Page 61 of Mafia Obsession

I wet my lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good, that’s a good sign.” Ares snaps his fingers. “William, we’ll take breakfast now.”

The sound of cups and plates on a tray clinks in acoordinated rhythm behind me.

“There’s something that’s been running through my head for hours,” I say, fiddling with a napkin.

“Speak,” Ares says, crossing his legs. “All we have is honesty now. It’s what will get us through this ordeal.”

Nodding in agreement, I say softly, “Why did you hire me if this was all you really wanted?”

“This?” he challenges my weak words.

“Me,” I say. “And yes, I guess I was obtuse. Some men are just relentless flirts.”

“I don’t flirt,” he says with a bite in his voice, and I feel it in his stare. “Your question is valid. When I first saw you at Winterhall, I felt something I didn’t understand. Something foreign to me. I was conflicted because you were married. But I had to keep you close.”

Whatever took hold of him when he saw me was strong enough to move all these chess pieces. But Ares doesn’t do relationships. And I have to go back to Chicago and take care of Sandrine.

I want to tell him that he’s not alone in this attraction. Never was. But I’m terrified by it. Not him. Not the man. I strangely believe that if I don’t consent while we’re together, he won’t force himself on me.

It’s all up to me. Will I give in? Will I take what I want? Even if it’s temporary? To feel alive again and have hope that I can love and be loved one day?

It hadn’t occurred to me how dead inside I’ve felt until I let myself enjoy being looked at by Ares Zervas. He’s awoken something in me.

His phone rings again, and he takes the call. And again, he converses in Greek. I glance out the window while William sets our table with a beautiful breakfast. I eat, staring out the window. The crystal-clear Mediterranean looks so calm below us. Sunlight cuts across foamy sea waves. A low stretch of land sits blurred in the distance.

It reminds me of Northerly Island, where Dad used to take Sandrine and me as kids. I’ll have to find the time to speak to her at some point. She struggles to remember, and I worry thatif too much time passes, I’ll fade in her memory like Dad. Like Mom.

Ares finishes his call and eats in silence.

After a few bites, he says, “That was my house manager in Santorini. She has clothes waiting for you.” He drills me with a stare. “I see in your eyes how you want to object. You don’t have to justify accepting help from me. As much as I hate your husband for raising a hand to you, I almost hate him as much for making you believe you couldn’t go to anyone for help.”

“I don’t want to be treated like a victim. There were…circumstances that got me there.”

I bite my lip and want to tell him the reason I stole from Nathan. But Ares doesn’t want anything serious or long-term. It’s not worth risking Sandrine’s identity.

I also don’t want to tell him about the miscarriage and the depression. In that case, he’s right. I didn’t have anyone I could ask for help. I was stripped down to the basics. I needed a roof over my head and food. And it all snowballed from there.

“I promise nothing will ever be tasteless,” Ares remarks about the clothes. “You won’t be uncomfortable. I asked for classy and conservative. That’s how I prefer my woman to look. That pink dress you wore to Winterhall made my mouth water, but you will never wear anything like that again unless it’s for me only.” He leans forward. “And it will be for only me, because I don’t fucking share.”

There’s no threat in his voice. Just a promise.

“Thank you for all of this. For making sure I have clothes.” I lay down my silverware and stand. “It means so much to me, and I swear, I’m grateful.”

“I know you are.” Ares stands, too.

We’re frozen for a moment, and I lean in to hug him.

One hand grips my waist, and the other my chin. “Watch how you touch me,” he whispers. “I’ll only let you go a few more times.”

Shuddering, I step away. “Understood.”

He lets me go. Ares knows he’s intimidating. He probably practices in the mirror.

I go back to the bedroom and take a shower. I lose track oftime putting on makeup and fixing my hair. I find an old T-shirt dress and tie a zip-up jacket around my waist.

In the main cabin, Ares sits on the sofa with a chic leather duffel at his side, wearing a suit jacket over his casual clothes. I love the look. He does the combination with style.