Chapter Eighty Nine

Chapter Eighty Nine
Eros
The reaction was nothing short of explosive.

I barely had time to open my email before my phone rang. First, the head of PR at Belmonte Group. Then my security team. Then a journalist pretending to be from Vogue.

But none of that compared to the message from Scarlett Granville. That was when I realized just how deep we’d waded into dangerous waters.

She called at midnight. Her voice was low, poisonous.

“You really traded me in for her?”

“There was never a ‘you and me,’ Scarlett,” I said coolly, bored drawl intact. “You just liked being seen with me.”

Her laugh was sharp and hollow. “You’ll regret humiliating me, Eros. I swear it. I’ll destroy you—or die trying.”

The call ended before I could even muster a response. I stared at the screen in disbelief, then let out a weary sigh, rubbing a hand over my jaw.
Scarlett Granville.

Recently divorced from Charlie Lafferty, she’d spent the better part of a year circling me like a vulture. She liked power. And she liked the proximity to it. We’d flirted once, years ago. I let it go too far, maybe. But I never promised her anything real.

She was rage in designer silk, furious because she thought she’d finally managed to make me want her.

And now I had to worry about her. Not for my sake—but for Athena’s.

If Scarlett had been capable of what she did to Athena when they were just teenagers, what could she do now, a woman scorned in her thirties?

That night, Athena found me in my office, still staring at the call log like it might give me answers. She wore one of my shirts, her pajama shorts barely peeking out from beneath the hem, her hair loose and soft around her shoulders.

She looked like peace.

And for the first time in years, I realized how unfamiliar that feeling was.

“Who was that?” she asked gently, curling into the sofa.

“There’s more attention than I expected,” I said, cautious. “Scarlett saw the photo.”

Athena’s eyes darkened. “Scarlett Granville? The woman who’s been throwing herself at you for years?”

“The very same.” I nodded.

“Wait—didn’t she divorce her husband two years ago?”

“Yeah. And the minute it was finalized, she came looking for me in Europe.” I rolled my eyes. “No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake her. Wouldn’t take a hint.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell Athena about the time I flirted back. Just once. Just for the hell of it. Out of boredom or maybe recklessness. But it had left me unsettled for days. I avoided Scarlett after that, but she never gave up.

“She’s unhinged,” Athena muttered.

“She’s dangerous,” I corrected. “And now she wants revenge.”

Athena leaned back, folding her arms. “I won’t let her—or Lysander—dictate our lives. If what we have is real—and I believe it is—then we fight for it.”

God, I loved her strength.

“I’ve arranged for extra security,” I said. “The house is under surveillance now. You’ll have full access to the codes and panic buttons.”

“Eros.” She stood, walked over, and perched on the arm of my chair. “I’m not just something for you to protect.”

I pulled her close, hands resting at her waist. “I know. But protecting you… loving you… those aren’t burdens. They’re choices I’ll keep making.”

She smiled softly and pressed her forehead to mine. “Then let’s weather the storm together. I’m not going anywhere.”

That was it. That certainty. The quiet storm of her loyalty.

Scarlett could rage. Lysander could scheme.

But Athena—Athena was here. She was exactly where she belonged—with me. Where she was always meant to be, for the rest of our lives.

Lysander could choke on his anger, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine and rot in it for all I cared. Let him scream, threaten, spiral—none of it mattered.

Because Athena was never his to begin with.

Maybe I stepped aside once. Maybe I convinced myself I had no right to her, that she deserved something simpler, safer. I even tried to pretend I didn’t care. But deep down, I always knew.

I was only ever borrowing time.

Now I’m done pretending.

Not because I see her as mine—she’s not something to own. God forbid I ever mirror the twisted possessiveness of that bastard.

But the truth is, I was always meant to love her.

And I did. Even when I tried not to. Even when I told myself to walk away.

Fate doesn’t ask for permission.

And mine?

Was always her.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid.

Before I could think, I turned the swivel chair, pulling her fully into my lap. It had been a month since she moved in. We’d only kissed once, but tonight I wanted more.

I couldn’t resist her any longer.

One hand slid around the nape of her neck as I pulled her down, crushing my mouth to hers.

She didn’t hesitate. She met me halfway, lips parting like she’d been waiting too—just unsure how to ask.

My tongue stroked deep into her mouth, and she gripped my neck with one hand, my shoulder with the other.

I wanted Athena. Simple as that. I had for as long as I could remember. I always had.

And God, I hoped she wanted me just as much.

Athena
I clung to his shirt with both hands, holding him close as he claimed my mouth with hungry kisses. His lips grazed my jaw, trailed down my neck, lingering on the sensitive skin just beneath my ear—every touch unraveling me, winding me into a frenzy I couldn’t control.

He pulled back, breathing hard against my lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, as though tasting the moment.

“Athena, I…” he began, voice raw, then faltered, swallowing thickly.

“I wanted to wait… until the divorce was finalized,” I whispered. “But I don’t know if I can anymore.”

His hands cradled my face with such care it made my heart ache. “Then we won’t rush,” he said softly. “Only if you’re ready. I’ll wait a lifetime for you, Athena.”

I met his stormy gray eyes, and what I saw there rooted me to the spot. It was love—deep, unyielding, and unforgotten. A love that had survived time, pain, distance.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a breath.

“Because I love you, Athena,” he said, unwavering. “Madly. Irrevocably. I tried to hate you back then. God knows I tried. But not a single day passed without you crossing my mind. I forced myself not to check on you, and maybe I succeeded for a while. But when I heard you’d married Lysander… it shattered me.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of old wounds pressing against new beginnings. “After I left Beatrix, I had nowhere to go. Lysander offered me a place to stay. His parents were kind… I didn’t start dating him until after university. That night, Eros—I really thought it was the end of us.”

He shook his head. “You’re not to blame for any of it. I was angry at the world and I took it out on you. It was easier that way. You were hurting too, and I didn’t see it. I’m so sorry, Athena.”

I reached up and touched his jaw, my thumb brushing along the stubble there. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “That’s all behind us now. What matters is that we found our way back.”

His voice was firm when he said, “It’s always been you. No one else ever came close.”

My heart swelled. “I love you too, Eros,” I murmured, before leaning in and kissing him again—this time slow, sure, and full of everything we never said back then.

Everything we were ready to say now.