Page 158 of Mafia Obsession

When I shift beneath the covers to stretch, he stirs immediately. Arms already around my waist tighten, and when I look up at him, his gray-violet eyes gently open from a deep sleep.

“You have a few more hours, my love,” he murmurs, not a hint of resentment that he’s not in New York. “Rest. This will be a long day for you.”

For a moment, I simply study him. The softened lines bracketing his mouth and the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw belong to the real man he let me see. Someone no one else gets.

He’s mine.

“Thank you for staying all this time,” I say softly. “I’m not sure I’ve told you that.

After that first day when we made lovehere, Ares left his guards at the fancy hotel and has been sleeping under this roof with me. This snug one bedroom. Every night.

He watches me for a beat, and then his expression eases into something warm and unguarded.

“You never have to thank me for giving you what you need,” he replies gently. “I stayed because you weren’t ready to leave your sister. And I wasn’t leaving here without you.” He kisses me.

Something inside my chest bursts with warmth and excitement.

We make gentle love like most mornings, then we shower and make love again.

We’re leaving today. My husbandisneeded in New York, and agreeing to stay his wife means my place is with him. Sandrine is stable. Our cousin is here.

“Elodie said we can leave our clothes,” I say, picking through what I want to bring home to New York.

“That’s until I buy us a house,” he says.

The first spark of tension in months flashes through me. “What do you mean?”

He smiles and pulls me close. Answering calmly, he says, “This is where you want Sandrine to be. You like it here. I like it here. It makes sense to have your own place here.”

“Ares…”

“Know this, my love. I will not take decisions away from you, but you are my wife and the mother of my child. That means I take care of you. In every way, especially financially. There will be no negotiation on that.”

His gentle words settle over me slowly. He rests his hands lightly against my waist, cradling the life growing between us.

I relax in his arms. “Thank you. I’d love it if we had a house here.”

But I don’t immediately tell Elodie that when we see her later that morning on our way out to spend one last day with Sandrine.

“Hey, El.” I walk toward her, watering potted succulents on her back patio. “We’re heading to Marlowe. And then to the airport.”

Elodie puts down her watering can and faces us. “Sandrine will be fine. I’ll be there almost every day.”

“In a couple of weeks they’re starting the memory restoration therapy,” I say slowly. “The stage where they tell her she’s not Jessica Parker.”

We all collectively brace, knowing that will be a turning point for Sandrine.

“I’ll be here for that,” I add, nodding.

Ares grips my hand. “We’ll both be here.”

Elodie leans in and hugs me. “He’s a keeper,” she whispers.

I smile in agreement. “I’ll call you tomorrow to see how she’s doing.”

“It was nice meeting you, Ares.” Elodie hugs my husband.

“I thank you for letting Lourdes stay with you.”