by Amelia Wilde
It’s better.
And I look fine. There’s not much in this gauzy thing to straighten, other than the underdress, and it is flawless when I sweep into the ballroom.
This is the part I spend much time thinking about. What am I supposed to do now that I’m in here, if I’m not allowed to visit with clients? That’s how the other women make deals. They curl up into laps, they put their fingertips on collars, they flit in beautiful gowns from one place to another wearing mysterious smiles. If a person off the street walked in without knowing where he was, he would only see a cocktail party trending toward dinner, lit up with gowns like jewels and suits like uncut diamonds.
Zeus has wrapped it up in a layer of class that shouldn’t exist.
And class doesn’t allow for nervous women in pink dresses to stand around aimlessly and wring her hands.
I hit my stride several steps inside the door. I’ll sit in one of his chairs. Two big chairs, side by side, at one end of the room. Sometimes he sits there with a guest. Other times alone. He is always surveying his kingdom.
He is, in his way, a king.
I decide to obey him. For tonight. It will convince him that I’m following his rules. I am following his rules, except for the part where I found him in his office and learned something important, which is that...
He still wants me.
I drop down into his chair and wait for someone to tell me I’m in the wrong spot. No one does. Maybe not everyone knows what I am to him now—property—but enough people do. Fine. Good. I arrange my face into what I hope is a mysterious smile and watch the rest of the room. Savannah hurries in, flustered and pink cheeked, but she swipes her hands quickly over her face and she’s seductive again. Assessing. She’s not going to take risks or waste her time.
While I sit here in my own bruised, complicated feelings.
I don’t want to be in love with him, but I am.
I don’t want to feel a pull to him, but I do.
I don’t want to be on my knees in front of him.
Ha—a big, fat lie.
I’m a good girl with my hands in my lap for a full fifteen minutes before glittering dark catches my eye. It’s Persephone, escorted into the ballroom by Hades, who...has an effect. People don’t want to look at him. It’s like they’re afraid that if they do, he might retaliate. He leans down to say something into her ear and Persephone laughs, her face lighting up with amusement. She might be the only one in this room who’s not terrified of him.
I am, and I know he won’t touch me. Not because he isn’t strong enough, or powerful enough, but because Persephone is the only one for him.
It’s simple envy that makes my chest ache. Not heartbreak.
He brings her across the room, the two of them creating an empty space around them as people shift and pull back. His enormous dog makes them shrink back further.
Who brings a dog to a ball?
They’re almost to me when a single person approaches Hades. Not timidly. Not cautiously. With big strides and a smile crinkling his dark eyes. The two men shake hands, their heads close together. Persephone lifts Hades’ big hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.
Then she comes over to me, leaving the man and dog behind.. And drops, with a sigh, into the other chair.
She’s stunning. The black gown is glittering, I see now, with sewn-in gems. They’re so clear and sparkling that they must be real diamonds. She looks like the stars have come down and wrapped her in the night, though she leans her head back like she’s out in a green field, the sun on her face. “How are you enjoying the party?”
It makes me laugh. “It makes for good people-watching.”
Persephone straightens up and leans toward me. Are we friends? I don’t know if I would ever be so lucky. But her silver eyes glow. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says. “I don’t like to interrupt people’s work. Oh—am I in your way?”
“You killed my uncle for me,” I say over the twist in my heart. “I think I’d abandon any client for whatever you wanted.”
“Technically...” Her hand comes down on the arm of her chair, so delicate. “It was the cardiac arrest that killed him.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. It’s so inadequate, for what she did. For interrupting my uncle. For not backing down. A new lump in my throat traps the rest of what I’d considered saying.
Persephone pats my hand. “You’re welcome. But we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” She looks like she might say more, but doesn’t. We sit in silence for a minute. I have a thousand questions for her. The way Zeus mentioned her made me think she’d been on the mountain with Hades for a long time, but it couldn’t have happened that way. There were things going on in the city rumored to be about a fight between the two brothers—maybe it happened then.
My mother was dying. I wasn’t paying attention.
But now, looking at the way she glows so darkly...
Her eyes track Hades, who has not gone far, not out of sight. He sits at a table with the man and as I watch he laughs. Out loud. It transforms his face, softening some of the cruel lines. Oh. Oh.
Did he hurt you? I want to ask. Did you like it?
“You would look good in red,” I mention.
She turns her smile on me, which is like being bathed in flower petals. “I wear it sometimes, but Hades prefers me in black during times like these.”
“I thought he never left his mountain.”
A little frown. “Things are complicated. And...” A deep breath, a shake of her head. “Are you all right? I know I said we didn’t have to talk about it, but I know what I walked in on at the cathedral.”
I hear cathedral but my body feels countertop and mirror. The top of my head feels it still, the hard push of the glass. The silk down my throat. I swallow at it, once, twice, but it doesn’t go away. At this moment a uniformed man with a tray comes by with sparkling water. I’ll have to find a way to tip him heavily later. I think he’s just saved my life.
“I’m biding my time.” The water helps clear the bitter taste of fear from my mouth. “Doing what I’m told. Doing what Zeus tells me to do.”
She pauses. “If you need a place to go, there’s a place on the mountain for you.”
“No.” A lightning bolt to the heart, to even think of leaving him, despite everything. “I’m trying to get back to France. To where my mother was from.”
“France.” A jealous sigh. “My dream was always to visit the New York Public Library. The lions in front have names, did you know that? They’re called Patience and Fortitude. Hades thought it was funny when we went.”
I peer at the man in his meeting, the one who is known to prefer his mountain over anything. “He did that for you?”
“He paid for a private overnight visit. We landed at sunset, and then—” Her eyes flutter closed at the memory. “It was wonderful.”
I could throw up this sparkling water right now for the jealousy. It’s so foolish, so pointless. These are not good men. They are cruel and mean. A small voice whispers but not all the time. I ignore it. “Did you go at night because of his eyes?”
Persephone opens hers and meets mine. “Most people pretend not to notice.” A longer pause. She’s making a decision about trusting me. “But yes, that’s why.”
“Then what—”
“He has an extreme sensitivity to light. He’s almost reached the end of his tolerance for the evening now.”
The lights aren’t particularly bright in here. Ambiance, Zeus would say. We both look toward where Hades is wearing a thoughtful expression and listening to the other man. He has no tells in this semi-public space. No hand to his eyes, no flinching. His pain is part of him.
His brother, too.
“How do you know?”
Persephone nods toward the table. “Conor.” The dog has his chin on Hades’ thigh, and Hades drops one hand to the top of his head. This does not stop the dog—Conor—from pushing at him under the table. “And I
know him. We’re still working on pain management, now that my mother...” The sound of the party presses in on us. “Brigit, I have to ask you. Have you seen anyone who looks like me around the brothel?” For the first time, worry crosses her face. “In places Zeus doesn’t go?”
I wouldn’t know about those places. The mention of it chills my spine. “No. I haven’t.”
“Please tell me if you do.”
“I—” She’s just so sincere, so worried, so beautiful. I don’t want to say no to her. But telling her anything, once she leaves this place, will be a matter of asking Zeus to get in touch. And that...could actually work in my favor. Maybe it’s wrong to want him to feel what I’m feeling, this raw frustration, this wanting. “I will. If you see my father here, will you tell me?”
“Yes,” she says. “But he won’t come for you here. Zeus is protecting you now.”
“No, he’s not.” The bitterness returns to my mouth. “He’s protecting his money.”
“He’ll do that too.”
A hot anger scorches my throat. “Honestly, it’s pretty strange that you’re defending him.”
“I’m not,” Persephone says, looking me in the eye. “He has his secrets. His bastard children. He tried to destroy my home out of spite.” But then her eyes find Hades again. “But I know the things I’ve done for people I love. I’m not sure I can judge anyone anymore.”
14
Brigit
Bastard children.
Bastard children fill my mind and fill my belly with acid. They keep me up all night in the room on Zeus’s floor. He was so clever when he designed this space. His personal rooms take up fully half of the penthouse level. A slim quarter is taken by the attic space, and the rest is a series of guest rooms, all with their own stairs from a common elevator. Hades and Persephone have the largest suite.
I have the smallest.
It’s still huge. Just not huge enough to truly pace around for any length of time. I make it work through the delivery of my breakfast tray the next morning, stare at the ceiling until lunch, and waste most of the afternoon trying not to think of Zeus. It makes my face hot to think of him, and other parts of my body flushed.
It’s all too much.
It’s almost evening when I go down to the spa with a teacup cradled in my palms. A nudge at my elbow almost spills it onto my hands.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” The voice belongs to auburn-haired, freckled Alicia, who puts her hand on my arm. “You’re back.”
“Where were you?” I didn’t see her at the party last night.
“I had an extended contract. I was here, just not...downstairs.” Worry clouds her eyes. “The girls have been saying things about you.”
“Let them.”
“You weren’t stolen, then?”
Countertop. Mirror. I avert my eyes from the ones here. “It was brief,” I tell her. “I’m back now.”
Alicia pouts. “But not in our room?”
“No. Zeus moved me somewhere else.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Are you two—”
“We two are nothing,” I tell her. “Will you do my makeup?” I settle into a chair and spin myself away from the mirror. Alicia is delighted, fluttering around the stacks of new products. “Do you have a client lined up for tonight?”
Her eyes widen as she comes in with moisturizer and she shakes her head. “I’m working a special event.” she gasps. “You should come, too. It’s a lot of money. Reya,” she calls, turning away from me, her hand hovering over some foundation. “Can Brigit work the dinner?”
Reya seems distracted, her shining hair piled on top of her head in a bun. She’s swiping on mascara. Not looking at us. “I’ll add it to the ledger later,” she says. “Get her where she needs to be.” Someone else calls for her and she’s gone.
“What’s the dinner?”
Alicia bites her lip. “It’s this exclusive, once-a-year thing. Zeus only invites ten men. And the girls who get to work the dinner get huge bonuses.”
“For doing what? Fucking them at the table?”
She laughs, and it’s warm and real.
It isn’t all heartbreak, coming here.
“For serving them naked.”
I stare at her so long that Alicia stops what she’s doing with concealer and blush. “Did I break you? Are you—is something wrong with your brain?”
“I’m so excited that I can’t move,” I tell her. “This is perfect.”
The dinner begins late. Almost ten. Zeus has gone through the crowd and brought each man to his private dining room one by one so they can chat on the way there. I’ve managed to stay out of sight. The last-minute preparations are somehow more intense when you’re naked except for a pair of high heels. We’ve all made a million adjustments to hair and jewelry in the staging room and kitchen connected to the main dining area.
When they are all seated, Reya lines us up with a lingering look at me. Maybe she doesn’t remember giving me permission to be here, but I act like I’ve had it all along. She doesn’t stop me at the door. “Steady hands, girls,” she says.
The first item on the agenda is to pour wine. The men around the table already have water.
Zeus has his glass to his mouth when I enter the room.
He inhales so much of the water that he chokes, sputtering, and one of the men next to him claps him on the back. Alicia lets me step in front of her. “You’re on Zeus,” she says. So Reya was paying attention. If I’m only serving him, then I can’t become entangled with any of the other men.
I stand close while I pour his wine, bending down so low that my nipples brush the sleeve of his jacket.
Zeus doesn’t move.
I do it again for the appetizers, the soup, and the main course. The men drink deeply over the evening. Each hour makes them looser, and they start skirting the rules. They’re not allowed to touch the women until the meal is over. But hands start slipping over skin, light, glancing touches. When I’m not with Zeus he’s watching to make sure none of them do it.
And I’m watching him.
I’m watching his eyes darken every time I walk in the room. The color wash over his face. The way he takes a deep breath every minute, then a deeper one. The remnants of dessert decorate the table. His drink is empty.
Everyone else has tipped over into a new phase of drunkenness. None of them seem to notice when he catches my wrist, keeping me bent over, a pitcher of wine in my hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s not against the rules.” I make my eyes wide and innocent. “I’m not taking clients.”
“You didn’t think to notify me that you wanted to work this event?” It’s chilling, the smile he can keep in place even while he’s seething with anger and lust. The front of his pants makes it obvious.
“You didn’t notify me that you had bastard children all over the city.”
His eyes narrow. “I don’t.”
“Liar.” His hand squeezes on my wrist, and we’re in a new territory. “People will see you. I’ve been bent over too long.”
“I don’t care.” The smile falters, but he still manages to look calm despite how much he’s suffering with his hard cock. “I pay for any pregnancy that occurs here. For any outcome. If the outcome is a child, then I pay for all the necessities until they reach adulthood. None of them are mine.”
This is a whorehouse. There have to have been many children. “You have that much money?”
“Look around you, sweetheart. The money never ends.”
“Only if you admit that you want me, right?” I’m echoing his expression back at him, as if we are two people at a dinner party having a calm but bitter work-related discussion. “If you admitted that, all your money would go away. You could do it right now.”
“I don’t want you.”
“You’re lying.” A breathy, quiet laugh. “Maybe you’re lying about the children, too.” For a man with golden eyes, they’re almost black. “What? Are you going to ta
ke me over your lap and punish me for saying it?” He releases me, eyes hot. “I didn’t think so.”
I start to straighten up, but he’s faster. He darts out a hand and tips the pitcher, spilling it into his own lap, and I’m so surprised and turned on just by being this close that I gasp without thinking. The men nearest to us laugh, and Zeus laughs with them. “Give me a moment, gentlemen. Brigit, with me.”
I’m shivering with desire and, yes, a shallow fear as I follow him into the staging area and back through to the kitchen. He holds open the door for me and I go in. It’s empty. I whirl around to face him. “If you wanted to fuck me, you could have—”
I’m lifted off my feet by the force of his body colliding with mine, one hand under my jaw and the other lifting, lifting, until my ass meets the cold metal prep table. He’s going for his belt, his zipper, and then he’s out, so hard he’s already leaking. Those big hands come up to my head and tilt my face back so he can see me.
So I can see him.
There’s no time to say anything because he drops one hand between my legs, fingers at my entrance, and when he pulls them up to my eyes they’re glistening. Wet. He laughs, and then his hands are down on my ass, hauling me forward and onto him.
It’s a brutal first thrust and it feels like a punishment and a homecoming. He keeps his hands flat, though I can tell if he curls them there would be bruises. Zeus drops his head to speak into my ear while he fucks me. “If I took you over my lap right now, you wouldn’t walk out of here. The things I’d do to you would ruin the party. Your screaming would ruin the fucking party. The things I would do to you would make the other whores hide their eyes. So now, Brigit, now I have to fuck some sense into you.”
I put my hands on his shoulders.
He’s letting me do it, I realize through the haze of pleasure and pain from the stretch. Zeus has me in his hands like a rag doll.
He could do anything.
Anything.
But what he does is continue fucking me with raw, brute strength. An animal noise escapes him and it calls to the primal thing inside me, pulling my nerves tight. He’s been waiting so long. I can tell by the way his muscles tense, by the way he can’t hold himself back.
