Athena wanted to ask Antonio when last he had spoken with the children—like, called them to know how they were doing—but she kept her silence.
She knew he hadn’t, not in a very long ti. If he had, the children would have let her know, as they ran down their activities of the day. So, why then would he say that the children weren’t on his side? When last did he visit just to see them?
Yes, he was busy, but he didn’t get to turn around and say certain things. And when he did visit, he was all about getting even with Ewan. He didn’t even talk with her friends—not really—except to ask them sothing in relation to her or Ewan.
Chelsea had made ntion of that during the introductory party. Areso too.
Yet, it was sohow their fault—her fault—not his? He was the one distancing himself, not the other way round!
Even her friends seed too civil, well, in her presence, with Ewan’s friends—and she was talking about Gianna and Zane (despite the hostile, fragile energy she sotis detected among them), and Chelsea with Sandro (even though their eyes never did et, always avoiding each other).
Still, she hadn’t heard of complaints, trusting rather that they would confide in her when the ti ca, that they could handle their differences. They ca together, without fuss, when necessary. But not her fiancé.
"You involve them too..." he was still talking, his voice edged slightly with irritation, "more than you involve . I should be your first confidante."
That doesn’t happen overnight, she wanted to say, but she kept quiet too, rely eting his eyes for a few seconds before looking away.
"You are not saying anything..."
"Oh, I thought you had more to say..." she replied smoothly, leaning back in her seat. She saw his mouth move to cuss, but heard nothing. He must be exasperated—but really, he was the one frustrating himself.
"Antonio, trusting you a hundred percent would take ti."
"But I have been your friend as long as Gianna. Or even Chelsea."
And they didn’t know all there was, weren’t involved in all there was about her.
Athena only sighed softly, rubbing her thumb over the stem of her glass.
"There are different circumstances involved, Antonio. First, that they are females..." she ant that as a joke, her lips tugging wide in a teasing smile.
But he was still frowning, so she was dampened sowhat that he didn’t get the joke.
"Sandro is a male, and I feel he is more involved in what concerns you than I am. Moreso, Ewan."
Athena licked her lower lip, suppressing another sigh. We are back to square one.
"Antonio, did you think I beca a doctor in four years, or is it five...?" she asked after so seconds had ticked by, voice calm, deliberate.
Antonio’s frown deepened. He didn’t understand the line of questioning, didn’t see how it was connected to the subject they were discussing.
"I don’t know... seeing as you are special though, I think so. What other explanation is there?"
Athena chuckled, shaking her head lightly. "But that’s not it. I was already enrolled even while being Ewan’s wife. I left the house at tis even, but because I was too obscure a person, not rated at all, no one could make the connections. I was already making waves in the science field even then. Yes, I am a genius, but surely that has limits."
She was smiling now, trying to placate him.
"My point is—no one was aware. Not even my foster parents at that ti, not even Gianna. Not even Chelsea. Not even Ewan."
She reclined in the chair, crossing her legs, watching the variety of emotions flashing across Antonio’s face—confusion, surprise, admiration, and sothing else she couldn’t place.
"I keep things to myself, Antonio. I am not a sharer. And even though you think I share a lot with my friends, I really don’t. There are things they don’t know about , and vice versa. For one, Chelsea isn’t aware I have anything to do with the CIA."
She didn’t think Antonio knew her depth in that organization—only that she had friends there, whom he believed she t while working with the late Master Shen—but she made no comnt about it.
"So you see, my darling, I give what I want to give, to whoever I want to give, depending on circumstances really. I might be in a good mood and just talk. And there will be plenty of that when we get married, unless you are bent on giving bad moods at every turn..."
She cocked her head as she said this, eyes twinkling faintly, and this ti around Antonio caught the joke—pleased the more that she was getting used to the image of them being married.
So, he chuckled, releasing the topic. "You win. And I will be patient enough, as I have been, to peel you off layer by layer."
But the look in his eyes as he looked her over was anything but the topic they were talking about.
Athena blushed, lowering her gaze quickly as she gestured for the waiter. The sudden warmth in her cheeks betrayed her, and she cleared her throat softly.
Antonio, thinking that she too couldn’t wait to unravel, felt the blood rush to his groin, sowhat clouding his senses. He gripped his thigh under the table to regain control.
"Package these all..." he heard her say, but his focus was on unpeeling the dinner gown she was wearing from her slender fra.
I can’t wait too, my love, he mused silently when Athena returned her attention to him.
"About our engagent," she began, tone light, "we can do that after my grandmother returns to the mansion. She has always wanted to be part of the planning committee."
Her laughter was ant to diffuse the sexual tension she knew was in the air, but Antonio was all the more turned on—all the more ravenous—moreso because she had finally fixed a date.
She can’t wait to have ! He thought excitedly, his hands starting to shake. He needed to hold her.
He was just about to grab her hand when she excused herself.
"I have to use the restroom. I feel funny."
And she bolted out of her seat, one hand on her stomach.
He hoped she was okay. Concern shadowed his face as he stood up and picked up her handbag, waiting.
When the waiter ca with the packaged items, he gestured that they go outside. As they moved, he texted Athena, since she had left with her phone.
"et outside, my love."
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