Chapter 57

57

The party was over; the last guest had gone home along with most of the staff. Persephone sat in a sea of blue green feathers, packing the decorations away into their proper boxes and trying not to think about Hades. She felt buzzed, exhaustion pushing her to the point where she didn’t feel tired anymore. Sparring with Hades hadn’t helped.

It wasn’t only him, though. Ever since that night, she hadn’t been sleeping. Work wore her down enough she’d been able to get a few hours of sleep sometimes; today she’d gotten two hours in as a midday nap before coming back to attend the party and she considered that a win.

Hermes strolled up, hands in pockets, a leather satchel over one shoulder. Like her, he’d changed out of his formal clothes.

“Still cleaning up?” He smiled down at her, watching her wrap the feathers in tissue paper.

“Trying to get as much packed for the movers tomorrow.” She looked up at him, trying to gauge his mood. Standing there, hair mussed and deep circles under his eyes, he looked like a hardworking spa owner, not a devilish flirt.

“You mean today. It’s almost dawn.”

She nodded.

“I’m surprised you’re not scrubbing the floor, Cinderella.” Hermes jerked his head to indicate the spot where Aphrodite had given an impromptu performance earlier. Then his eyes got a little glossy. “Your friend is really something.”

Persephone smiled at him. “Yes, she most definitely is. Don’t worry, my staff cleaned the floor. If the hosts complain, my company will pay for the damages.”

“It’ll be fine, Persephone.” Hermes squatted down near her, putting his satchel to the side.

She smirked at him. “Nice purse.”

“Thanks. It’s not a purse though, too manly.”

“Right. It’s a man purse. A murse.” She stopped and scrubbed a hand over her face as a wave of sleepiness hit her.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I got a few hours earlier today.” Persephone closed the box she was working on and started filling the next one. Hermes scooted closer to help.

“And before that? Are you getting enough rest?”

“I’m sleeping. At least a few hours a night. Usually.”

“Insomnia is a symptom of another condition. Probably mental.”

“It’s definitely mental. I’ve been getting these crazy dreams.” Persephone tried to laugh it off but the sound came out pathetic.

“You going to go see someone about it?”

“Maybe.” By which she meant no.

Hermes sighed. He lifted a peacock feather and stroked down it’s spine with a long finger before Persephone reached over and plucked it away.

“I’m still mad at you.” She pointed at him with the feather. “You colluded with the enemy.”

Hermes leveled her with his gaze. “Your husband is not your enemy. He only wanted to see you.” He grabbed at the feather and Persephone danced the frond away. “It was long overdue. You two talk things out?”

“Not really. We’re supposed to talk in a few days.” Persephone lay the feather down and folded it in tissue paper.

“Well, that’s progress, I guess.” Hermes crossed his legs and settled down on the floor facing her. “What did you two do up there, anyway?” He waggled his thick eyebrows at her.

“Stop it, or I’ll beat you with your murse,” she threatened. “We just talked. Why, were you hoping we went somewhere and he made wild, wild love to me?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Well, all the bedroom doors were locked. Which reminds me. Who owns this place?”

“This old palace?” Hermes shrugged. “Belongs to my family.”

Persephone’s mouth dropped open, looking across the acre of finely polished wood squares leading to the plush red and gold staircase. “Are you kidding me?”

“This, my lady, is the original Merche family home.” He raised his hand and swiped it as if to dismiss the vast ballroom.

“Merche? Like the company?” She mentally scrolled through the last things she’d read about the telecom company and the family that still controlled it. “As in Louis Merche? The head of the telecom company by the same name.” Her eyes widened as she realized something. “Full name Louis Hermes Merche.”

“The fourth.” Hermes cocked his head at her. “At your service.”

“Oh my gods. You’re like?—”

“One of the richest families in the world? Pretty much. At least, until the antitrust trials broke the monopoly. But now Merche Ltd. is split into so many companies, you can be sure my family has private controlling interest in all of them. No one really knows how wealthy my family is.”

“I can’t believe…” she stuttered. “You’re wealthy. I mean, really, really wealthy.”

“Not me,” Hermes corrected. “My family. I’ve been disowned. The only reason I was able to get this place for the night is through my cousin. If my father found out who this party was really for…well, the only reason he wouldn’t kill me is because, to him, I may as well already be dead.”

“What? Why?”

“My father didn’t like my choice of prom date.” Hermes lay back a little, leaning on one arm still facing her. “Papa thought I should date a nice white girl who came from a wealthy family. My mother bought a corsage for me to pin on her dress.”

“What happened?”

Hermes smiled ruefully. “My date was white, and came from a wealthy family. But he brought me a corsage, not the other way around.”

“Your date was a boy.”

“Yep. Papa didn’t like confirmation that his only son is gay. Well, bi, to be more specific.” He picked up another feather. “Not that my father uses either of those terms.”

“Hermes, I’m so sorry.”

“I came home that night and my mother was crying. But she and the servants wouldn’t let me in the door.” His head sagged a bit; his brow furrowed as he studied the feather.

Persephone waited quietly, her hands in her lap.

“I spent the night with my date, hiding out in his room. A very different prom night than I had hoped for. He let me stay for a week at his place and then couldn’t smuggle me past his parents anymore. So, I was homeless.”

Persephone sucked in a breath, feeling pain all through her. “Homeless? In high school?”

Hermes nodded, his black hair wafting over his face.

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

She stared in horror, imagining the beautiful young man alone on the streets. “I’m so sorry.”

Hermes lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not. If I hadn’t gotten out, I never would’ve gotten on my feet. Would’ve never gotten double M or Fortune off the ground. I would be someone else.”

“And your family?”

“What about them?” He blew out a breath and his silky black hair wafted away from his forehead. “You want to feel sorry for someone, feel sorry for them. They threw away something good. They missed out. And they don’t know the best thing about life.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s never wrong to love,” he whispered. He shifted, coming to his knees across from her, taking her hands. She let him; it was a rare moment when he seemed his full twenty-seven years. “Let me tell you something about your husband. I lived for two years on the kindness of strangers, and as soon as I was old enough, I started a business.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. “Your salon. Metamorphoses.”

“I rented a small place and cut hair for ten hours a day. I’d just hired my first employee when some thugs came by and shook us down. That’s when I first heard of Mr. Ubeli. I went to him for protection.”

Hermes shifted back, letting her hands go after a small squeeze. “I’ll never forget the first time I met him. I’d heard of all the things he’d done: restoring his father’s restaurants, building his own empire. He seemed so powerful for someone barely thirty.” Hermes looked out over the ballroom as if seeing the moment unfold again before his eyes.

“He’s amazing,” Persephone agreed quietly.

“Yes.” Hermes rubbed his face with his long fingers. “I wanted more than anything to be him. He gave me protection, and for some reason he asked me what I wanted to do. I told him my vision of the spa, and, after a year of working together, he came and told me he’d be a silent partner. And we’ve been in business together ever since.”

She sat silent for a moment. “Thank you for sharing.”

Hermes’s black eyes were intense. “Your husband is a good man. Hades plays by his own rules, but he’s loyal, especially to those he’s sworn to protect. When someone puts their trust in him, he’d rather die than break it. His word is his bond.”

Reaching out, he took her hand and gripped it. “Talk to him, Persephone. He deserves at least that much. And so do you.”

She nodded, swallowing hard.

“Alright.” Hermes dropped the serious expression, and his features relaxed into the playful flirtiness she was used to. “Let’s get you home. I’ll give you a ride.”

“What about the movers?” Persephone looked around at the pile of feathers still left to pack away.

“I’ll take care of things tomorrow. I think I want to keep some of these feathers—take them home. My housemate loves peacock colors. Come on.” He helped her up, and rummaged in his satchel, drawing out a small plastic baggie that held five white pills. “Here.”

“What’s this?” She eyed the baggie but didn’t take it.

“Crack,” he said and laughed at her expression. “I’m kidding. They’re sleeping pills. Completely harmless. Come on, Persephone, they’re barely over the counter,” he insisted when she still hesitated. “You need to sleep. Take one when you really, really need it.”

“Fine.” She took the bag and followed him to a small side door. He paused in the exit, smiling down at her.

“Trust me Persephone…you did a fantastic job tonight. Your business is coming together. Model placement, party planning, image consulting—Perceptions is going to be hot.”

Persephone laughed. “I need to settle into one niche.”

“That’ll come. You keep working hard and let me know what you need. I’m glad to help, like Hades helped me.” The look in his eye was fond, like an older brother’s.

She grinned in answer, but let her smile drop the moment he turned away. Her mind was still churning with the words he’d spoken earlier.

Hades plays by his own rules, but he’s loyal, especially to those he’s sworn to protect. When someone puts their trust in him, he’d rather die than break it. His word is his bond.

Her heart squeezed painfully. Hades valued trust and loyalty above everything else. So what would he do once he realized she had betrayed him?