Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Six months later

O DESSA ACCEPTED THAT she shouldn't have left things to fester for this long.

Because unlike her pregnancy, which had sailed along smoothly after a few weeks of morning sickness, the atmosphere between her and Ares had stagnated into tepid politeness—with the occasional bout of wild lovemaking when her need built and built and then drove her into his bedroom late at night. There they slaked their lust with a wild fervour that mocked their daytime interactions, that mocked the emotional barricades she'd fought so hard to put up. Because Ares, for all his consideration, remained immovable over their agreement. Had coolly shut her down the handful of times she'd tried to broach the subject.

Sergios had lightened the atmosphere when he'd joined them on the island. Or maybe they'd just stepped up their pretence of a happy marriage...

But she suspected Sergios wasn't fooled...his shrewd looks missed very little.

And now Odessa's increasingly anguished heart had finally cracked, and she was unwilling to let sleeping dogs lie any longer.

Starting with an hour-long confidential consultation with a lawyer who reassured her that she'd have a good case to petition for shared custody of her children, should it come to that.

Any flashes of guilt she felt at proceeding with that meeting, she pushed away. If anything, she was simply taking a leaf out of Ares's book. He'd gone to great lengths to draw up an agreement to distance her from her children. She had every right to seek her own counsel.

And, yes, she also acknowledged that she was praying it never came to that.

That hope burned in her heart as she made an appointment to see the lawyer when she returned to Athens. Since Ares had written into their agreement that his child was to be born in his country of birth, she anticipated they would be returning soon.

Now, as she lay back in preparation for the last scan before the baby came, her hand travelled over the hard bump of her growing baby, seeking comfort from her baby as she'd been doing increasingly over the last couple of months, once her figure had changed and the reality of motherhood had become irrefutable.

Ares entered the guest suite, and she braced herself for what the sight of him did to her. He ruined her in the best possible way every time she grew weak with need and sought his arms. So much so that she feared she was past the point of effectively guarding her heart any longer. Especially when his gaze raked over her, lingered on her belly and his nostrils flared with open, unfettered possessiveness.

‘Are you ready?' the female doctor asked, smiling. ‘Maybe today we might be lucky and get to discover the sex, yes?'

Ares settled himself beside her, as he'd done both times before, his piercing gaze fixed on her. ‘You still want to know?' he rasped.

‘Yes.'

He nodded.

The doctor went to work, passing the wand over her swollen belly.

The moments before their baby's heartbeat echoed in the room were heart-stopping. The second it did, and the 3D image appeared, Ares slid his fingers between hers. That was a first. The electric sensation of their palms touching, an act only usually replayed in bed, made her breath catch, made her wonder if their peculiar stalemate was fracturing. Whether this was the opportunity she needed to take.

‘I'm happy to report your baby boy looks completely healthy,' the doctor announced.

Ares inhaled sharply, his eyes growing fever-bright as they latched on to the screen, then swung to her a moment later.

She blinked, her own eyes prickling as he leaned over and brushed a kiss over her temple. ‘He's beautiful. As are you,' he murmured.

Her fingers tightened within his, her racing heart screaming everything she wanted to say and was terrified to.

The doctor's following words barely registered, but Sergios's entrance into the suite broke her momentarily out of the urgency biting at her.

‘A healthy grandchild is all I have prayed for,' he said. ‘But I am looking forward to teaching my grandson a thing or two about classic engines,' he added with his customary eye twinkle. Then his expression grew serious. ‘Along with a few life lessons about not repeating your mistakes. You know?'

His stare bored into his son's, then drifted to her. It was the most pointed he'd ever been, and that urgency dug into her harder.

Which made it all the more disconcerting when she tracked Ares down two short hours later and saw the open suitcase.

‘You're leaving?'

She hated how much her voice shook. How hollow her chest felt already. It was a testament to how she'd grown to long for his scraps of occasional affection that she'd mourn his absence.

He looked up, his fingers tightening momentarily on one of the ultrasound photos they'd been given. ‘Yes.' His lips tightened. ‘I'll be back in a few days.'

She lifted her hand to brush back her hair, and the tanzanite bracelet and marching necklace she'd crafted at a local jewellery workshop should have reminded her how much she felt at home here. Today it only reminded her of how long she'd been in this gilded paradise. That its beauty couldn't take the place of what her heart truly craved.

‘Okay, this has gone on long enough,' she told him. ‘How long do I have to stay here?'

He tossed another shirt into the case. ‘Until your safety is guaranteed.'

‘And until then, what? We're going to keep playing this hot and cold but mostly cold game?'

She almost wanted to laugh at how bewildered he looked. Then she wanted to grieve. Because this level of ignorance meant she didn't mean as much to him as her heart yearned to.

‘What are you talking about?'

Dio , she hated how steady, how utterly commanding he was, while she floundered so desperately. The only time Ares seemed to be moved by anything was when it pertained to her pregnancy. Or when her needs got the better of her and she sought his touch.

Well, she was sick of it. And also sickened that this conversation needed to happen.

‘You can barely look me in the face. When I enter a room, you leave within minutes.' Her voice choked. ‘You're showing the traits of my father, Ares. And, yes, you might find it offensive to be compared to him, but that's my only yardstick. And guess what? It's just as deplorable when you do it.'

His face lost several shades, and even his eyes snapped in affront. ‘Odessa—'

‘No. I won't live like this any more. Tell me what I've done or I'm leaving—even if I have to swim a hundred miles to get to land.'

He dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘I gave you a choice. You made it clear you would use it—use me —only sparingly. I'm guessing I have your pregnancy hormones to thank for that consideration?'

Her jaw dropped. ‘Wait... Are you accusing me of using you for s-sex? I didn't see you complaining when—' She stopped, her face flaming.

His hands raked through his hair, then he shrugged. ‘Something is better than nothing, I guess.'

Her mortification grew. ‘Ares...'

His face tightened at whatever it was he heard in her voice. ‘I don't require your pity or—'

‘That's good, because I wasn't about to offer it,' she snapped, and then the greater need to settle this once and for all drove her closer to him. She almost reached for him, but a lifetime of rejection loomed large, so she kept her hands balled at her sides. ‘Look, can we agree that sex isn't really our problem?'

He stiffened, his eyes narrowing, but she caught something on the edges of his expression. Anticipation? Hope?

‘Then what is our problem?' he asked.

She pressed her lips together, then made the plea. ‘Have faith. In me.'

In us.

The unspoken words dislodged a tightness in her chest. Her hand found its way to her belly again, reminding herself what she was fighting for.

‘That history won't repeat itself.'

His eyes blazed as they dropped to her stomach. For a blind moment she was sure he would say something. But then he turned away, his movements jerky as he finished packing.

‘I need to go to Abu Dhabi to see to the final arrangements for the tower. Vincenzo's sentencing is also this week. I need to be in Athens.'

She'd forgotten about that. After months of delay and attempts to weasel his way out of jail, Vincenzo had finally pleaded guilty, eliminating the need for Odessa's presence at his trial—an outcome she suspected Ares had made happen. But, while her heart attempted to melt, because he'd saved her that ordeal, too, she still needed to fight her corner.

‘Once he's officially behind bars we can discuss you coming back home.'

Her temper ignited at that. ‘You're talking as if I need your permission to leave. I don't remember agreeing to being carted off around the world at your whim.'

He went rigid, but the fingers clutching his case betrayed him, his knuckles turning white at her response. ‘This isn't a whim, Odessa. And you're wrong. Our agreement says differently.'

She inhaled sharply. ‘Excuse me?'

His lips twisted. ‘You need to read the small print. I have the right to take you with me wherever I go in the world. My business is global. How else would I get you pregnant if I didn't have you with me at all times?'

‘I'm already pregnant,' she said, stating the very obvious.

He shrugged. ‘Doesn't change the wording of the agreement.'

Cold invaded her chest, shrivelling her heart. ‘Why are you doing this? Surely you can't still believe that I'm an emotional threat to this child?'

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

‘Nothing! I have done nothing wrong in the first place. You're judging me by impossible standards. I'm human. I'm bound to make mistakes.'

‘Not with my children you won't,' he seethed.

‘Enough, Ares! I kissed a boy who wasn't you when I was eighteen! And I said some things I didn't mean to my father about you. Are you going to punish me for ever for those two things?'

‘No,' he growled, stepping up to her and blotting the sunlight, so all she could see and all she could feel was him. ‘But—'

He gritted his teeth.

‘But what?'

‘You made me yearn for things I couldn't have.'

Her mouth gaped open. ‘Things like what?'

His own lips parted, but he said nothing. They breathed the same roiling air for a minute, before he slashed his hand through the air.

‘It doesn't matter now.'

‘Of course it does. I'm being judged for something I didn't even know you wanted from me. At the very least I have a right to know, don't I?'

His gaze dropped to the ultrasound photo, which was at risk of being crushed between his fingers. When he locked eyes with her once more, the flash of bleakness she saw strangled her breath.

‘Fine. You made me hope . Until I saw you in another man's arms, I thought that the words and promises we'd made to one another meant something.'

‘They did.'

His eyes narrowed, his judgement scorching her where she stood. ‘Tell me, then, matia mou ... How would you have felt if our positions had been reversed and my tongue had been down another woman's throat, her hands touching parts of my body the way you wanted to touch me? Would you have brushed it off as a simple mistake?'

Her throat clogged, blocking any answer she'd hoped to give. It would've killed her. And, God, she didn't know whether she would've forgiven him. But...

‘I'd like to think I wouldn't have condemned you for the rest of your life,' she whispered, the part of her that insisted he was better than this stubbornly clinging on to hope.

That hope grew when he lifted his hand, traced a thoughtful path down her cheek, then was shattered conclusively with, ‘Ah, but then I'm Greek, agapita . The fires of retribution burn brighter and hotter within me. Now, enough of this. Whatever rows unfold between us, you remain the vessel carrying my child. I won't have your health harmed.'

That was as definitive as it could get. No matter the highs and the lows, Ares would see her first and foremost as a brood mare.

Waves of pain at his words crashed through her, leaving her unable to catch a full breath.

‘Do you even hear yourself? Who refers to the mother of their child as a "vessel"? You know what I think? You don't hate me for kissing someone else under some misguided notion of self-preservation. I think you're afraid to reach for what you truly want. You want to guard yourself against all future pain. That's fine. But do you have to be cruel to me to achieve that?'

For the first time in her life she saw Ares Zanelis totally nonplussed. His mouth gaped slightly and extreme bewilderment filled his expression.

After a handful of seconds, he shook his head. ‘I didn't mean—'

‘Yes, you did. And the sad thing is you don't even realise how hurtful you're being. Or that you don't need that stupid wall you've erected around yourself. Why don't you do us both a favour? If you can't be the kind and considerate man I know lives in there somewhere, maybe you shouldn't come back at all.'

The words seared her very soul as she uttered them and Odessa stopped breathing, the visceral fear that she'd said words he might act upon lighting a terrifying blaze in her heart that threatened to annihilate her.

His eyes widened, shock slashing through the bewilderment. And, hell, if that wasn't the saddest, funniest and most heartbreaking thing she'd seen in a while.

For the first time Ares was rendered speechless.

And somehow she found the strength to accept something else her foolish heart needed to know. It was time to guard her heart. Because months...years of this would be untenable.

She took one step back. Then another.

Her eyes narrowed as he jerked forward, as if caught by the strings of her emotions.

As she took her third step he stopped himself, features shuttering.

He remained there, a pillar of ruthless fortitude, watching as she silently begged him not to let her go, but knew he wasn't going to stop her.

Wasn't going to do anything but leave.

A week later, she summoned a smile for Sergios as they sat down to play chess, infusing enough enthusiasm into the smile for his contemplative looks to lessen, but not totally dissipate.

They hadn't discussed his son's absence, but she knew he wasn't pleased about it.

Join the club...

She wanted to blame those hormones Ares had mocked for missing his body next to hers in the dead of night. She'd tried telling herself she'd been through worse, after living under her father's ruthless commands for almost three decades, but her heart taunted her.

You knew early enough that Elio didn't love you. He made no bones about the fact that he'd have preferred a son to a daughter.

With Ares, her heart had refused to believe for a very long time. Now that hope was gone. But she needed to keep her vow front and centre in the heart that was now being pulverised by the realisation that she'd never got over Ares Zanelis. That despite the almost-decade that had passed he'd remained the ideal in her mind and her heart. She feared he always would, but she needed to put that fear aside. For her child's sake.

‘I'm old, mikros , but not so old that you should pretend to play badly enough to make me feel good about winning,' Sergios griped.

Her gaze snapped to his, guilt riding her about spacing out. At his droll look, her eyes dropped to the board. In three short moves she was about to forfeit the game.

‘Oh, I'm sorry...'

He waved her apology away, but while his customary humour lurked in his eyes his expression was surprisingly solemn. ‘Don't be sorry, mikros . Do something about it.'

She started at his direct, gritted tone. Surprised that for the first time she was catching glimpses of where his son had inherited his steel from. Sergios might couch his interactions with humour, but at his core he was implacably loyal. Fiercely determined.

‘I...I don't know what you mean.'

His mouth twisted, the motion so reminiscent of his son that her breath caught. ‘Yes, you do. Only you're wallowing when you should act.' A flash of anguish marred his weathered features. ‘If I'd acted sooner, instead of remaining stubborn back when things were unravelling in my own life, perhaps things would've turned out differently for my family.'

She reached over the table and covered his hand with hers, swallowing the lump in her throat. In the context of her own pregnancy and already loving her baby more than life itself, she couldn't fathom going through what he'd endured.

‘Sergios, I'm—'

He patted her hand. ‘You mean well, I know. But I'd much prefer you direct that sentiment somewhere more proactive.' His gaze dropped to her belly, and there was an expression of fondness and pride in his gaze when he lifted it back to her face. ‘My grandson deserves the happiest home you can provide. And, no, I don't mean the one you're contemplating, separated from my bull-headed son should he not pull his act together.'

At her visible shock, he snorted.

‘I'm not blind. You two pretend all is well for my sake. I wish you'd save all that effort for fixing things before they're irreparably broken. Or do you not want that?' he challenged, again with that blade of ruthlessness that made her understand once and for all that she'd sorely underestimated Sergios Zanelis.

‘I... Yes, I do.'

He squeezed her hand. ‘Kalos,' he grunted, then his smile reappeared. ‘Now, give me a better game. Who knows? Strategic thinking might help you devise how to bring my son to heel.'

They played three more better, challenging games. And she went to bed that night with a slightly altered plan than she'd woken with that morning.

She couldn't shake Sergios's urging. Nor the spark it had ignited. As she pulled the covers over herself the urge to win the most important game of her life burned bright.

Brighter.

Ares had accused her of making him hope—something his mother's actions had clearly eroded. What if that hope wasn't misplaced? What if she had the power to make them both happy beyond their wildest dreams?

The strong kick in her belly just then made her gasp, then smile in the dark. At least she had one person in her corner. Well, two. Ultimately, Sergios would support his son in whatever decision he made, but for now she could siphon strength from the only father figure she'd truly known.

She wouldn't just fight for her children.

She would fight for her husband too.

That spark turned into a conflagration less than a minute into the video conference calls with Ares's team after breakfast the next morning.

‘We're thrilled to have you on board the design team for Odessa Tower, Mrs Zanelis. Your designs are quite breathtaking,' the team leader gushed.

She sucked in a breath. ‘I'm sorry...what did you say?'

Nervous glances met hers. ‘Did I say something wrong?' the woman asked.

‘No,' Odessa said hurriedly. ‘I just didn't catch the name of the property, that's all.'

‘Oh...it's called the Odessa Tower. Is that not correct?'

Her fingers tingled, and then the sensation rushed through her until her whole body was engulfed. The memory of Ares's evasive look flashed through her mind. He'd named his latest project after her?

When he didn't care for her.

As a taunt, it felt too cruel to contemplate. But could it be...?

The seductive whisper suggesting that it was something else, something she'd yearned for all her life, was too big, too weighty, to dismiss.

She had people waiting for her, giving her strange looks that prodded her to get her act together fast or risk the very thing she'd questioned Ares about. The last thing she wanted was to leave the impression she had no clue what she was doing. Even if it was somewhat true.

Clearing her throat, she pinned on a smile. ‘No, you're right. And I'm glad to be on board too. Shall we get started?'

The white-knuckle determination to succeed in her first ever venture kept Odessa focused on the meeting when every cell in her body wanted to examine every facet of what she'd just learned.

Ares had named his latest project after her.

Because he wanted to perpetuate the ruse that theirs was a genuine marriage? No, she couldn't make that argument stick either. Ares had no need to prove himself beyond the bounds of making his father happy.

And yet...

Odessa sucked in a steadying breath, attempting not to be even more disarmed when they settled on three of her designs for the mega-penthouses along with two more from other designers. She struggled not to gape in wonder at the initial 3D projection of how her work would look when it was completed, in time for the official opening in four short weeks.

‘Mrs Zanelis?' the team leader prompted hesitantly, clueing Odessa in that she'd been staring, agog.

Cringing, she offered an apologetic smile. ‘Forgive me. I was just marvelling at how efficiently you've all worked to produce this.'

Her praise did the trick, drawing pleased murmurs which carried through to the end of the meeting.

The moment she signed off, her hands flew to her mouth.

After a good five minutes of trying to absorb the news, trying not to let her heart soar at the connotations of it, she brought up a search engine on her laptop, her fingers tapping out frantic requests.

With each revelation her breath shortened further.

Every Zanelis project and iconic piece of real estate held a significant meaning to her .

Sapphire Island. Her favourite gem.

Gemini Place. Her star sign.

Occhi d'Argento. Silver Eyes.

Odessa Tower.

She stopped after the tenth one, her heart shedding the last of its protective barriers. Perhaps she was wildly over-exaggerating the importance of all of this. But if she wasn't... If Ares had even a shred of feeling for her over and above her role as his long-term incubator...

Before she could change her mind she reached for her phone, her fingers aiming for the number at the top of her contact list.

‘Odessa.'

His voice was deep and resonant, rumbling through her being to settle in a place she was beginning to suspect would always be reserved for this man. The truth of that shook through her, forcing her to grip the phone tighter.

‘Is something wrong?' he demanded, his voice sharper.

She started to shake her head, before she remembered he couldn't see her. That the fact threatened to make her giggle took her by alarming surprise.

Grappling her wayward feelings under control, she responded. ‘No, there's nothing wrong. But... You named your new tower after me?'

Even from thousands of miles away she sensed his wariness.

‘Ne,' he said after an age. The silence stretched out before he added, ‘We're trying to create an image, aren't we? It made sense.'

Her heart plummeted, and then a wave of anger took over, thankfully shrouding the swell of hurt. ‘Made sense to who? Because if that's the true reason—'

‘Why wouldn't it be?' he interjected, with what sounded like a touch of defensiveness.

Which—absurdly—made her feel fractionally better.

‘Because firstly, you didn't consult me, and secondly, you're forcing me into more pretence.'

Again, silence reigned. Then he sighed. ‘If you must know, it was the first name that entered my head.' His tone had morphed into gruffness and clear reluctance. He hadn't wanted to admit it. ‘Nothing else made sense after that.'

Her grip eased, her breathing turning shallow as elation bubbled once more beneath her skin. ‘I see.'

He cleared his throat. ‘But—'

‘It changes nothing. I'm aware,' she slotted in, before he could.

But his protest was useless. He'd admitted the truth. And the vice around her heart was easing.

‘Was that all?' he rumbled. ‘I have a busy afternoon.'

The urge to put her plan into action bit at her, but Odessa didn't want to do it over the phone. This was too important.

‘No, that's all.'

For now.

Expecting him to ring off, she held her breath when he lingered.

‘You're well?' he asked.

No. I miss you more than I can express.

‘I'm well,' she said instead. ‘So is the baby. I'll see you soon.'

She hung up before he could query that. Before he could talk her out of it.

Standing, she left the study, eager to put thought to action immediately.

Sergios stood outside the door. His gaze probed, hard and direct, and again Odessa wondered how she hadn't seen this side of him before. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to see it? Examine what it might mean to her?

She answered the question in his eyes. ‘I'm leaving, Sergios. As soon as it can be arranged.'

‘And your destination is...?'

‘Abu Dhabi is wonderful at this time of year, I hear,' she said.

His smile was immediate and approving, the hands that gripped hers warm and firm. ‘Good, mikros . Very good.'