Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

ATHENA

Perseus is the first out the door in a huff, and frankly, I don’t blame him. This entire situation is bullshit.

I could walk away.

Maybe I should walk away.

I have a good life. I have more money than I care to discuss. I don’t need this, I don’t need this house, and I sure as hell have nothing to prove to my dead mother.

But I saw the challenge in every single one of my mother’s boys’ eyes. And I’ve never been one to back down. They think they can bully me. Ha! Think again.

The lawyer hands me a few forms to sign, and I do. Then I tell the maid who opened the door for me the first time, a Mrs. Medea, I will be going to my penthouse to collect a few things and to please prepare my mother’s room for me.

“Please don’t clean out her things. I want to do that myself. But if you could dust, vacuum, and put fresh linen on the bed.”

“Of course, Ms. Godwin.”

“Athena, please,” I correct. I don’t mind being addressed as Ms. Godwin in business, but I don’t like it in my home. And since this gothic, vampire den is going to be my new home, I had better set the standard now.

I take all of two hours to make it back to the mansion with a single suitcase packed. I just need enough for right now. I’ll hire movers as I figure everything else out. I also asked for the PI to do some digging on these psychopaths my mother somehow trusted. They seem to know all about me, and I know nothing about them. Not that I care to know every detail, but at least the basics. It’s likely I’ll be having to live with the enemy. I should at least know what that means.

Being in my mother’s room brings out a torrent of emotions I’m not sure how to handle. So I don’t. I force them down. Right now, I have things that need my immediate attention. The parties will be easy enough. The mansion is huge; it needs some work, but it’s suitable as a venue for any kind of society party. Or it will be as soon as I hire gardeners and maintenance workers. As for the parties themselves, Seattle is full of event planners who will jump at the chance for steady work and fat commission checks.

Withdrawing from Medusa is going to send my father through the fucking roof. But I am owed some vacation time, and it will give him a chance to see that no, Apollo and Phoenix would not be better suited as men to run the company. Six months should be just enough time for him to figure out my absence is not worth pissing me off. I type out a quick email telling him of my intentions to step down for now, and how Apollo should know my job well enough to handle it. I laugh as I turn off my phone, not wanting to deal with the backlash.

One overgrown man child down, one to go.

I’m also not ready to have the conversation with Phoenix and Apollo that our dead mother was actually alive. But dead now. And oh hey, guess what? She left you guys out of the will but gave money to some adopted son and her lost boys. That conversation is sure to go over really well.

It takes far longer than I like for me to find Perseus. When I do, he is swimming laps in a heated pool under the house. There is a full gym down here. Good to know.

I take a seat and wait for him to finish his laps. I have a plan, a logical plan where we can both get what we want with minimal interruptions to our lives. Any reasonable person would see the value of what I have to propose.

“What the fuck do you want now? Come to steal the clothes off my back?” he says, climbing out of the pool in nothing but tiny swim shorts. I try and fail to not rake my eyes down his body.

Fuck, this man is gorgeous, too bad he is a raging asshole.

“As tempting as it would be to see you without those shorts to see if your dick is as big of a dick as you are, no. I’m here with a truce.” I hand him a towel, which he takes and then throws on the seat next to him before crossing his arms in front of his chest, and I’m pretty sure he is flexing.

“So, are you are going to leave? Give up your claim to my home and my money? That works for me.”

“Not quite.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes, barely. “And it isn’t your money. It was my mother’s.”

He huffs. “Funny this is coming from spoiled rich girl. Little Miss Godwin princess.”

“I’m not leaving so?—”

“Then we have nothing further to discuss.” He stands there staring at me, still dripping. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes on his and not following the trail that drops of water make down his tight, toned abs.

“Look, it’s a big place. I’m sure we can co-exist peacefully,” I try. “I’ll stay out of your way. You stay out of mine. Really, we can be roommates with the added benefit of this place being so large. The only space we actually have to share is the kitchen.”

“That’s not going to work for me.”

Asshole.

“You know what? Fine. I tried to be an adult, but you are just fucking determined to make this difficult.” I turn to leave, and he grabs my arm, whipping me around so fast I almost lose my balance.

“I’m making this difficult? This is all your fault.”

“I didn’t write the will, jackass!” I scream in his face. He doesn’t even flinch.

“No, but it’s a pretty big fucking coincidence that she dies right before you come looking. How fucking dumb do you think I am? I know you’re just here for her fucking money. What’s wrong? Did Daddy cut your allowance?”

“You think I did this? You think I killed my mother for this ugly-ass house?”

“Of course I think you did it. Why else did you show up when you did? I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Because I was looking for my mother. I was told she killed herself when I was fifteen. I was looking for answers!” Tears of frustration are building behind my eyes, but he won’t see them. I pull my hand out of his arm and walk away. Before I reach the door, I stop, not turning to face him. “The funny part, if you had just talked to me like a person, if you had answered the questions I have about her, I might have let you take it all. ”

“Do that now. Move out, give up your claim on my home, and I’ll give you all the answers you want.” He stands just behind me. I can feel the warmth of his body on my back. I hate how fast my heart beats and how in tune my body is with his. “All you have to do is leave, and I will tell you anything.”

His breath ghosts against my neck, sending sparks of electricity skipping across my skin. Looking up, I can see our reflection in the glass door separating the pool from the rest of the basement. His head is bent down close to my neck, he is leaning over me, his hands move to my hips, stopping just before touching me. I catch his eye in the reflection. His eyes are dark, his lips parted. He wants me as much as I want him.

Too bad he would never be enough for me, even if he wasn’t a raging asshole.

“You didn’t know I existed until after my mother was dead. Clearly, you didn’t really know anything about her. What answers could you possibly have for me?” I say.

His eyes go from dark, full of need and heat, to ice cold in a flash.

“I know everything about Freya. It wasn’t just a piece of paper that made me her son.”

“Then she lied to you. She had three real sons, she had a daughter, a family she abandoned. You didn’t know the first thing about her. I’ll find my answers on my own. Get used to me being here, or leave. Your choice.”

I throw my elbow into his stomach. He lets out a grunt, but I doubt I hurt him. He allows me to go without saying another word, and I leave him there to find the answers I need.

Something about what he said doesn’t sit right.

The timing. It is odd.

Thinking about that, I head back to my mother’s, now my room, praying she kept a diary here as well. I could simply ask Phoenix for the ones he’s been trying to push on me, but I’m not ready to unleash that chaos. Not yet.

Thirty minutes looking in drawers, on shelves, under mattresses with no luck. I’m about to give up when my door opens, and Perseus is standing on the other side, sadly now fully dressed. He glares at me from the door .

“Why are you in her room?”

“It’s my room now,” I say, sitting on the bed.

“There are dozens of other rooms to choose from. Why this one?” He braces his hands on the top of the door frame. I’m not sure if it’s to cage me in or keep him out.

“Because I can.” I sit back, bracing my hands on the bed behind me. “Please leave.”

“You can’t be in here.”

“This is my house, and this is the room I chose. Get over it, or move out.” I absolutely do not look at the way his defined arms are stretched out, and I have no desire to know what it would be like to be under him while he works out all his pent-up anger issues.

Nope, not interested. My heart is pounding because he is annoying, not because he is looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.

“This isn’t your house yet.” He means it as a threat, but why does it make heat race down my spine?

“What are you going to do, Perseus? You can’t touch me. You don’t have the balls. If anything happens to me, you end up with nothing. So either man the fuck up and do something, or go back to your room, turn your stereo up and blast angry emo music while you massage your small dick like the petulant child you are.”

For the first time since I’ve met Perseus, he smirks. “I can assure you one thing, princess. There’s nothing small about my dick.”