Code name: Athena [18+]

Code name: Papà

"Thank you for taking care of my wife," this hurts my pride but it's the right thing to do "thank you for helping her get our son back because apparently I'm useless," a soft chuckle left my mouth and my abdomen didn't like it but I was able to hide the pain.

"Anytime, Apollo," Ilya smiled softly. "I have my eyes on another woman anyway, she's probably as deadly as yours but she doesn't love me as your wife loves you," he glanced at Arabella "you're a lucky man."

"Exorbitantly lucky," my eyes diverted to my wife for a second; she was looking at me with proud eyes. If I didn't have two holes in my body I would be getting it tonight. Probably although doubtful because if I wasn't hurt she would've made my life a living hell and rightfully so.

"Anyway," Ilya cleared his throat "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Once the man left my wife took a seat on the comfy-looking velvet sofa with mustard cushions "We should talk about everything, princess."

"We should," she picked up the white bowl from the tray "where do we begin?"

•Arabella DiStefano•

"When I fucked up," he told looking into my eyes.

A deep sigh left my mouth as I gazed down at my food "I understood your anger but you had no right to take it out on me. I was also suffering and we should've been a team, as always, not villain and wrathful hero...because that's what I was to you, right? The villain of the story."

My husband frowned "Of course not. You've never been the villain, I—" he took a deep breath. "Yes, I was furious and I couldn't stop reliving my sister's death in my head. The thought of losing a child as my parents did, took me to a dark place, transformed me into monster."

"I was hurting too, Apollo. Napoleon was taken right in front of my eyes and your sister's blood was all over me."

"If I could I would get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness I don't deserve," he sniffled. "I'll do it now—" he tried sitting up again.

"Apollo!" I shot up from my seat and pushed him down gently "stop doing that, you'll fuck up your stitches!" My right hand was resting on his chest.

"I don't care about my stitches!" He exclaimed looking into my eyes.

"Calmati," my hands went up to cup his cheeks. "You have my forgiveness but getting back to where we were will take a lot more than heartfelt words."

(Calm down)

Apollo nodded softly "I'll do everything in my power," he was quiet for a moment then: "Where's your mother? Is she alive?"

"She is, along with my nauseating half-brother."

"And are you hosting another bloodfest?" he asked making me smile.

"I was thinking about calling it bloodchella this year," I told making him chuckle.

He groaned lightly squirming "Princess, don't make me laugh."

After that, we kissed and then I went to get the doctor who was in the kitchen. He checked on Apollo, asked him some questions about how he was feeling and also explained what he should be doing the next three months: nothing at all. My husband will be under constant doctor care for the next eleven days then we will follow his instructions thoroughly even if Apollo doesn't want to. We were very lucky; both bullets barely grazed his large intestine, half an inch up and I would be a widow.