Chapter 59

59

“Come in,” Hades barked after a knock at his office door.

Charon, his second in command, peeked his head in. “You called, boss?”

“Get in here.”

Charon lumbered his large body through the door and shut it behind him. He stood with his arms behind his back until Hades bit out in frustration, “For fucks sake, sit down. Don’t just stand there looming over my desk like the damned grim reaper.”

Charon didn’t say anything. He merely sat, one eyebrow raised the slightest bit. Hades wasn’t in the mood for his silent judgment. Nothing was going his way lately and he was sick of it. He ran a tight ship. But there were too many elements that were out of his control and it was threatening everything he’d ever worked for.

“We’ve got to get that shipment back. I can’t believe Zeus Sturm of all people has finally grown a set after all these years. But if he thinks getting re-elected mayor suddenly means he’s above the laws of the Underworld, he’s got another think coming.”

“We don’t know what he’s thinking,” Charon finally commented. “We can’t get a meeting with him.”

Another frustrating fact. Zeus’s security kept the man all but sequestered. It had been two months, but since he’d secured re-election, he’d only been to three public venues—a gala, a play, and a restaurant opening—none of which Hades had been able to corner him at to get alone time so he could ask where the hell his shipment was.

The police had seized the huge shipment at the docks two months ago after tailing that rat bastard Ajax there, but Zeus had promised Hades he’d return the shipment within a week. But then a week had gone by. Then two. Then three. And no word from Zeus.

No shipment got to New Olympus that didn’t come through Poseidon. He owned the seas. At first Poseidon had been understanding and hadn’t demanded payment for the lost shipment, once it became apparent it was going to stay in police custody. Things like this happened and the Ubeli’s have been long and loyal customers.

But then suddenly Poseidon had pulled a one-eighty and said he wouldn’t sell any more product to Hades until he paid for the first shipment after all.

Hades didn’t know why suddenly everybody thought they could fuck him up the ass, but it was high time he reminded them exactly why people used to be afraid to even say his name out loud.

“It’s time to put the fear of the gods into Zeus and anybody else who thinks they can take advantage of me,” Hades growled through clenched teeth. “I run this city. No one else.”

Charon didn’t say anything for a long moment. And when he did, Hades wished he hadn’t, because it only made him want to deck his longtime friend: “Did you talk to her?”

Hades glowered at him. It would have silenced any lesser man. But Charon only sat forward.

“Did you apologize? I know it’s not in your nature but women like to hear the words?—”

“Of course I apologized,” Hades cut him off irritably. “She’s not ready to hear it. But she will be. I’ll make sure of it. Anyway, I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Charon frowned. “You can’t go in and start ordering her around. You have to be delicate?—”

“I’m not taking dating advice from a man who only sleeps with prostitutes.”

Charon stood up, turned his back and headed for the door. Shit.

“Wait,” Hades called. Charon paused, hand on the doorknob. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Charon inclined his head once but didn’t turn to look back at Hades. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Hades all but shouted. And then, because Charon was the one person Hades could genuinely call a friend and so he deserved it, Hades gave him more, in a quiet, tempered tone. “I’m doing everything I can to get her back. Everything and anything. None of it means anything without her.”

Charon gave another simple nod and then exited through the door. It closed softly behind him.

Hades looked at his laptop but soon pushed back from his desk in frustration. He wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight.

He paused for a moment, though, looking towards the door, remembering the first time he’d seen Persephone up close. She’d pushed through that very door frantically and shut it again, wet and disheveled, on the run and thinking she’d found a safe place in his office.

Even then he’d been enchanted by her beauty and sweetness. She’d fallen asleep in that chair right there, across the desk from him. He’d lingered longer than he should have, watching her. His beautiful enemy. And then, instead of destroying her like he’d meant to, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. And she’d changed everything.

Life without her was unfeasible. Untenable. He wouldn’t go back. He was only getting through each day on the promise to himself that she’d soon be back in his arms. In his bed. Forever.

But standing here mooning like a lovesick teenager was beneath him. So he grabbed his jacket and called his driver to bring the car around front.

He busied himself with emails and phone calls on his way home. It wasn’t his normal way, but now riding in cars listening to music only reminded him of when he’d done so with her beside him. So he filled the void with distraction.

At least until he opened the door to his silent penthouse. The place had never felt more empty. He took several echoing steps inside the marble foyer, letting the door shut behind him.

Everywhere he looked, he saw her ghost. In the kitchen cutting vegetables for the salads she was always trying to get him to eat. Lounging in the sunken living area, curled up like a cat on the plush sofa while she read a book.

She’d get so lost in what she was reading, she wouldn’t ever noticed him at the edge of the room so he could drink in his fill of her. The delicate curve of her neck. Her plump, pillowy lips and the way the top one was ever so slightly fuller than the bottom. That lip of hers drove him mad, the way she’d bite and worry at it when she was thinking about something. He grew stiff just remembering it.

He frowned and dropped his suitcase by the door. He needed a fucking drink.

But instead of going to the bar at the far end of the room, he found his feet heading towards his bedroom. Because no matter how he tried, he couldn’t rid himself of thoughts of her. And she’d never been more present than when she’d given herself to him completely in his bedroom.

He pushed open the door slowly intending to linger in the memories.

But then he threw it open with a bang. “What the fuck?”

He pulled out his gun from the holster beneath his jacket and swung around, looking for intruders. After confirming the bedroom and ensuite were clear, he closed the door and called Charon.

“Yes, boss?”

“Security team to the penthouse. Now.”

“Sending them.” Charon was immediately at attention. “What’s happening?”

“Intruders. They may or may not be still on premises,” Hades said, keeping his voice low.

“Team is on their way. What tipped you off? Did they ransack the place?”

Hades looked at his bed again and the gruesome tableau that had been laid out there. Three bloody, severed dog heads were arranged as if all belonging to a three-headed dog, a likely reference to Cerberus, guard-dog to the Underworld.

“Looks like the Titans have finally decided to respond to our message from a couple months ago. Either that or Poseidon has decided to up the stakes.”