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Chapter 16
Hades walked down the corridor toward his room after a difficult day. After leaving St. John in his cell, he immediately collected a group of men and went back to his hell.
The hell was in ruins. The furniture had burnt, the walls were scorched, but the framework still stood. And it only meant one thing: they had a lot of work to do. He couldn’t let his empire disappear without a trace, so he and a group of his men worked diligently on cleaning up the rubble so that they could restore it to its previous glory.
He owed it to Ava to not let it rot away. He owed it to every man and woman residing under the roof of his mansion. More importantly, he owed it to himself.
His blood still screamed for revenge, especially with Ava’s seducer in his dungeon. But after what had happened with Eloise, hope had settled in his heart. Hope for a brighter future. What if what had happened between them wasn’t a mistake?
Hades paused at Eloise’s door. The vixen called to him, and he could not quite walk away. He put a hand on the door handle and heard the sounds of chatter coming from inside. Hades frowned.
He had just seen Verity downstairs, so it must have been someone else.
Hades opened the door and walked in.
To his immense surprise, the prisoner, St. John’s wife, sat on the chair opposite Eloise, quietly speaking to her. Hades blinked, then stepped back to make sure the guards were still in place outside of Mrs. St. John’s door.
He walked back into the room and regarded two women with a cold gaze.
“It makes me wonder,” he said when Eloise raised her head and acknowledged his presence, “who are my men guarding in that other room?”
“No one,” Eloise said meekly. Her cheeks reddened, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “But it’s not their fault. And neither is it Helen’s. I tricked the guards and dragged her here.”
Helen. Was that her name? Hades looked at St. John’s wife again. She swallowed but raised her gaze to his. Her lips trembled, and it was clear that she was frightened, but she fought to conceal it as much as she could.
“I’d like to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, despite her terrified look.
“I am afraid that is not possible.”
“Why not?” Helen asked.
“I do not have to explain myself to you. Now return to your chamber,” Hades said sharply.
“Keyon—” Eloise started, and he sent her a withering gaze.
She instantly clamped her lips shut, but straightened, not hiding her gaze anymore. He was acting like a beast again.
“Nobody will harm you here, Miss Helen,” he said a little softer.
“Mrs. St. John,” she said firmly.
Hades cocked his head to the side. Mrs. St. John was a thin, ghostly white, and frail lady. Yet she managed to stand up to him while her husband lay pitifully at Hades’ feet. What was she doing married to that scum? He’d be doing her a favor, ridding her of that rakehell of a husband.
Hades opened the door and tipped his head toward one of the guards. “Please escort… Mrs. St. John back to her room.”
The guards looked at each other puzzled. Before both rushed to Hades’ side. Miss Helen, for Hades hated to think of her as Mrs. St. John, slowly glided across the floor and toward the exit. She stopped before him and looked up at him with an uncertain gaze. There were tears in her eyes.
“What are you going to do to my husband?” she whispered.
“Nothing he hasn’t already done to himself.”
Sal reached to grab her, but she danced away from his touch. She floated away like a queen back to her throne and not as a prisoner entering her cell.
The door closed behind them, and Hades was finally alone with the woman he craved.
“Eloise—”
“Keyon—”
