Page 49 of Beneath Scarred Vows

Katerina gasps, but she remains silent, letting me speak.

"He was still warm when I found him." The admission burns my throat. "If I'd been there an hour earlier, maybe even minutes, I could have saved him."

I look at her, really look at her, letting her see what no one else has—the guilt that eats at me day and night.

"I couldn't protect him." My voice strains over the words. "He made me his second-in-command when I was twenty. Trained me to take over from him someday. And when it mattered most, I wasn't there."

I reach out and take her hand, needing her to understand what I'm about to say.

"But I swear to you, Katerina, I will never fail to protect what's mine again." I say, hearing the intensity of my own voice. "That's why I don't sleep. That's why I watch those cameras. That's why you have Chris. It's not because I don't trust you—it's because I refuse to fail again."

She squeezes my hand, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Is that why you're so determined to find who did it?" she asks softly.

I nod. "They didn't just kill my father. They declared war on my family. On everything he built." I pause, something else surfacing that I've never admitted aloud. "And they made sure I found him. They wanted me to see what they'd done to him."

"How do you know they meant for you to find him?" Her question is careful, analytical.

"Because they left me a message."

"What did it say?" she asks, getting closer to me.

"'The sons follow the father.'"

"Gosh, Ares, what do your brothers think of this?"

I shake my head and stand. "They know none of this. They don't think I found him, and they don't know about the note."

"What? Why?"

"Because," I say and start pacing, "Theo and Dimitri would react too hastily, more than they already are, to find out who did it. And I don't want anyone to know about the note. Only me and the man responsible know it exists, so when the time comes, I can be certain I'm killing the right person."

I stop pacing and look at her.

"Well, now you know, too."

Katerina stands up and hugs me. "I will never share what we talk about with anyone. And thank you."

I look down at her. "For what?"

"For letting me in. I couldn't be a good wife otherwise. I won't be the only one being all vulnerable and whatnot. It's a two-way street."

She grabs my hands and pulls me toward the bed.

"Come on, let's go to sleep. I think we've had enough sharing for one night."

We get into bed, and she backs into me so I'm spooning her. As we drift off to sleep, I notice two things. First, I've never held her to sleep, never felt the warmth of her body in bed. And second, I'm actually allowing myself to finally rest.

17

ARES

It's been two days since we had our moment and since I told her one of my deepest secrets: the true details of my father's murder and the note.

Since then, Katerina's actually started to open up more, smile, and seem genuinely happy. She and Calli were giggling for about an hour last night—so loudly I heard it from my office.

Oddly, it didn't annoy me. It made me laugh at times, too.