Page 87 of Mafia Obsession

“No. You’re staying right here.” He collects a few things and dumps them into a duffel bag.

“You can’t keep me a prisoner!” I march to the wardrobe and open the drawers.

“How many ways do you want me to show you that I can?”

I shudder, and when I go silent, Ares finally notices me.

Exhaling, he ambles toward me. Pressing a kiss on my forehead, he says, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to explaining my comings and goings to anyone, especially a woman. Yes, it’s about David. That’s why you have to stay here.”

A few days in this paradise were enough to dull what happened in the apartment. What those two men tried to do to me. I have to trust Ares.

“When will you be back?” I ask.

He steps back, eyes cold. “I don’t know.”

Chapter 32

Lourdes

Acrack of thunder and a flash of white light yank me awake as though the long-awaited storm grew claws and reached through the open terrace doors to shake me in this bed. For a moment, I forget where I am. The unfamiliar ceiling, the soft sheets, the fluffy pillow. The scent of salt and jasmine with the whipping winds remind me I’m in Santorini.

I’mstillin Santorini.

And I’m still alone.

Ares has been gone for days. I stopped counting because counting means admitting that his absence is something I need to measure in order to get through this. I’m stronger than that. But it’s wearing me down. Like this storm is wearing down the rocky hillside.

I’m not totally alone. Elani and a few guards are still here. I feel safe. I miss Ares, but I refuse to acknowledge that the dead silence at night has grown teeth and every hour takes another bite of my flesh.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to feel anything for Ares. God, was I so starved before him?

I sit up in bed, throat tight, tears threatening to fall. But I can’t cry.Won’tcry.

I thought being alone would make me feel more like myself. Back when I was the boss of me, before David married me out of obligation, and before Ares took temporary possession of me. Before my entire plan to get enough money to take care of Sandrine and quietly sneak away got upended by a six-foot Greek God!

Lightning fractures the darkness again, interrupting my thoughts. It’s bright enough this time to turn the room silver. The storm performs its light show in the sky. Greek mythology claims that when it storms, it means the gods are fighting somewhere higher than the clouds.

The thunder that follows is a rolling, violent rupture that makes glass shudder in its frames. Drapes from the open terracedoors billow and dance in the wind.

From the bed, I can see that the floor is wet.

“Damn it.” I push back the sheets to grab some towels.

The cool marble is a small comfort to my bare feet. Another blast of rain lashes past the terrace doors. I go to close those, but I look out over the island first. The view I’ve been staring at every night is unrecognizable. Not much of a paradise right now. More like a carwash tunnel. I’ve never seen rain like this.

There’s no activity outside. The guards have hunkered down. Their booth is dark and locked up.

The floor dried, and the terrace doors closed, I pace the length of the bedroom while another crack of thunder splits the sky. It feels closer this time. It’s cracked me as well. I hate how much I wish Ares was here. I’ve resisted calling him. Or texting him. His silence has spoken volumes. He can live without me. He’s lived without anyone for forty-two years. Who the hell am I to change that?

Damn it, I will not be ignored while captive on his estate.

Before I can even conjure what I’ll say, I reach for my phone on the nightstand. Not bothering to calculate the time difference between here and New York, I place the call.

The line begins to ring with a soft electronic pulse echoing in my ear. It combines with the sound of my ragged breaths, the violent song of the storm, and…the sound of a phone.

Insidethe bedroom.

From the dark corner near the closet.