Epilogue

Three years later

‘Y OU HAVE YOUR two babies, Kyrios Zanelis. Now what?' Odessa teased him from her private hospital bed.

Yellow roses, her favourite flowers, covered every spare surface in the room and on her bedside, a large picture of them with Paris, their almost three-year-old son, continually drew his eye, even though the flesh and blood versions were right there in the room with him.

Ares stared at his wife, glowing and exhausted from bringing their second child into the world only four hours ago.

How she still managed to be the most beautiful woman in the world was beyond him. Perhaps one day, decades from now, he would stop wondering how he'd got so lucky.

For now...he stared down at his new daughter, the pull and twinge in his chest building until he couldn't quite catch his breath.

‘Two more, at the very least,' he answered. Then, based on pure greed, he added, ‘Or three if we can manage it. Please.'

She laughed, flinging back the hair he'd lovingly brushed ten minutes ago, making his heart flip over several risky times. ‘You drive a hard bargain, agapo .'

Her husky endearment, one of many he'd been privileged to receive from her in the last three years, made his heart somersault a few more times. He never tired of the feelings. And dear God, he hoped he never did.

‘It's hard not to when you show me every day what it's like to be surrounded by so much love. So much happiness. You know I'm a greedy man, agapita . This sleeping beauty in my arms and the little rascal making his grandfather laugh hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, makes me want as many such treasures as you can gift me.'

‘She's beautiful, isn't she? They both are,' she said with a happy sigh, her gaze lingering on him in a way that made his whole being light up with impossible joy.

Emotion clogged his throat as he looked down at his daughter, the child they'd already decided to name after his late sister, Sofia.

‘They have your beautiful eyes,' he murmured, the wonder of it overwhelming him anew. ‘I prayed they would, and now I'm two for two.' Ne , there was a hint of smugness in his tone, but he could live with it.

‘You prayed?' There was teasing. But there was also devotion. Promises given and offered back.

He looked up, met those silver eyes that had stolen his heart the first moment, even though he'd fought it far too long. ‘Oh, yes. From the moment I saw you, I wanted babies with you. Babies with eyes exactly like yours.'

‘Ares,' she breathed his name and like a magnet compelling him to her side, he approached her bed.

With his free hand, he meshed his fingers with hers, drew them to his lips and dropped kisses on them. ‘I love you. Efkharisto. '

‘Efkharisto,' his father echoed, looking up from kissing his grandson's chubby cheeks with a tell-tale sheen in his eyes.

Ares shook his head and glanced over at his father. ‘No, Baba. It is I who should thank you, for making me see that my future was with Odessa and making me take you back to Alghero.'

Sergios nodded. ‘We all won in the end, yios .'

‘Yes, we did,' his beautiful, sleepy wife murmured from within his arms, her fingers finding and lovingly cradling his cheek as she smiled up at him. ‘Love brought us home.'