Sorry it's so short, I had a really hard time writing this one. Idk why, I think it's because I'm either tired or I'm just not in a writing mood today. Anyways hopefully I write a better longer chapter tonight!:)

"I can't believe you just did that," I said, shaking my head and glaring at Marco.

He responded by flashing me a smile and reaching over to kiss my cheek.

"Do you have any self-control at all?"

"Not when it comes to you baby," he whispered huskily in my ear.

I pushed him back to his side of the taxi with a frown. "Aren't you afraid people are going to send those pictures to the press? I mean you had a bra on your head and you had me over my shoulder. The paps will have a field day with that."

"I don't care about the paparazzi mia regina. Besides, they don't care for me anyways, only my bro-" Marco cut himself off before he could say 'brother'. His good mood is suddenly gone and he stopped trying to reach for me.

Minutes passed by in silence. Marco refused to look at me, instead his eyes trained on the city lights beyond his window.

"I can't believe you're making me do this." I sighed and leaned my head against the head rest, finally welcoming the idea of sleep.

Marco eventually looked over at me, a small smile playing at his lips. "You won't regret it polo. I promise."

I laughed tiredly. "You hardly ever call me polo."

"Because you always thought it was lame," he argued with amusement.

"It is!"

"Well too bad."

"We're here," the taxi driver said from up front.

Marco handed him some bills before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the cab.

"Don't you need your clothes," I asked Marco confused as he pulled my suitcase out of the trunk. Thankfully by now he took off my bra.

He set my suitcase down beside me and before I could grab it myself he popped the handle and pulled it and me behind him. "I didn't bring any."

"What do you mean you didn't bring any? Xander told me you were coming from San Diego."

"Yeah I did," he nodded his head. "But as soon as I heard about where you were I dropped everything I was doing and hopped on the next plane to Miami."

"Oh," I told him, feeling my heart flutter inside my chest. He dropped everything to come see me? I definitely don't deserve him. At that realization I rip my hand from his grasp but when he looks at me with confusion. I play it off by adjusting my shirt to the heat.

Thankfully Marco let me change clothes before he lifted me over his shoulder and out the door into the early morning Miami streets.

"What do you do anyways? You got half the company when you graduated college right?"

We stepped into the air conditioned air-port and to say that it feels like heaven would be an understatement. I never realize how hot Miami is until I stand next to a working air conditioner.

"Hardly," he told me but he doesn't look the least bit upset about it. "I got the all the stadiums around the world and the teams that we own as well, also a small island in Greece."

I laugh thinking about the first pro basketball team that Leo ever bought. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face for two weeks and from that point on he kept buying more and more teams as well as stadiums. Eventually at least three days a week were devoted by the whole house to watching sports.

"How did your father take that?" I find it hard to believe that Leo would give up his most precious parts of his work.

"He gave it to me freely. It was his way of trapping me into the family."

"What do you mean?" We stop in front of the ticket counter that has a line as long as the Nile. Normally I would groan and protest but since I'm standing next to Marco than I don't feel like I would rather gouge out my eye balls.

"I told my family about the proposal and wanting to run away with you," he said and my heart stops beating for a minute. I knew that Maria and Leo would find out somehow but hearing it from Marco's lips is different. I can't help but imagine how they reacted; not well I assume.

"And?"

"And Ma freaked out and begged my Dad to find a way to make me stay," he said, anger covering his face.

"Why is that so bad? I thought you were always going to get a part of the company," I said.

"That was the plan but at some point I realized I would rather travel the world with only a few bucks in my pocket and beside the girl I love," he said, looking down at me.

I spoke no words, not that any would suffice. Heat blossomed to my cheeks and I stared down at my shoes until it was gone.

"You were going to give up the company for me," I whispered.

"I knew you hated the mansion Eliza and the nice cars and chauffeurs and the maids and the galas and the-"

"I get it," I stopped him.

Marco sighed and lifted my chin up so I would be forced to look at him. "I didn't like it either El. You made realize that not everyone has what I have and it's not fair. People are starving on the streets, selling their children, themselves, just so they can live another day when I had eighty million dollars in the bank when I was eighteen." He lowered his hand from my chin down to my hands until he could grab it again. "I wanted to be normal with you. I wanted to feel rich off your smiles and the moments we shared together, not how much money I had. But then my parents got scared and trapped me into giving me the share of the company. But you know the saying, when life gives you lemons you paint that shit gold?"

I giggled, lifting my free hand to my lips. "That's not the saying Marco and you know it. That's your mothers saying."

"Well I listened to it," he said seriously. "I couldn't give up the company and when I figured out that I could use it to make a difference in the world and make up for the greedy bastards that we grew up around I did it."

"What do you mean?"

A smile spreads across Marco's lips. "I wasn't in San Diego for the beaches El. I was there to look out for properties I can buy for setting up a homeless shelter as well as a orphanage."

I gasped, feeling the tears run from my eyes unannounced. "W-why are you doing that," I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Because I want every kid out there to have a place they can call home just like you did."

"Thank you," I whispered quietly, not knowing whether or not I should throw my arms around his neck or bow down to his feet.

"Well don't say that now El cause it's a lot harder than I thought it would be," he said, running a hand through his perfectly groomed hair.

"Why is that?"

"Because there are a lot more greedy people out there than I thought. I don't want to build a place that could get torn down in a storm or get robbed easily. I need it to be safe and secure for the children plus I need to set up a system where the older kids can get a job and be prepared for the real world. Most kids who get out of orphanages or foster care just end up back on the streets because they don't have any jobs or money."

"You mean you don't have the money," I asked. How could someone as rich as Marco not have enough money to set up orphanages or homeless shelters? But also knowing Marco I know what he has in mind. A giant building that could fit hundreds of children, professional chefs that could keep the children healthy as well as a school they could all go to. And of course comfortable beds, enough clothes, toys for holidays and birthdays, just things to make the children feel special and loved.

Like I said, the Stavros's always go beyond the call of duty or not at all.

Go hard or go home they say.

"Not right now I don't and the money the teams and the stadiums make just go right back into them," he sighed, obviously feeling frustrated about it all.

"What about Xander? He has enough money doesn't he?"

Marco's hands on my waist tightened and his frown changed into a scowl. "I won't ask him for anything let alone speak to him ever again."

"But he's your brother," I said quietly, afraid for, not of, the angry man in front of me.

"No he's not," he declares.