"I can't force her," I admit.
"Can't?" Ares raises an eyebrow. "Or won't?"
"Same difference."
"Not really," he points out. "One means you're incapable. The other means you're choosing not to. And that choice? That's the difference between the man she called a monster and the man you want to be for her."
I stare at him, processing his words. "You Greeks and your fucking philosophical bullshit."
Ares laughs.
"Look, I appreciate the pep talk, but this isn't some fucking rom-com," I say, pacing. "The Russians are real. The threat to her is real. And her father is using her."
Ares leans back, studying me. "So protect her. Like you always do. Like you want to."
"I did that," I growl, slamming the glass down. "And look where it got me. She thinks I'm no better than the Russians who want to own her."
The difference gnaws at me. I don't want to own her like property. In fact, what she doesn't realize, is she owns me. I'm trapped.
Fuck. Maybe Ares is right. Maybe this is love, and it's ripping me apart.
"So prove her wrong," Ares says simply.
I stop pacing. "What?"
"Prove. Her. Wrong." He sets down his glass. "If you're not the monster she thinks you are, then show her. Don't tell her. Actions, Gio. Not words."
"I've been protecting her?—"
"By controlling her." Ares smirks. "There's a difference. You put cameras in her apartment. You watched her every move. You decided what was best for her without giving her a choice."
His words sting because they're true.
I sit back down, processing everything. In my life, there's power and submission. Protection and obedience. The strong and the weak.
But Raven isn't weak. She's fierce and stubborn as fuck. It's one of the things I?—
One of the things I love about her.
Fuck.
"I need to go back," I say suddenly.
"Now?" Ares looks at his watch. "It's nearly 2 AM. Sleep it off and go speak with her in the morning."
I nod. He's probably right. I’ll head to my real home tonight, not the place I’m renting above the gallery.
I thank him for everything and leave.
The drive home is fast, my head full of Ares's words, but even more filled with thoughts of her.
Once we arrive, I dismiss my driver and head inside. I toss my keys onto the counter and shrug off my jacket. My house feels empty, hollow. I've barely spent any time here since meeting Raven. I’ve basically been living in my "strategic position apartment” across the hall from her.
I walk up my grand staircase and into my bedroom. I sit on the couch, not ready for sleep, and rub my face.
My eyes drift to my iPad sitting on the table.
I shouldn't. I told myself I wouldn't. But the thought of her there, alone with her father, planning something that could get her killed—it's eating me alive.