Page 20 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
‘This will be a perfect refuge this week,’ she said stiffly, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. ‘Thank you.’
Refuge.Ares gripped the edge of the workbench more tightly to lock himself in place. He wasn’t about to leave even when that was obviously what she wanted. Nor was he about to grab her and make her swallow her falsely polite-as-hellthanks. Since when was Bethan either sarcastic or cynical?
Since walking out on him.
She bent her head so all he could see was her glossy hair and all he could do was keep staring. He should bepleasedby this situation. He’d exerted the smallest amount of control, exacting the slightest hint of revenge by requiring her to remain here in the place she’d rejected, meaning she wouldn’t have her own way for just a little bit longer, and it meant that their goodbye would be on his terms at a time he wasn’t just prepared for but was relishing. He should be delighted that soon she would leave his life for ever, no? More than that, he should be triumphant because he knew she stillwantedhim.
There should be no risk here, only reward. Yet he felt coarsely uncomfortable.
Why had he left this studio stocked and ready for all this time? When he’d known she wouldn’t be back. When he’d known she wasn’t into material things or great displays of expense. Why had he shown her now? Had he thought he’d get pleasure from showing her what she’d walked out on? Because he didn’t. Instead he felt...weak. Because he’d just left it. Unable to look at it. Unable to move her clothes as well, he now remembered. What kind of pathetic fool was he?
But she’d been a fool too. She’d been jealous ofSophia. That revelation had circled round his head all night and still was a small consolation now. Sophia Dimou was his stepmother Gia’s niece—almost a cousin though not by blood. The family had suggested that Sophia would be the perfect wife to ensure Ares’s place in society was assured and polished. It was a play for control to keep their influence over him. Make him more palatable—less of afraud.
He’d known her for years—even kissed her a long time ago. It had instantly told them all they’d needed to know. Hardno. Never in a million years would he agree, no matter how much pressure—even publicly—they brought to bear. However, Sophia hadn’t the strength to stand up to her family for a long time. Ares was genuinely pleased she’d finally found happiness with someone else. But apparently her existence had caused Bethan angst. How had Bethan even known about her? The same way Bethan had thought he’d want to waste time at tedious dinner parties with boring people. Someone had told her and he even knew who.
‘Why did you pay so much attention to what Gia said?’ he asked. ‘Why would you trust the word of a woman you barely knew?’
Bethan turned from her exploration of some of the packages. ‘She’s your family,’ she said simply. Sadly. ‘I thought she was being honest with me so I could support you.’
A sinking sensation sucked him.Hewouldn’t trust but Bethan had a wildly different background. Regret curled. ‘She mentioned Sophia to you.’
She still avoided his gaze. ‘She said your engagement was well publicised and wanted to warn me in case someone said something. So I looked it up. Google translated all those stories in the society pages. Some of them were years old.’
But even those articles didn’t tell the whole truth and the whispers of his background had been wiped from the web. Gia’s ‘warning’ had in fact been an attack. He should have prepared her. Instead he’d kept so much from her. It had been habit, no? And self-protection. Keeping his past private had been a requirement and he’d never wanted to answer questions about his mother anyway. Just thinking about her had hurt too much because of the guilt he carried for his part in her demise. He’d never wanted to admit his failure to anyone, let alone to Bethan. He’d shut down that entire part of himself. But not any more—hence the foundation. He needed to make reparations there. Perhaps here too.
‘I became Ares Vasiliadis when I was thirteen years old,’ he suddenly admitted. ‘Before that, I was Ares Pappas, the unwanted and illegitimate son of Loukas Vasiliadis.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What?’
Pushing past old habits was uncomfortable but this little she deserved to know—why Gia had been so unkind. That it wasn’ther. ‘Pavlos Vasiliadis—Loukas’s father—cared about nothing more than his bloodline and when my father and half-brother died unexpectedly, I was swept in as Pavlos’s replacement grandson and heir.’
‘You...’ She stared at him. ‘You’re not joking, are you?’
‘Pavlos was completely controlling. Everyone followed his edicts. He had power, money and far-reaching influence. They changed my name, changed my school, changed my life.’
‘They wanted you to do everything they asked,’ she said slowly. ‘But you refused regarding Sophia.’
Regarding so many things, actually. Sophia was the least of it. But Bethan was locked on her and it was welcome. Her fixation on her saved him from dwelling on the deeper wounds of the half-brother he’d never gotten to know, the bitter wrath of his stepmother, the pain of his mother’s abandonment.
‘You resisted that engagement for so long but then married me super quick. Was it to shake off the pressure they were putting on you?’
He hesitated. If he’d realised anything in the past twenty-four hours, it was that they’d not communicated honestly enough. It didn’t feel right to hold back on her now. ‘There are multiple benefits to any deal.’
‘So our marriage was a “deal”.’ Emotion bloomed in her eyes.
‘One that could have worked well,’ he said tightly. ‘You were alone—’
‘So youpitiedme. You thought you were doing me a favour.’
Why was she getting angry?
‘And I was. I could give you things you never would have had otherwise,’ he growled, frustrated by her hurt accusation. ‘You expect me to separate out issues that are too tangled. Truth is I wanted you. I didn’t want her. I thought it would work. I thought it would be easy.’
Because ithadbeen easy. He’d thoughtkeepingher happy would keep being easy. Full truth—he hadn’t really thought at all. He’d been impulsive. He’d wanted to keep her in his bed. Wanted to keep sailing with her—those days on the beach all the fun he’d not had in years. Not since he’d been a carefree kid relishing the rare days when his hardworking solo mother had had the time to shed her stress and taken him to the beach and taught him how to swim and sail.
‘Why weren’t you honest with me about all this back then?’ she asked. ‘Why keep it so secret?’
‘It wasn’t a conscious thing.’ He kept everything quiet. ‘It happened fast.’ He’d just gone for it. ‘I wanted it to be on my terms. My choice.’
