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I reach for my cell and tap the screen — 3:37 AM.

I sit up and drag my hands over my face, trying to shake off the fog. I remember what Calli told me in the garden—about how Ares doesn't sleep, how he roams the house. At the time, I'd filed that information away, thinking it was just one more thing about the man I'd been forced to marry. But now things are different.

After the kitchen incident, something shifted. The way he looked at me. The way he held me—gentle, careful. Not the cold, calculated man who married me for a mafia alliance.

And that almost-kiss.

I haven't been able to get it out of my head since it happened.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool floor. I know I've made it seem like I shouldn't care where he is or what he's doing, and honestly, before almost burning his kitchen down, that'd be true, but curiosity—or maybe something deeper—tugs at me to go and find him now.

So, what does Ares Kastaris do when the rest of the world is asleep?

I grab a thin robe from the back of a chair, wrapping it around my tank top and pajama pants. The silk feels cool against my skin as I tie the belt at my waist.

Carefully, I open the bedroom door. The hallway stretches before me, dimly lit by small lights along the baseboards.

I walk down the hallway, my steps light and careful. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going, but I think it's best to head toward the general direction of his office. As I navigate the dark corridors, a strange realization hits me—I'm searching for him. Voluntarily seeking out the man I was determined to keep at arm's length.

At the end of the main hallway, I see a thin line of light cutting through the darkness—a crack under a door. I approach slowly, listening for voices or movement. There's nothing but silence.

The door isn't completely closed. I push it open just enough to peer in, and that's when I see him.

Ares stands with his back to me, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the far wall of his office. He's still fully dressed in the clothes he wore earlier, though his jacket is gone and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms crossed over his chest.

He isn't working. There are no papers spread out on his desk, his computer is off. He's just standing there. Staring out over his estate from beyond the glass.

To his right, a bank of monitors displays security feeds—the front gate, the perimeter of the property, various hallways in the house. One screen shows what I recognize as the bedroom I just left. Another shows the garden. Several more display locations I don't recognize—warehouses, maybe? A dock?

I must have made some sound, because Ares suddenly speaks without turning around.

"I know you're there, Katerina."

My stomach drops. Caught like a child sneaking around after bedtime. I push the door open fully, stepping into the office.

"How did you know it was me?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

He turns his head slightly to the monitors. "The security feed. I watched you walk down the hall."

Of course. The man who sees everything.

"You weren't in bed," I say, stating the obvious.

He turns to face me, and I see a flicker of surprise cross his face, quickly replaced by something darker.

"Did you miss me in bed?"

The question catches me off guard, heat rising to my cheeks despite myself. "I just wondered where you were," I counter, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

I step closer, my heart rate kicking up. "You're not working." I nod toward the screens. "So what are you actually doing?"

His jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath his skin. For a moment, I think he might dismiss me, send me back to bed with a cold command.

But he doesn't.

"Sometimes I stand here and watch," he says finally, his voice oddly calm in the darkness. "Make sure everything is secure."

"For hours?" I ask, stepping even closer.