‘I want justice,’ he said.
 
 She frowned. ‘For your mother?’
 
 He nodded. ‘They wouldn’t name her. Wouldn’t let me name her. Wouldn’t acknowledge her.’
 
 They’d destroyed her. But so had Ares. He was equally to blame.
 
 ‘But when you went to the Vasiliadis compound, did she revive her career?’
 
 He couldn’t bear to think of her life after he’d left. ‘She was treated so badly. She should have had better options far earlier. I want her foundation to make that difference to those young people.’
 
 ‘If you were so busy doing all the things they insisted on, she must have missed you.’
 
 ‘Missed me?’ The long-held agony burst forth. ‘Ineverwanted to go with them. Never wanted to leave her. But I had no choice because she said she was tired of working three jobs to support me! That I was a burden and she was thrilled because she could finally be free of me!’
 
 In the stunned silence he clawed to recover his breath. His emotional control. But couldn’t.
 
 ‘I was soangry,’ he growled. ‘I wanted to prove tothemthat I could do any impossible thing they set for me and I wanted to punishherfor making me go with them. So I didn’t visit her and she didn’t contact me. It was a stand-off. Neither of us gave in.’
 
 He glanced at Bethan. Her expression was pinched, her skin pale despite the gold light from the flickering flame. And his composure cracked again. Because it was how he’d treated her, no? He’d gone silent. Cold. It was what he did. The Vasiliadis in him. The realisation twisted his insides. ‘I had all these stupid plans,’ he admitted feebly, wanting her to know he wasn’t entirely awful. ‘I was going to buy her a new home and her own damned boat. I wanted her to be so...’
 
 Proud.And sorry. He closed his eyes. He’d wanted her to want him again.
 
 Even though now as an adult he could rationalise his mother’s actions—that perhaps she’d said all that because she’d thought the move was best for him, that he would have opportunities she couldn’t give him—itstilldevastated him. Because she’d once given him what no one else had—the belief that he was actually wanted forhimself. Just Ares. Just a boy. With no money, no power. They’d had a nice life together, no? It hadn’t been entirely a burden. But she’d destroyed that belief and he’d been unable to rebuild it. Not completely.
 
 ‘She didn’t revive her career. It was too late and she didn’t have any money to get ahead. They didn’t even pay her off. And because I wouldn’t contact her, I never knew she injured her back on a job and went on painkillers to keep working. Never knew she got addicted.’ He winced at Bethan’s small sound of distress. ‘I didn’t know she’d died until three days later.’
 
 His mother had never reached out to tell him she’d been hurt. She’d tried to deal with it on her own—masking her pain and keeping working those crappy jobs. She’d not given him achanceto help her. He was so hurt by that even though it was what he’d deserved for never going back to check on her. And all his effort to become the most powerful Vasiliadis heir had been fornothing.
 
 ‘Ares, I’m so sorry.’
 
 ‘It doesn’t matter.’
 
 Bethan didn’t call him out on the pathetic lie. Nor did she ask any more questions. She just kept her hand on his, leaned her shoulder lightly against his, a calm counterpoint to the turmoil of emotions he couldn’t handle.
 
 He watched the little flame burn lower as the gas depleted, too spent to regret telling her about that horrifying day. He’d never before told anyone what his mother had done. What he’d done in childish retaliation. The consequences unable to be rectified.
 
 There was nothing to be said to make it better—it simply was—and he appreciated that Bethan didn’t try. He didn’t move—couldn’t—when she was a heavier weight now and anchoring him in place. But he still couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t shut his damned brain down. He couldn’t ever get peace.
 
 Chapter Nine
 
 Bethan blinked atthe bright blue sky, slowly realising she was ensconced in a nest of soft blankets. Alone. Scraps of conversation flayed her heart.
 
 I didn’t visit her...she didn’t contact me...
 
 He’d been so hurt. Soalone. For years.
 
 Maybe marriage was in the back of my mind... I didn’t give you a lot of time...
 
 She got to the cabin without seeing anyone. She swiftly showered and changed but despite pulling herself together physically, she could still barely cope with the internal impact of that quietly emotional conversation. Of course she appreciated his honesty and trust in telling her all he had, but it changed everything. Before it had been easy to consider him a heartless, callous villain who’d used her. Now she couldn’t—he was far more human. And yes, hurt. Now she understood more why he’d acted the way he had and she could hardly blame him for keeping his most painful, personal secrets from her when she’d done exactly the same to him.
 
 But it was also clear theywereover. He’d made no move last night and surely he knew she would have easily acquiesced. But no. They were past lovers simply clearing the air. Except desire festered deep inside her—building again to that dangerous point where there’d be another explosion. For her own well-being she had to contain it. This situation didn’t need more complication.
 
 On her way back up she heard voices from the main deck and stopped on the stairs, hoping they’d move on so they wouldn’t see her.
 
 ‘You should ask Bethan to show you.’ Ares’s voice carried. ‘She knows all the knots. I’ve never seen anyone tie off as fast. Ask if she’ll demonstrate and film her. Then practise. Lots. That’s what she does.’
 
 ‘Does she work on boats?’