Page 153 of Mafia Obsession

He unfolds the papers, tears them up, and tosses them into a nearby trash can.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he says, his voice breaking for the first time. “I want you. I want a second chance. I want my wife. No arrangements.”

“Ares…”

“I love you,” he says, and those three words rattle the walls I’d built to shield my emotions.

I’m staring at him, taken aback by his unexpected confession.

“I didn’t realize it because I was too busy trying to run my house to honor my brother who died for its survival. He stood as the head of my family, powerful and untouchable. Then he died alone. I thought that was strength. It isn’t. And it’s not what I want. I want to go back to build on what was growing between us before I threw it all away. Lourdes, I want you.”

“You told me you didn’t love me. How was I supposed to take that?” My voice falters.

“You did exactly what I expected you to do. You walked away with your head held high. You’re braver than I ever realized.” He takes my hands. “I know I have to tell you that I’m sorry. But I also know those words are hollow.”

“From you? Not necessarily. You are unapologetic.”

“Most of the time, that is true,” he says with a smile. “But I won’t make you guess anymore. And I won’t leave anything to chance or say we will figure it all out.”

“There wasn’t anything to figure out. I wanted to take care of my sister. You gave me that. But I could no longer do it as a wife you didn’t love.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he says, gently squeezing my hands. “I’m sure I loved you all along. I felt something the first time I saw you that I had never felt before. I stupidly dismissed it as a ruthless mafia obsession. I realize now that was love.”

“Your admission is not enough. Not right now. Not after what you did.”

“I know. I won’t overstep and overpower, but I’m not leaving.” He leans in. “I love you, Lourdes. And I will tell you every day.”

He opens his mouth to continue, but his gaze drops to my midsection, and he freezes.

“Lourdes…” His eyes focus on the gentle curve beneath my loose dress that I can no longer conceal entirely. “Are you pregnant?”

I nod and swallow, guilt rising in my throat. “I didn’t know how you’d feel. You said you didn’t want a wife. I didn’t know if you would want a child. I refused to bring a baby into a loveless marriage.”

“It’s our child,” he says softly. “Of course I want it. I already love it. Because I love you. Our marriage doesn’t have to be loveless.”

“Ares,” I mutter, the dam of tears breaking.

The pregnancy has done a number on my hormones.

A hand lies on my shoulder from behind me. It’s… Sandrine. She’s comforting me for a change.

“Lourdes,” she says gently. “Listen to him. I can tell he means it.”

Things are silent, and then Ares straightens to his full height and smiles at my sister. “Jessica, I think this place will be very good for you.”

Blinking, she says, “I think so, too. But if I’m keeping Lourdes from you?—”

“No. You’re not.” He squeezes her forearms in a warm way.

Like a protective brother-in-law.

“I’ve taken a leave of absence from Zervas & Company. Right now, I have one job. Getting my wife to forgive me and agreeing to be a real wife.”

Sandrine glances between us and smiles. “Then you two have a lot to talk about.”

Before I can answer, she heads back toward the fountain, giving us privacy.

Ares watches her go. “She's stronger than we ever realized.”