Descent Page 14

  “Persephone Abbot took over control of the company after her father’s accident. Why didn’t you proceed with her as you would had the accident not occurred?”

  “Two reasons. First, because we hit several permit issues that without Quincy’s pull, I’ve been unable to resolve and second because I made a promise to Quincy. He didn’t want his family involved in our dealings.”

  “More than one dealing?”

  Again, he just smiles. “I liked Quincy. Seemed like a decent man.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me.”

  He doesn’t reply and I wonder if he hears the disdain in my voice.

  Ares clears his throat and we both turn to him. “You mentioned the accident.”

  Dominic nods. “We all know the hit-and-run wasn’t an accident. And that’s the more important reason I’m here. It’s the reason I have extra protection for my family. We have a common enemy.”

  I feel my eyes narrow.

  “Jeremiah Montgomery,” Dominic says.

  “Dear ole dad,” Ares says.

  “If this has to do with Hughes, he’s no longer in my father’s pocket,” I say.

  “No, he’s in yours,” Dominic replies.

  “And now that I have a stake in Abbot Enterprises, I’ll make sure we have whatever permits we need to proceed.”

  “There’s no love lost between you and your father, is there?” he says it like he already knows. “In fact, you’re doing everything in your power to destroy him. Why?”

  I force a grin. “Family business. I’m sure you understand.”

  He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “The sting is a little different when family betrays us, isn’t it?”

  “As you know,” I reply, because I know a little something about Benedetti family history too. About how he got to where he is with two older brothers who were ahead of him in the ascent to the throne.

  “You will honor the contract Abbot and I agreed upon, including the transfer of the hotel to me one year after its completion,” he says it like it’s not a question, but I answer anyway because I’m not afraid of him.

  “I’m not in the same position as Abbot. I have the capital and wouldn’t need to sell.”

  “But you need an ally. More than you realize.”

  “I can handle my father.”

  “I’m sure you can but do you really think he’s the only player in this? This hotel goes up and I own the city. My enemies will have to find new holes to call home.”

  “Are you telling me my father is backed by another mafia family?”

  He nods. “One who will do anything he needs to do to destroy me. Destroy my wife.”

  “I’m not up on my mob trivia. Who are we talking about?”

  “Angus Scava.”

  Ares whistles and I see him lean back in his chair. I scratch my forehead, go through the details I know about Scava, which aren’t many. He isn’t as powerful as Benedetti, that’s the most important, but I’ve heard his name more and more of late.

  “What does he have with you? Or your wife?”

  “Family business. I’m sure you understand.”

  I nod. They are, after all, my own words.

  “How did our father get involved with Scava?” Ares asks.

  “He needed Quincy Abbot to keep quiet about something. That detail I don’t know, but he used Abbot’s arrangement with me to blackmail him into keeping his mouth shut about what it is he knows. Or knew. Once people get wind a senator is working with a mob boss, well, they assume corruption.”

  “But isn’t it corrupt?”

  He grins. “Much like you, I’m in business to make money. You’ll do what you need to do to get what you want, won’t you? Don’t you? Does that make you corrupt?”

  I think of Persephone upstairs in my room. Handcuffed to my bed. Corrupt doesn’t begin to cover what I’m doing to her.

  “If you know who is responsible for the hit-and-run, you’d better tell me.”

  “I have my ideas.”

  “You think Scava ordered it?” Ares asks.

  “I didn’t say that. And I have a feeling if it was Scava the man would be dead, not in a coma no matter the little chance he has to wake.”

  “Why would Scava work with my father? I understand my father going to a man like him if he needed something like the hit-and-run, because you are suggesting it was my father, but I don’t see what Scava would get out of it.”

  “Your father had Hughes in his pocket. It’s as hard for Angus Scava to get the permits he needs as it is for me.”

  “And now that I’m the man with Hughes in my pocket, my father has lost his value.”

  Dominic nods. “Don’t underestimate the fact that you and anything precious to you also becomes a target. I can offer my protection, since we’re partners.”

  “We’re not partners, and I can take care of what’s mine.”

  “As you wish.” He checks his watch then looks at me again, his gaze level and cool and I’m reminded of his reputation. His ruthlessness.

  “I want to get home to my wife and family,” he says, standing. “I can count on you to continue our business?”

  I stand too. “The contract is airtight.” I already had my lawyer look into it, and I can’t get out of it even if I want to.

  He smiles, extends his hand. “That secret your father is hiding, I’m very curious.”

  I study him, try to read him. But he gives nothing away. “As am I.”

  We drop our hands and Dominic turns to my brother. “Ares. I’ll see you next week.”

  “See you then.”

  We watch Dominic Benedetti exit with his entourage of soldiers and only when he’s gone do I turn to my brother.

  “What business do you have with him?” I ask Ares.

  “Nothing you’d be interested in. What happened to your face?”

  “Nothing. Be careful, brother. Dominic Benedetti is a dangerous man.”

  “I can say the same to you.”

  I sit back down. “You think father’s behind the hit-and-run?”

  “I don’t know. He’s a bastard but that seems a step too far even for him.”

  “I’ll pay him a visit later. Right now, I have to get upstairs.”

  “How is she?”

  “A handful.”

  “You’ve always liked a handful, brother.”

  24

  Persephone

  When Hayden finally returns, I’m sitting in his office behind his desk. He steps off the elevator and pauses, raising one eyebrow before his face breaks into a smile. I notice he’s carrying my boots.

  “You look good there,” he says, setting the boots down and coming around the desk. “But get out.” He takes my arm and lifts me up.

  I look up at him, again feeling at a disadvantage barefoot because he’s so much taller than me.

  “Doctor says you’re fine,” he says. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “I have a hard head.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “You cuffed me to the bed.”

  “You left me no choice.”

  “Don’t do it again.”

  “Don’t be unreasonable again.”

  I exhale an audible breath. “How was the meeting?” I sit down and pick up the boots to put them on. Peter had someone bring over several sweaters and jeans but when I asked him about shoes, he told me he forgot. My guess is it was Hayden’s way of making sure I did as I was told and stayed put.

  Hayden presses some keys on the keyboard, his attention to the monitor. “Were you snooping?”

  “Couldn’t break into your computer or I would have.”

  He smiles like it’s what he expected.

  “Are you going to tell me about the meeting?”

  He takes a few moments, the keys clicking as he types something before he sits back in his chair and faces me.

  “We have to finish our earlier discussion first.”

  I try to keep my expression blank. I’m not
sure I succeed.

  “Come here, Persephone,” he says, pushing his chair back a little.

  I get up, go to him, take his hand when he extends it.

  He shifts his attention to that hand, caresses it with his thumb. He looks at me and tugs me to him, drawing me down to sit on his lap, my legs between his.

  Being this close to him does something to me. Always has. My heart beats a little faster, and it takes all I have not to curl up into him.

  For a long moment, he studies my face and the look in his green-gold eyes, it’s different than earlier. No longer hard or angry. Softer, like how he just caressed my hand.

  He slides one hand up to cup the back of my head, gentle where the bump is. He doesn’t speak but draws me down and puts his lips to my forehead and I close my eyes at the contact. At the tenderness of it.

  When he pulls back, he looks at me, eyes just inches from mine.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I say. “You’re not like him. You’re nothing like him.”

  Jonas. I don’t need to say his name.

  He nods. He’s studying me so intently it’s hard to hold his gaze.

  “What did he do to you?”

  I touch a button on his shirt, steeling myself before returning my gaze to his.

  “Nothing. He didn’t do anything to me. He just didn’t take it well when I broke off our engagement.”

  “What does that mean didn’t take it well?”

  I shake my head, shrug a shoulder. “He wasn’t happy, that’s all.”

  “You said something earlier.”

  “I told you, it wasn’t—”

  “Did he force you, Persephone?”

  I swallow, feel myself weaken, feel my skin go clammy. I shake my head and I hear myself talk but it’s like I’m on autopilot. “I was a virgin. How would I be a virgin if he forced me?”

  “There are other ways.”

  “He didn’t rape me.”

  “You don’t need to protect him.”

  “I’m not protecting him.”

  “Are you lying to me?”

  “Nothing I’ve told you is a lie. Not one word.”

  “And the things you’re leaving out?”

  I look away, beyond him and out the window at the dark fall day.

  “It’s going to storm again,” I say, looking back at him.

  He watches me with narrowed eyes but this secret he can’t draw from me.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him anymore. I’ll kill him before I let him touch you again.”

  “I know you will. And that’s why you can’t go near him, Hayden.”

  “Tell me what he did.”

  “Leave it alone.”

  “Persephone—”

  “I said leave it alone.”

  “What are you hiding?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But you’re afraid of him.”

  “I’m not…it’s not—”

  “You’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”

  I need to change the subject. We can’t talk about Jonas. Ever. “Only temporarily yours.”

  His eyes narrow. “There’s that word again.” He takes my face in his hands and pulls me so close that my nose is almost touching his. “It doesn’t have to be temporary.”

  “You mean I can be your permanent whore?” I hear my own voice and I hate myself for saying it.

  His hold on me tightens. “Is that what you think you are to me?”

  “We have a contract that says as much.”

  He clenches his jaw, eyes hardening. “Is that what you want? Me to stick to the letter of the contract?”

  “It’s not…I—”

  “Is that what you want?” He squeezes his fingers a little, just a little. Just enough.

  “It’s probably easier.” It twists my heart to say it.

  “Easier?”

  “In the long run.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is wrong. But I’m not doing it to protect Jonas. I’m protecting Hayden. He just can’t know it, no matter the cost, because this truth would damage him. It might destroy him. And so, I go on lying even though I feel sick for it. “So no one gets the wrong idea.” Does he hear the tremor in my voice?

  He snorts, nods. “Of course.” He pushes me off his lap and down to the floor so I’m kneeling between his open legs and instantly, everything shifts.

  “Then I’ll have you on your knees,” he says, pulling my hair into a ponytail and leaning down to kiss my mouth. “So you don’t get the wrong idea.”

  He leans down to undo my jeans and slips his hand inside, into my panties to cup my sex. He draws back and looks at me as he rubs, and my mouth falls open because when he touches me, I forget everything else. Everything but him and as I watch him, I think how beautiful he is, and I hate myself for what I’m doing. For lying to him.

  “You like this?” he asks.

  When I don’t answer, he tugs on my hair.

  “I asked you a question. I want to be clear you’re not getting the wrong idea.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Do you like my hands on your pussy?” he asks, his tone harsh. “If you’re my whore, I want to know.”

  That word makes me flinch. “Hades—”

  “Say it. Tell me.” He tugs harder.

  “Yes.”

  “Do better than that. Tell me what you like.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He draws his hand out of my panties and brings his fingers to my mouth, wipes them across my lips, my face, then opens his belt, undoes his pants and fists his cock with the hand that’s still wet with me.

  I watch him stroke himself, long and slow, precum beading the smooth head of his hard cock.

  He rises to his feet and I look up at him, feeling the slight pressure on my skull as he keeps my face tilted upward.

  “You’re not getting the wrong idea, are you, Persephone?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t stop looking at me,” he says as he guides his cock into my mouth. “I want to watch you take me when I fuck your face.”

  He moves me over him, taking his time, and I do as he says, I keep my eyes on his as he pushes in deeper and deeper. I push against his thighs, but he doesn’t stop and it’s getting harder to keep my eyes on his as he begins to move faster, deeper, cutting off my oxygen as he penetrates my throat.

  I shove against his thighs, try to turn my head to get some air.

  “You have to learn how to suck my cock if you’re my whore,” he says, tugging hard once. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? That you’re my whore?”

  “Hades,” I choke out.

  “Take it,” he commands, thrusting. “Take it, Persephone.”

  I push against him as his grip tightens and with his other hand, he grabs hold of the edge of the desk and leans over me and I don’t hear him when he speaks, I don’t hear his words as he fucks my face and there’s nothing gentle about this fucking. Nothing tender in his touch.

  Tears blur my vision as he nears the end, his cock growing impossibly thicker as I feel that jerk, that twitch before he stills. He makes a sound from deep inside his chest and I feel him empty down my throat, reflex working to swallow all he’s giving me and just when I think I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he pulls out, dropping into his seat. He hugs me to him, my face pressed to his lap.

  I listen to his shortened breath and I wipe my tears as I let him hold me like this. Because I need this, need to pretend I’m not what I said I was. Need to pretend I’m more. Just for a few minutes. I need to feel his strength, his dominance. I need to feel him hold me.

  But then he abruptly pushes the chair back, releasing me so I drop to my hands.

  I look up at him.

  He watches me as he stands, looming over me with a look on his face that’s cruel. That’s not my Hades, the man who stayed up to watch me sleep last night. To make sure I was okay.

  He tucks himself back into his pants, eyes cold and unreadable.

  “Get cle
aned up and get out. My driver will take you to see your father and then you’ll go home where you’ll stay until I need your services again.”

  He walks away, and I watch him go, watch him walk to the elevator and punch in the code. When the doors open, he turns to me, holding them open. He raises his eyebrows.

  I get to my feet, zip up my jeans. I’m unsteady as I walk around his desk and pick up my clutch from last night. I get to the elevator and stop.

  “Hayden, I didn’t—”

  “I have a busy day.”

  I swallow back my hurt and when he reaches up, I think he’s going to hug me or something, but he just wipes his thumb over the corner of my mouth, cleaning off what I couldn’t swallow.

  That single act humiliates and hurts more than his words.

  I bow my head, unable to look at him. Not wanting him to see me like this. Because it’s my own fault. I deserve this. You reap what you sow, and I sowed distrust.

  25

  Hayden

  I knew today would be a shitty day before it started. This day always is. What just happened with Persephone makes it shittier, but that’s my fault. I guess I’d somehow gotten my hopes up with her.

  Anyway, how did I expect this to go? She’s not in my bed by choice. She’s there because she has to be. And maybe she was right to remind me of it. Because maybe I was the one getting the wrong fucking idea.

  A glance at the shopping bag in the passenger seat of the SUV has my mind shifting gears to Nora. I start the engine and pull out of my parking spot.

  There was no suicide note, but the coroner still ruled her death a suicide. She’d swallowed enough sleeping pills to put a horse out and just to be sure, she’d slit her wrists. I wonder if the pills had started their work or if she felt any pain.

  The last time I’d seen her was that Halloween, just days before she did it. That night was a line of demarcation in all our lives.

  Nora and I weren’t blood. My father adopted her when she was nine. I loved her, though. Right away. I had an idea what she’d come from. I’d woken her up from nightmares that seemed to stalk her nightly and every time, she’d just smile and hug me and refuse to tell me a word of what haunted her.