Cruel Seduction (Dark Olympus, #5) (19)

“Maybe one day I will.” Adonis moves past me to the long bar that stretches down one wall. When I met him, I would have wagered he’d never worked a day in his life, but he slips behind the bar with a level of comfort that suggests he’s slung drinks here plenty of times.

Interesting.

I follow more slowly, still taking in the space. Black marble tabletops and black leather chairs and stools. Bright-red shelves that house a truly impressive selection of liquor. It should feel like the whole place is trying too hard, but somehow it forms a cohesive whole.

Adonis doesn’t ask me what I want. That should irritate me, but as I slide onto a stool, I find myself fascinated by the graceful way he creates two identical drinks in front of him. He moves fast enough that I can’t quite catch everything—sure as fuck not enough to recreate it.

“This is your family’s place?”

“Yes.” He adds a cherry that’s so dark it’s almost black to each drink and slides one over to me. “It’s more a hobby than anything else, but my family likes to pride themselves on being a working family, so it’s tradition that each of us work here for a bit as adults.”

An entire business that functions as a hobby. That sounds like some rich people shit. Technically, I’m one of the rich now, have been ever since Minos pulled me out of that orphanage at fifteen. But half a life among the privileged doesn’t erase that my first half was spent with nothing of my own.

Nothing except Pandora.

I should have known better than to yell at her. She’s never liked that shit; it’s a guaranteed way to ensure she does the exact opposite of what I want. Like stay with Aphrodite.

The thought of my wife anywhere near Pandora has me clenching a hand around my glass. No matter what Aphrodite wants me to think, Pandora would never jump into bed with her… I pause. Well, she wouldn’t jump into bed with my wife on our wedding night, at least. I’ve seen the people Pandora is attracted to, and to a person, the only thing they have in common is that they’re beautiful, dangerous, and bad for her.

Like my wife.

I take a drink, mostly for something to do, and am surprised to find it light and refreshing. I examine the liquid in the glass. “What is this?”

“Old family secret.” Adonis smiles and leans forward to prop his elbows on the bar. “Now, let’s talk.”





7


ADONIS





“Eris would lose her mind if she knew I was here alone with you.”

“What my wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

His wife. Not mine. Never mine. She was never going to be, as she reminded me yesterday.

Most of my life, I’ve gone with the flow. I live a charmed existence and I’m aware enough to realize that, but I also realized pretty early on that I’d never hold one of the thirteen titles. My mother takes after her mother in being too outspoken and too stubborn to bend when others think she should. Old money has a way of thinking the world revolves around it instead of the other way around, and my mother reflects that.

My other parent isn’t that much better. They like to poke their nose in when they’re not welcome and have a nasty habit of sharing gossip a little too freely. Everyone does it, of course, but my parent doesn’t bother to pretend they’re not. It gets people’s hackles up.

So, no, I was never going to become one of the Thirteen.

I never wanted it, frankly. Hard to go with the flow when you’re the one directing it. It’s a lot of responsibility and I’ve seen the toll it takes on those who hold those positions. The power might be nice, but I have everything I could ever want. Why do I need more?

I know better now.

Hephaestus watches me like he’s not sure if I poisoned his drink. Honestly, it’s not a completely irrational fear. I wouldn’t do it, but there are others in the upper city who wouldn’t hesitate. But if Eris wanted him dead, he’d be dead, and I might be so furious at her that I can’t think straight, but I won’t trample on her plans.

“But you do want to hurt her. Hurt us, really.”

Hephaestus shrugs. “I got what I wanted. I’m one of the Thirteen.”

Surely he doesn’t expect me to believe that line. I’ve seen Minos’s kind before; Eris’s father, the last Zeus, was a lot like him. Charismatic enough to have the people of Olympus enraptured, and all the more dangerous because of it. Minos didn’t come to Olympus to place one of his children among the Thirteen.

He came for Olympus itself.

Which is why Eris is doing what she’s doing. The best and worst thing about her is that she will always put this city first. Her father was Olympus’s monster and raised his children to be the same. Somehow it got twisted into this messed-up sense of responsibility because of the family she was born into. Now that she’s Aphrodite, that feeling of responsibility has only gotten stronger.

Her brother is leaning hard on her. Probably her sister, too. Three of the Kasios family. It’s never happened even once in Olympus’s history.

“Why did you invite me for a drink?” Hephaestus asks abruptly. “Be honest with me.”

Honesty is a risk, but it’s all I have. I take a breath and lay my cards on the table. “I don’t want you to hurt Eris.”

He studies me. Hephaestus is a big man. He looks every inch an old-world warrior with his broad shoulders, square jaw, and callused palms. Based on the final Ares trial, his foster brother is trained with a sword, and I suspect Hephaestus is as well.