Page 178 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
But he made it seem like there was some strange world where it didn’t have to be.
Luckily, she knew better. Even if she gave into this—her heart, this love she felt—she knew better than to rely on it.
“Ari.” The whisper danced along her skin, but the ache inside her was her heart. “Come to bed.”
She knew she would be wiser to refuse. To talk this out. Set clear boundaries, not silent ones. She knew so many things.
But she went with feeling and went to bed with him.
Chapter Fourteen
Zervou had not slept. He’d spent an inordinate amount of time watching Ari sleep. In his bed. In his arms. With his ring on her finger still.
She had offered him comfort. Not solutions. Not arguments. Just herself.
This had never happened to him before. It was causing something to rearrange inside of him, and he did not have a good grip on it.
He had always needed a good grip. Without it, he was flung about, victim to fate’s whims. He had vowed never to be again. Not after watching his father’s life drain out of him. Not after watching his mother lean more fully into fate, into pain, into suffering. She wanted life to be hard to match her pain. She wantedhislife to be hard to match her pain. And when he had not been able to do that—a child, with his own grief reaching out for something other than sadness—he had been turned away.
But Ari had not turned. She had stepped forward and offered soft. Offered sweet. Offered.
His ring. Her finger. Like she belonged to him. Like shecould.
He’d had no plans to get married in his life, but the institution itself was no real enemy, was it? He had no shortage of money, of advantages. It wasn’t as though he risked anything if they married, if they enjoyed it for as long as it was…this.
And marriage was no full binding contract, no matter what anyone said. They could be married for as long as it worked, then go their separate ways when it stopped. He wasn’t so miserly that he was afraid to give her a decent divorce settlement when the time came. Why should she not have half if they decided to go their separate ways? It wouldn’t hurt him any.
Yes, he supposed they could just…continue this relationship as it was after Erjon was in jail, but he liked that ring on her finger. He liked the idea of binding her to him.
If it was wrong, so be it.
It felt actionable. Sturdy. Real. Like any business deal. They could make a portion of this fake relationship real, for as long as that made sense. She could live in his house, wear his ring, be his. She could offer comfort, and she would accept his help. It would be…satisfying. Somethingbeyondhis revenge—just like she’d spoken about before.
What came after Erjon? Whatever they wanted. Because that was the world he’d built. One where he took what he wanted, enjoyed what he wanted and didn’t martyr himself to any cause or grief.
When dawn broke, he slid from the bed. He had breakfast arranged out on the terrace, because he knew she liked that. And while she might not eat the expansive spread he offered, she would eat something. She would sit there and enjoy the view and the food.
And he stood, sipping his coffee, waiting for her, determined that whatever was next would be handled easily enough. He would arrange it to suit him. He would make the world her oyster, and she would accept the pearl inside.
He heard the door open and turned to watch her step out into the faint morning light.
“Morning,” she said sleepily. She tipped her face up to the sun and took a deep breath.
He did not return her greeting, because he was struck by her. Always. And this understanding that he would never tire of exactly that. Of watching her. Of her being here. Whetherherebe his place in Corfu or anywhere else. She didn’t belong any one place. She just belonged with him.
And perhaps it caused some trepidation within, but at the end of the day, he only had to convince her of the same. She was letting him take care of her, of everything. Her father, her mother. Where she lived, what she ate, how she got to work. She accepted everything from him.
Yes, there would be nothing at all wrong with getting married and seeing where that went.
“I think we should begin to plan our wedding,” he said, with no preamble. And still, he watched her expression and reaction very carefully.
She stiffened, then purposefully relaxed, moving to sit at the table. She sent him a small smile. “You haven’t given the engagement much time to draw him out.”
“No,” he agreed.
Thatnohung between them, without explanation. Without anything.
“It would not be such a hardship to be married to me, would it, Ari?” he asked quietly. Perhaps he’d meant it to be flippant, but it hadn’t come out that way.
