Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
A dark luxury SUV pulled up to the curb. Everything happened so quickly as the passenger front door opened and a beefy man came out.
The back passenger door was already open, and another large man dressed in a suit stepped out. I retreated, instinct in me screaming something was wrong.
And then they grabbed my arm and started pulling me forward.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I struggled, about to yell for help, when I was shoved inside. I let out a gut-wrenching scream just as the door shut.
“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.”
The venom in his voice was tangible.
“The glass is soundproof. You can scream all you want. It’ll only accomplish pissing me off more.”
The locks clicked into place, and I pressed myself against the back passenger side door to see an older man staring at me with hatred.
He was overweight, his suit stretched across his body so his potbelly stuck out. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back and thinned at the top.
He watched me as if he knew me, as if he hated me.
“Who are you and what do you want?” I reached behind me blindly and tried to pull on the door handle. He exhaled in exasperation and ran a hand over his lapels. Was he going to kidnap me? Would he do something heinous to my body?
But the car didn’t move. It just idled at the curb in front of the school, which was a slight consolation that maybe I’d actually get out of this vehicle in one piece.
Faster than I expected, he reached out and grabbed my wrist, tightening his hold so hard I cried out and started pulling back.
“You’re hurting me. Let go.” But his grip was iron.
“I don’t know what kind of hold you have over Hades to where he bites the hand that feeds him, but my message needs to be heard loud and clear.”
He leaned in and the rancid scent of his overpriced cologne filled my nose.
“I’d say maybe he actually cares about you as family. But my guess is it’s your young golden pussy he can’t deny.”
“The hell,” I whispered. “I don’t even know who you are.” The words were a hiss as I kept trying to tug my hand back, but he just gripped it harder. The pain became unbearable, like he was crushing my wrist.
“I want you to tell Hades that if he doesn’t fall in line, there will be repercussions. And those are going to be in the form of making you hurt.”
He tightened his hand so hard on my wrist I felt my eyes water.
“He hurt my boy, so I’ll hurt something that he holds precious.”
“Oh God. You’re… you’re Trevor’s father?” He bared his teeth, not in a grin, but in something wholly sadistic.
“Make sure you pass my message along.” He let go of my hand so suddenly that my body banged against the car door. The locks were disengaged, and I scrambled out. Just as I shut the door, the SUV was peeling away and speeding off.
I stood there stunned as I stared at the departing vehicle.
It was then when I looked down at my wrist, at the angry bruise forming on my flesh in the shape of his fingers. He wanted me to tell Hades. I wasn’t going to.
Because if I knew anything about Hades and my short amount of time with him, it was that things would escalate to where everyone and everything would drown in violence.
Chapter 23
Persephone
I’d been thankful Hades hadn’t been home when I got back from school, and even more grateful that he’d sent me a text saying he wouldn’t make dinner, that he’d be home late.
At the end of the night I found myself in his bathroom under the spray of water so hot it nearly burned my skin.
I didn’t know how long I stood under the water, but I heard a rhythmic thumping come closer a second before there was a knock on the bathroom door and it opened.
“Sweetheart?” Hades’ voice was deep and smooth, like the whiskey he drank.
I closed my eyes and pressed my bruised wrist to my side. I cleared my throat and said, “H-hey.”
He was silent, and a moment later I pushed the glass shower door aside and forced a smile. He stood in the doorway, his expression impossible to read.
He cocked his head to the side as he eyed me—examined me. “What’s wrong?”
I made my smile bigger, which I knew looked uncomfortable as hell and totally forced. I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Still with a stoic expression, his gaze traveled along my body—what he could see, anyway. He was silent for a long while… too long.
And then he was stepping all the way in, pulling the glass door aside all the way, and his gaze immediately—instinctively—landed on my bruised wrist.
“Who did that to you?” His voice was dangerously low, and I shivered despite the hot spray of the shower.