The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

Chapter Fifty-Eight
RAVEN
I drop my head to Ares’s shoulder and snuggle closer on the sofa. I’m drawing on my tablet as he
reviews documents on his laptop, yet I’m filled with such happiness tonight. It’s the simple things I
love most with him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Windsor?”
We both sit up in surprise when one of our bodyguards walks in. Our staff is usually so invisible
that it’s easy to forget they’re there at all. They never enter the house when we’re at home.
“What is it, Ben?” Ares asks.
Ben hesitates for a moment. “Hannah Du Pont is at the gate. We’ve denied her entry, but she
doesn’t seem to be in a good state of mind. I would recommend that we let her in before she causes a
scene and attracts the media.”
Ares looks at me, and I nod. If what he’s saying is true, something is really wrong. Hannah would
never risk causing a scene otherwise. She cares more about her reputation than she’s ever cared about
either of us.
“Let her in,” I say.
I grab my phone and pull up the cameras. The gates at the front of the mansion swing open, and
she drives through. It’ll only take her a few minutes to get to our house, and the closer she gets, the
more apprehension fills me. I have a bad feeling about this.
I haven’t spoken a word to her since I asked her if she wanted me in her life, and I didn’t think I
ever would again. Not truly. I anticipated seeing her at social events, but this? I didn’t expect her to
show up at our house ever again.
Hannah looks distraught as she walks in, Ben by her side. She pauses and looks around, her face
betraying her shock. “I see you renovated the place,” she says, her tone soft and matter-of-fact. The
venom I expected isn’t there, and it makes me feel uneasy. Considering the way we fell out, there’s no
way she could be standing in front of me now without an ulterior motive.
She walks up to us and sits down on the sofa next to the one we’re on, her gaze moving between
Ares and me. Trepidation runs down my spine when she clasps her hands nervously.
Normally, she can’t take her eyes off Ares. This time, she’s looking at me, with something that
looks a whole lot like remorse in her gaze.