Page 41 of Beneath Scarred Vows

"Will you be all right for a few minutes?" Ares asks me.

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "Go."

As he walks away with the director, I take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and look around the crowded room. I spot Calli making her way toward me, a mischievous smile on her face.

"So," she says when she reaches me, "how are you enjoying this?"

I take a sip of champagne. "It's nice. Are you not going to cut the ribbon?"

Calli laughs. "God no. I don't like doing those things. Theo does, so he'll join Ares. Besides," she says and takes a sip of her wine, "who'd keep you company?"

We watch the ribbon-cutting ceremony, and Ares points to us before cutting for acknowledgment. It's a nice gesture.

The room erupts and breaks into conversations as guests start making their way into the new wing.

"They're all looking at him," Calli says, nodding toward a group of women nearby who are not-so-subtly watching Ares. "But I'm noticing that he only has eyes for you."

I follow her gaze to find Ares looking directly at me, even as he continues his conversation. When our eyes meet, something shifts in his expression—a softening around the edges.

"I should probably go back to him," I say, feeling heat rise to my cheeks under his intense gaze.

Calli grins. "Yes, you probably should."

I make my way over to Ares, seemingly drawn to him like a moth to flame as I move through the crowd. He's finally free from the director and stands with Theo, both of them commanding attention without even trying. As I approach, Ares extends his hand toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. I slip my hand into his, and he draws me to his side.

"Ready to see the collection?" he asks.

I nod, actually curious about the artifacts. "Yes, I'd like that."

But before we can turn toward the exhibit, a man appears in front of us. He's shorter than Ares, with slicked-back hair and a smile that looks forced.

"Kastaris," he says, extending his hand. "Quite the event. Your father certainly knew how to spend money."

Ares shakes his hand, but I feel his body tense beside me. "Sammy. Didn't expect to see you here."

"Couldn't miss it," Sammy says, his eyes sliding to me. "And who's this lovely creature?"

"My wife, Katerina," Ares says, short and firm.

Sammy raises an eyebrow. "Wife? That was fast. You didn't waste any time after your father's death, did you? Taking control of the family business, getting married. Hell, one might think you were eager for Vasilis to die."

The air between us turns cold. I feel Ares's muscles coil like a predator preparing to strike. His free hand curls into a fist at his side, and I know he's seconds away from doing something that will create a scene.

Without thinking, I squeeze his arm gently and step slightly forward.

"Sammy, is it?" I say, my voice sweet but my eyes hard as steel. "How fortunate that you could attend tonight. It must be refreshing to see how real power operates—quietly, with class, rather than through cheap provocations and cowardly jabs."

I feel Ares shift beside me, his surprise evident in the slight loosening of his grip.

"But then," I continue before Sammy can respond, "not everyone has the capacity to understand the difference between strength and noise. My husband certainly does. Perhaps that's why he's here hosting, and you're just attending."

Sammy's face darkens, a flush creeping up his neck. He looks from me to Ares, clearly reassessing the situation.

"You found yourself quite the mouthpiece, Kastaris," he says, his eyes traveling down my body in a deliberate, insulting assessment.

Ares moves so fast I barely register it. He doesn't touch him, but he steps forward, towering over the smaller man, his voice dropping to a deadly quiet that makes the hair on my arms stand up.

"Look at my wife that way again," he says, each word like ice. "And I'll make sure you lose the ability to see anything at all."