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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...
