Page 106 of Mafia Obsession

The limo door shuts behind us with a heavy, insulated thud, sealing out the wind and the noise from the lake. I realize it’s a rented limousine and consider how much this must be killing Ares to not have his Bentley. Still, this ride is unmistakably expensive, with warm leather seats and tinted windows rendering the outside street a distant blur.

He sits across from me, close enough that our knees nearly touch. Ares simply looks at me with that unreadable expression that has always made my pulse stumble.

I was so stupid to think that I could disappear, and Ares would simply let the world swallow me whole. Of course, he would find me. Something flourished between us in Santorini, neither of us could deny.

His silence and composure are in sharp contrast with the sound of David screaming if I worked too late or wandered off in a club he dragged me to.

I fold my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking.

Without breaking eye contact, Ares reaches forward and gathers my hands into his. Only then do I realize how cold mine are, how numb my fingers feel after just a few seconds in the cold. He lifts them toward his mouth and breathes warm air over my knuckles before enclosing them between his palms. He rubsthem gently and steadily.

“I missed you,” he says at last.

Does that mean he forgives me for leaving?

“I had to come,” I whisper, and the words feel foolish the instant they leave my mouth.

“Who are you visiting here?” he asks quietly, steel beneath the softness. “Who is so important that you would leave me and run to Chicago in December?”

I avoid his eyes, sitting quietly and balling my hands into fists.

“You can tell me anything,” he coaxes.

I raise my gaze to his, but I’m afraid. Sandrine’s been my secret for a very long time, and trusting someone with that secret, especially the head of the Greek Mafia, could endanger her.

“You’ll have to excuse me for not believing that. Especially since until two days ago, I was basically your prisoner.”

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. Even now, I’m here to look out for you. I understand whatever, or whoever is in this facility...” He motions out the window. “Is someone important to you. And as your future husband, what is important to you is important to me.”

When I hesitate to talk, he adds, “Tell me or don’t tell me, but I won’t ask again.”

That’s when I feel the walls crumble, the weight of the secret too heavy to keep carrying on my own.

“Her name is Sandrine,” I say, my throat tightening with the admission. “She’s my sister.”

There’s a brief stillness, a recalibration behind Ares’s eyes.

“You didn’t know I had a sister, did you?”

“Not until yesterday.” He shakes his head. “Tell me about her. You’ve indulged me in talking about Alexander.”

He’s so right. It’s time to tell him everything.

“She’s here because she fell down a full flight of stairs when she was nineteen.” My voice starts to shake, but I know if I stop, I won’t finish. So, I keep going. “She doesn’t remember anything before that night.”

The rest comes faster. Messier.

I tell him about her traumatic brain injury and my Dad putting her in a private home under a different name. About my father’s paranoia. The words tumble out over one another, carried by an unfurled dread that has been lodged inside me for years.

“It took so long to convince her that I was her sister. Then the money my father left for her care ran out, and I had to transfer her here.”

“Did you just want to visit her?” Ares asks with careful, gentle curiosity.

I shake my head, and before I can stop myself, the tears come on stronger, hot and humiliating.

“I want her to be treated somewhere better,” I say, sniffing. “I was stealing from Nathan Craig because I needed money forher. Not me. When I met David, Sandrine was still in the early stages of her recovery and couldn’t have visitors that often. We’d gotten married quickly. When he wanted to move to New York, I had no choice. I had to leave Sandrine in these people’s hands. They said intense therapy without intervention was best. So, I left her.” I choke on the ugly truth that threatens to break me open. “I left her.”

“Oh, Lourdes,” Ares says, kissing my hands. “I wish you had told me about her sooner.”