Chapter Eight #2
He nodded, curious to see her reaction. ‘Young people ought to be able to thrive in the industry. Kids from disadvantaged backgrounds deserve good training and experience to develop their talent. They should know their rights and have the support to rise through the ranks as well as anyone.’
It was a main goal of the Melina Foundation. After that health scare he wanted a legacy he could feel good about and this was a way of bringing his mother’s name into the light. The smallest of reparations he could make to her.
‘I had no idea you did this.’ Her gaze warmed.
Of course she hadn’t. And he shouldn’t have started this conversation in such an intimate room. ‘Come on, let’s go get that drink and find out where they’re going to take us on the way to Athens.’
‘You’ve not instructed them on the route?’
‘I’m testing their creativity.’ He chuckled. ‘As I said, it’s a training trip.’
Bethan clearly took the fact they were trainees to heart.
She offered nothing but enthusiastic support to the two stewards on deck—effusive in her appreciation of the welcome cocktail they’d prepared.
Then she paced to the bow of the boat, her eyes sparkling as she explored it alone.
He watched her lean over the railing to stare into the water.
The breeze restored colour to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eye.
She looked like a curvaceous mermaid. Water—swimming, diving, sailing—had always been her happy place. And this had been a good idea.
* * *
Bethan inhaled the salty air, suppressing her heartache about leaving the villa.
No doubt Ares would have the rest of her things packed up and shipped over, but, like the last time she’d left for Athens, she’d not realised she wouldn’t return there.
Impossibly, this time it felt more devastating because she knew for certain she wouldn’t ever go back.
They were almost over. Since that searing—utterly ruinous—time together yesterday, he’d not attempted to touch her.
She vaguely remembered him carrying her to bed last night, but he’d not gotten in with her.
She’d had to swim first thing to ease the yearning aches in her body and cool her simmering heat.
To hide the bruise deepening on her heart.
Here and now he looked stunning—his smile ready and easy—reminding her so much of those first few days together they’d had years ago.
So she stared at the horizon, drawing on the beauty of the water and the balm of the wind.
They made good progress and she watched the crew set anchor in a sheltered bay for the night.
Tried to maintain her smile for the terribly serious stewards as they presented a five-course silver-service dinner.
But being surrounded by effervescent yet nervous young people was perfect.
They were ideal chaperones, protecting her from making more mistakes.
She was debating whether it was safer to stay late on deck or risk her cabin and that dangerous closeness to Ares when one young steward appeared.
‘We’ve a surprise for you up on the top deck,’ she said.
‘Oh, how lovely.’ Bethan avoided meeting the amusement in Ares’s eyes. ‘We’ll come up shortly.’
She was slightly nervous about what the surprise could be. Dancers? Musicians?
But when she followed the steward to the deck her heart—and resistance—was torn. They’d set up a cosy nook on the deck with candles, cushions, soft blankets.
‘We thought you’d like to star bathe.’ The steward beamed.
Star bathe? Bethan nodded—of course, with a barely there waning moon, the sky was awash with millions of stars. They even had a telescope set up.
‘There’s hot cocoa, a chocolate fondue and you can toast marshmallows,’ the steward added.
‘This is beautiful, thank you,’ Bethan said softly.
It was also unbearably romantic.
‘Thanks, team,’ Ares added. ‘Once you’ve cleaned up below you can turn in for the night.’
Bethan couldn’t resist sinking into the soft cushions, tilting her head back to appreciate the infinite beauty of the night sky.
‘You don’t want them to fetch your knitting?’ he teased.
She didn’t have the focus to knit. She would drop stitches and ruin the pattern.
‘I don’t want to turn on any lights and ruin the starscape.
’ She would keep conversation on the crew.
It was safe. ‘I felt nervous for them but they’ve done such a great job.
If I’d had to serve you at their age, I’d have been so terrified I’d have probably spilled soup in your lap. ’
‘Am I an ogre?’ he asked dryly. ‘Or is it just the billionaire status?’
‘Neither of those things.’ She chuckled sadly. ‘You’re not scary, they just want to please you. They want your approval—not for the billions, you just have a potency about you.’
‘I’m not anyone special, Bethan.’
‘Ares—’
He moved jerkily. ‘I’m not. I already told you I was the son of no man and worth nothing.’ His eyes were barely visible in the low lamplight but still she saw the shadows.
‘You forget the Vasiliadis family are very good at keeping their shame hidden,’ he said.
‘You could never be anyone’s shame,’ she murmured.
‘Oh, but I am, Bethan.’ Bitterness bled through every word.
She turned her gaze to the sky above and whispered the question he’d probably never answer. ‘How?’
Sure enough there was silence. She guessed he was likely counting. And she regretted asking—he didn’t want any intimacy other than the physical with her. And it seemed he didn’t even want that now. She stared up at the stars—so beautiful, but cold.
‘My mother was a water witch,’ he said softly. ‘She grew up on a northern island. Was a strong swimmer, loved sailing. She wanted a career on the water—could have been a captain had she been given fair training, fair treatment.’
Bethan bit her lip, stopping herself interrupting, sensing his mother hadn’t gotten any of those things.
‘She worked locally for a while, then went to Athens, wanting to break into the bigger boat scene. Better tips. Better travel opportunities. She was adventurous. She got a job as a steward, serving the arrogant wealthy jerks you’re not so fond of, and one took what he wanted from her.’
‘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.