"You were talking a lot..."
Ewan’s voice was low, teasing, his breath still brushing her lips as he pulled back just enough to et her startled gaze.
His eyes, dark and searching, held hers captive. Athena blinked up at him, her mind still reeling from the heat of the kiss that had left her dizzy.
"I’m sorry," she whispered again, barely audible, but he silenced her with another kiss—firr this ti, deeper, his hands sliding around her waist, anchoring her to him like she might disappear if he let go.
The air between them thinned. Their breaths mingled, their lips moving in unison—desperate, forgiving, aching. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that burned; it was the kind that healed. Each movent felt like a word unsaid, each sigh like a confession.
When she finally broke free, gasping softly, Athena almost wept from relief. Tears brimd in her eyes, trembling as she whispered, "I thought you’d be angry with ... about the company, everything."
Ewan’s chest rose and fell heavily. He studied her for a mont, then drew her against him, wrapping her in his arms. His voice was rough when he spoke against her hair. "If I was concerned about anything, it was that you were bearing more stress than you needed to."
Her heart thudded painfully at his calmness. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t accusing her. He was... worried for her.
It hit her then, how wrong she’d been. How little she had understood him. She had spent hours building an image of a man consud by pride, vengeance, and cold ambition. But pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, she realized how foolish that image was.
He’d never been heartless. He’d simply been hurt then.
"I don’t deserve you," she murmured against him.
"You deserve peace," he countered quietly. "And I intend to make sure you have it."
The words unraveled sothing inside her, disard her completely.
After a mont, Ewan guided her to the sofa. They sat close, their knees touching, silence stretching comfortably between them. Athena drew a breath, deciding it was ti.
"There’s sothing I need to tell you," she began, her voice steady. "About last night. About my grandparents."
Ewan tilted his head, curiosity softening his expression.
"I told them what happened. About John. About everything he confessed before he left the country."
For a mont, he said nothing. Then his lips curved. "You did?"
Athena nodded. "I thought... they deserved to know." A pause. "They forgave him, Ewan."
He leaned forward, eyes warm with gratitude. "Thank you."
She smiled faintly, but he wasn’t done. His hand ca up, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing against her skin. "Really, Athena. Thank you."
She opened her mouth to reply, but before the words could form, Ewan pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. The unexpected gesture pleased her, then made her laugh. A quiet, breathy sound that filled the room with warmth.
He grinned at her reaction. "Couldn’t resist. I have missed you so much..."
Athena chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
"Only with you."
Their laughter intertwined, light and unrestrained, breaking what remained of the tension that had hung between them. For the first ti in days, Athena felt light. Truly light. Like sothing heavy had finally been lifted from her chest.
As their laughter faded, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I also told them about Aiden’s findings," she said softly. "The report about Connor’s father and the paynt from my grandmother—"
Ewan interrupted gently. "I know."
Her brows lifted. "You do?"
He nodded, his tone casual but kind. "I found out this morning. Spider told before you ca. Gianna told him."
Athena exhaled, half in surprise, half in relief. "So... that ans you’re not angry?"
He chuckled. "You’ve used up your quota of apologies for today, Athena."
Her lips curved shyly. "Maybe I like saying sorry to you."
His gaze deepened, and for a mont, his thumb traced her jaw in slow circles. "If it keeps coming with a kiss afterward, I might start provoking you more often."
That made her laugh again, though her heart thumped harder this ti. She looked up at him, musing: This man.
The one she’d fought with, doubted, pushed away—and who still looked at her as if she was sothing worth waiting for.
She loved him. Not the way she’d once loved him years ago—with blind devotion and reckless trust—but deeply, consciously. A love that had been tested, broken, and reborn.
Her chest tightened with emotion. She wanted to tell him, but her tongue faltered. Instead, she smiled faintly and tucked herself closer into his side.
Ewan noticed, of course. His hand settled at her waist, warm and protective. "You’re quiet again," he murmured.
"Just thinking."
"Dangerous," he teased.
She smiled into his shoulder. "Not this ti."
Before either could say more, Ewan’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He sighed, picking it up. "One minute," he said softly, standing.
Athena watched him as he answered the call, his expression sharpening into that familiar, professional calm. "Yes... yes, that’s fine. It’s the sa address. Sandro’s house."
When he ended the call, Athena tilted her head. "Who was that?"
"The reporter," he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I booked an interview."
Her brows shot up. "An interview? With the dia?"
He nodded. "It’s ti I stopped letting other people tell my story."
Her throat went dry. "Ewan, I—"
But before she could start apologizing again, he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips, silencing her yet again.
"I said no more apologies," he whispered against her mouth.
Her cheeks flushed, half from the kiss, half from how easily he disard her. "Is this going to be a usual thing now?" she asked, voice soft.
His grin was slow, dangerous. "Do you want it to be?"
Athena blinked, then laughed, shaking her head. "You’re incorrigible."
"Only with you," he repeated, and she laughed harder this ti, the sound bright and full.
Monts later, the sound of a knock ca at the door. The reporter had arrived. Ewan glanced at her, silently asking if she was ready. She nodded, smoothing her hair, her heartbeat quickening.
When the door opened, Athena froze in surprise.
It was the sa reporter who had interviewed her weeks ago at the president’s residence.
The woman blinked, recognition lighting her face. "Doctor Athena? What a pleasant surprise."
Athena smiled awkwardly. "Seems we keep eting at unexpected tis."
The reporter laughed lightly before turning her attention to Ewan. "Mr. Ewan, thank you for agreeing to speak with . I understand this is... a delicate subject."
Ewan nodded politely. "It’s ti people heard the truth."
They settled into the living room, caras rolling quietly in the background. Athena sat beside Ewan, her hand discreetly brushing his—an unspoken show of support.
The questions began gently. About his career, his current work. But eventually, the topic shifted.
"The reports about your past... about your involvent with a criminal organization," the reporter said carefully. "Are they true?"
Ewan didn’t flinch. His voice was steady when he replied. "Yes. I joined the gang years ago—not because I wanted to, but because I was given no choice. After my parents were murdered, after nurous attempts on my life, I decided to seek protection for myself... hired personnels weren’t doing the work properly then. It was plain survival."
The room fell silent except for the quiet hum of the recording equipnt.
"I stayed long enough to understand what I had beco," he continued, his eyes distant. "But when I t Athena, when I married her, I knew I couldn’t keep living that life. So I left. Completely. And I’ve spent every day since then trying to build sothing better—for her, for our children, and for myself..."
The raw honesty in his tone, as he talked more on those bleak years, on things he did to sabotage so operations, made Athena’s eyes sting. She’d known the story, yes, but hearing him say it publicly, with no sha, only calm truth, made her chest swell with pride.
The reporter’s gaze softened. "That’s... incredibly brave of you, Mr. Ewan. To speak so openly."
Ewan smiled faintly, then reached for Athena’s hand, threading their fingers together. "I have firm believers in ... makes things easier."
Athena turned to look at him then, her throat tightening. The emotion in his eyes mirrored her own.
There was no going back for them now. They were being live-stread, after all.
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