‘Loukas Vasiliadis,’ Bethan muttered after a long silence.
 
 ‘She was young and he was in a position of power and their affair wasn’t an equal relationship on any level,’ he said. ‘She’d known he was married but believed him when he said it was over. When she told him she was pregnant he didn’t want her to have the baby. Turned out his wife was also pregnant. He cut her off. She didn’t want to return home and bring that shame on her parents. She went from the boats to bottom-rung cleaning jobs—scraping together as much money as she could to get through. Alex and I were born three months apart. Him into that palatial compound, me into a one-room flat. My mother kept working but it was a hand-to-mouth existence and Loukas Vasiliadis never helped.’
 
 Bethan waited for several beats but couldn’t resist asking—hoping he’d answer again. ‘But then he died?’
 
 ‘I was thirteen,’ Ares said quietly. ‘They were in a small plane. Loukas was teaching Alex to fly but it decompressed and they died from hypoxia long before it crashed. My grandfather Pavlos knew I existed, wanted his bloodline to continue and, as I was the only option, the rest of the family were forced to accept me.’
 
 Her heart pounded. ‘So you never actually met Alex.’
 
 ‘No.’
 
 ‘And never your father?’
 
 He shook his head.
 
 ‘So Pavlos just found you and said welcome to the family? What did your mother say?’
 
 Ares stared into the small flame. Burned his marshmallow. Set it to the side—ignoring the small burn on the tips of his fingers as he did. He’d intended to tell her about the foundation but somehow had gotten sidetracked with family history. But the two were intertwined and he couldn’t explain the first without revealing something of the second. Just not everything. Not the greatest shame of all.
 
 ‘My mother lost her future when she had me,’ he said huskily. ‘Lost her chance of building the career she wanted. On the water, like your father. She couldn’t go away for weeks at a time when there was no one else to care for me. So when Pavlos came for me, it gave her a chance to have the life she’d missed out on. The freedom to finally reach for her own goals.’
 
 A worried look flickered across her face. ‘And she wanted that then?’
 
 He paused. Some parts he had to skip.
 
 ‘Pavlos took my education very seriously. In his view I’d not even had the basics and to be worthy of the Vasiliadis name I needed to earn it. Become the complete package. I worked hard to learn, to fit in. Because for a long time my plan was to gain control, ultimately take over completely, then I was going to tear the dynasty down from the inside.’
 
 ‘You wanted revenge.’
 
 Of course. Because it was only when he’d become ‘useful’ that they’d bothered to show up. But they’d ripped him away from his home. ‘They changed everything. Made me change my name. My mother wasn’t mentioned. There was interest, of course, but the narrative was quietly spread that she wasn’t able to care for me, so people were too polite to say anything to my face. It wasn’t long before she was entirely forgotten.’
 
 Publicly he’d been enfolded into the Vasiliadis family—but hardly held close. And he couldn’t really blame them.
 
 ‘How did Gia treat you?’ Bethan asked.
 
 There’d been nothing but resentment and mistrust in the Vasiliadis compound.
 
 ‘She was soon involved with Dion. They wanted to retain as much control over the operation as possible but I didn’t let that happen.’
 
 ‘Sophia.’ Bethan’s gaze flicked to his, then away again.
 
 ‘We kissed once, when we were young. She wanted to marry me as little as I wanted to marry her.’ He half smiled, at her flicker of jealousy. ‘They planted those stories. Trying to shame me into it. As if public expectation would sway me.’
 
 The extended Vasiliadis family hadn’t wanted him but they’d had no choice because blood had mattered. They’d groomed him and up to a point he’d allowed it. But to interfere in his choice of life partner? Never.
 
 None of that had been in his mind the day he’d met Bethan. He’d gone to the island villa to be alone and free for a while. He’d bought the villa in his early twenties, needed the space to decompress. Naïve and earnest, unbearably pretty Bethan had basically barged her way onto his boat. He’d been unable to resist giving her the lift and by the time they’d made it to the island, he’d known he would have her. She’d been the sweetest, sexiest thing. Scandalous, succulent curves made for him. He couldn’t get enough—knew he would never get enough. He’d known deprivation and his need for her was a craving that would never be satisfied. So he’d asked her to marry him. Absolutemadness.
 
 ‘Maybe marriage was in the back of my mind because of their constant references. And I didn’t give you a lot of time to think about it. I just made assumptions based on what little I knew and arranged everything. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.’
 
 ‘Fools rush in.’ She patted his damned hand as if he were the one who needed soothing. ‘I did say yes, you know. I’m equally to blame.’
 
 Ah, no. She’d been a grieving and lonely romantic, swept off her feet by the speed and dreaminess of it all. She’d ached for happiness. Instead he’d hurt her.
 
 ‘But Iwasyour revenge,’ she added quietly.
 
 ‘Never,’he breathed. ‘You were never that. When Pavlos died I took over as CEO—sooner than anyone expected—but I’d worked so hard to gain more and more control and in doing that I’d realised that a lot of people depend on the companies for their survival. We have so many employees. Taking revenge on my family by destroying the company wouldn’t have been right.’
 
 ‘So you no longer want revenge?’