?” he asked again, praying he wouldn’t have to hound Anna in the coming months to help him arrange a date with Helena. Because he knew if not tomorrow, if not the next day, his heart would shatter if he didn’t see her again.

Her slightly mischievous smile, the bright flame in her eyes, told him “yes”, though all she said was, “Call me, and we’ll see,” before she turned and slipped back up the stairs along the side of Dimitris’ house.

Raph lingered on the terrace, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat thrumming through his body. He touched his lips, the faint taste of her kiss still there, and the fading scent of her on his skin. He couldn’t explain the overwhelming feeling in his heart, at least not with reason or logic. It was as though his world had tilted off its axis, and for the first time in his life, he felt something he couldn’t categorize or control.

He didn’t think he minded at all.

Continue reading chapter two to find out Helena’s thoughts about her first encounter with Raph. Does she feel the same way, or…