Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Carrying her to the chair, I sit down and settle her onto my lap.
She wraps her arms around my neck, clinging to me as her entire body trembles. I rub her back, and she draws in a shaky breath as we fall into a familiar dynamic.
“That’s it, dea,” I reassure her with the voice she first learned to trust. “You’re safe here.”
Deep down, I feel like that’s what this has to be about.
When I was clouded by my anger, it was easy to forget the evidence I’ve seen with my own eyes. She’s lived her life in fear, always looking over her shoulder, expecting the worst.
It makes no sense that Ares would use her as his willing pawn. She’s not a criminal mastermind. She’s a woman who’s taken extreme measures to protect herself, and every inch of progress I made with her was hard won.
It doesn’t fit any reasonable agenda that Ares might have. But I still have to ask.
“What is this for you?”
Slowly, she untangles her arms from around my neck and leans back to meet my gaze—her eyes so full of agony, it feels like another gut punch.
“Cristian, I’m in love with you.” A fresh wave of tears streaks down her face. “If you can believe nothing else, please believe that.”
I close my eyes and let out a rough breath. “Then why couldn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Because I’m Greek.” The words scrape from her raw throat. “You told me yourself that you don’t associate with us. You said you don’t keep company with snakes.”
When I look at her, it’s impossible to miss the anguish she’s carried since I uttered those words.
As I recall that night, I can’t forget how angry I was when I saw her talking to Ares.
It was a remark made in the heat of the moment when I thought he was encroaching on what already belonged to me. But it wasn’t anything I hadn’t said a thousand times before. Even in times of peace, our families have never passed up an opportunity to despise each other.
Our feud goes back to our grandfathers, who were once allies before they turned bitter rivals. That tension culminated in a bloody war that lasted five years before both patriarchs conceded to a treaty. And while the killing may have stopped, it didn’t change the way we felt about each other.
Everything has always been a competition between us, but there isn’t a line Ares hasn’t crossed. He broke Mariella’s heart for sport and withheld information that could have saved Angelo and Abella years of separation.
He’s arrogant, self-serving, and unnecessarily cruel, meddling in people’s lives like it’s a form of entertainment. So when I said those words, I meant them. And when I registered the hurt on Chantel’s face, it only made me more defensive of my position.
The thought that she might have any sort of affection toward Ares felt like a betrayal. But I never could have imagined that she might be related to him.
Now, I recognize that, in her mind, everything I said about the Stavros family applied to her too.
I’ve never felt like more of an asshole.
“Chantel—”
“Wait,” she pleads, a note of panic threading through her voice. “I want you to hear me out before you say anything else. I’ll tell you everything.”
Fear lingers in the depths of her eyes, and I’m certain it’s because she’s afraid we can’t come back from this.
I want to reassure her that everything will work out, but the truth is, it isn’t entirely up to me. Her being Greek presents far more complications than I ever anticipated. Without an agreement in place, marrying her out from under them would be a declaration of war.
Ares watched from the sidelines as I walked right into this trap. And while Chantel might believe that she’s free from her old life, I don’t think she realizes the power he holds over her. He wouldn’t have enjoyed this development so much if he didn’t already have a plan.
In addition to the inevitable groveling he’ll take far too much pleasure in, he wants something in return.
The odds are pretty good that it revolves around Mariella, but I won’t know until I talk to him.
So for now, I lift Chantel into my arms and carry her down the hall.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“The library.”
She releases a breath and nods against me.
I’m certain this will be one of the most difficult conversations she’s ever had. I doubt she’s ever really opened up to anyone about her past, at least not fully. I want her to have something else to focus on besides me.
She doesn’t need to worry about what I’m thinking while she’s laying herself bare.
Once we’re inside, I settle her onto the cushion and drape a blanket over her before I strip off my shoes, pants, and shirt.