Page 162 of Mafia Obsession

“Ares Zervas almost figured it out,” I say. “Almost.What is the location of the God of War?”

We tried calling Lourdes directly, but she never picked up the phone.

“He and his wife are in Santorini.”

Frowning, I set down my empty glass of vodka. “Again? She’s going to make him soft.”

Like Sandrine almost made me soft. That’s all washed away. This is business now. I’m owed what is mine. All that she left me with. It’s time she faces it.

I cross the room toward the wall of built-ins, my hand already reaching for the concealed panel. It clicks open under my touch. Knives. Rope. Brass knuckles. Lots and lots of firearms.

I grab the Glock and a few knives. I need fucking answers.

Behind me, Drago checks his parabellum. “Want me to bring more men?” he asks.

“Yes,” I scoff. “Your bestbratoks. That is the strength we project. The message we send. No one fucks with us and gets away with it.”

I shut the panel, sealing everything back into place.

“The car is ready, Pakhan,” Drago says, pride in his voice.

He’s been calling me that since Papa’s stroke two months ago. I grab my jacket, sliding it on as I move past him toward the door.

He falls into step beside me.

“Let’s go talk to this lawyer,” I say, my voice calm. “And see ifheknows where the fuckmy wifeis.”

Epilogue

LOURDES- MARCH

The sea is a sheet of hammered glass this morning. Soft hints of gold spread across the water as the sun climbs into the sky. I stand at the rail of the Helena, barefoot, wrapped in one of Ares’s shirts that still smells faintly like his cologne, salt, and sex.

The air is warm already, and the horizon feels endless in a way that makes everything else seem small.

Twelve more days.

That’s how long we have until nothing or no one demands anything of Ares and me.

His hands slide around my waist from behind. He doesn’t say anything at first, just rests his chin on my shoulder.

“You’re up early,” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep.

“I couldn’t stay in bed,” I admit, leaning back into him. “Everything is so beautiful. It feels like if I close my eyes, I’ll miss something.”

He huffs a soft breath, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “You won’t miss anything. And if you do, it’s because I can’t stop fucking my wife. Then we’ll come back.”

I believe him.

That’s the strange, fragile miracle of this moment. After everything, after the way he walked away from me… I believe him.

I turn in his arms, settling myself against the solid heat of him. “How many more days until we reach Capri?”

“Three,” he says, kissing my neck.

Which means there is little to do except fuck. I am so down with that.

I smile, reaching up to press a kiss to his mouth. Everything feels like this is meant to last. Forever. Finally.