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Chapter Five
“Afxisi,” Kellion murmuredto him just before he put on his helmet and drove off. One by one, the other officers, Yuri and Andreus, said the same thing to Helios before riding off into the night. The other members of the club followed until Helios was all alone. This was his fight, his honor, his woman at stake, and he did not want his club involved in what would prove to be the darkest days of his life.
For a long moment, Helios remained at the foot of the stairs leading to Greece’s most exclusive secret club, a palatial structure that only welcomed the country’s wealthiest and most evil. Every member of this club spent millions to have their darkest desires slaked, a side of them which they zealously kept hidden from the public. Even members of their own families didn’t know of their depravities, of their hunger to perform acts of heinous evil and see blood spilled for the sake of entertainment.
Afxisi, Helios said to himself as he took a deep breath. It meant ‘rise’ in Greek, and the word served as the cornerstone of their club’s foundation.
Again, he closed his eyes, his mind conjuring an image of MJ, which served to remind him what he was laying his life on the line for. He was halfway to emptying his bank account by now, five hundred million dollars burned to the ground, all of it gone to bribe and hire just about every damn expert in the world – anyone who could help him find out where MJ was before it was too late.
This time, however, he was struck with the change in his imaginary MJ. She was on her feet, dressed in her usual plaid men’s shirt, tank top, and jeans. He blinked furiously, the sight of it so fucking vivid and pure – God, she was so, so pure. How could someone so pure be in the hands of a monster?
His imaginary MJ smiled.
It nearly brought Helios to his knees.Don’t fucking smile at me, brat. I’m the reason you’re gone. I should have been there to help you. I should have known—
But MJ kept smiling, her eyes shining with love for him.
And she whispered,Afxisi.
Rise.
You still have our story to tell. A tragedy to overcome. And a cage to break me free from.
The words his MJ spoke were the oath that every member of the Afxisi took upon joining the club, a promise they made to themselves and to each other. Could the real MJ truly know of the same thing? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it didn’t matter. Right now, the MJ in his mind told him so, and it gave Helios the strength to do what he had come here to do.
Pulling down the Venetian mask to partially hide his identity, Helios climbed the stairs and knocked on the massive pair of doors, its oak surfaces bearing impressively intricate carvings. They slowly opened, a nymph-like creature standing on each side. They wore leather costumes that bared more than it hid, their garishly red lips forming a smile even as their eyes screamed from the degradation they suffered.
They bowed at the sight of Helios, and as he stepped forward, the doors slammed shut behind him. It was only that time he saw the silent pair of men standing guard, and they moved towards him in unison, giving him a thorough body check for weapons.
The club’s grand lobby was tastefully opulent, with a magnificent chandelier hanging from its domed ceiling, its glittering lights shining down on the plush Turkish carpets with its swirl of colors and patterns.
Another individual slithered towards Helios. He was dressed like a maître d, and his tone was properly deferential when he asked, “Good evening, sir. I believe this is our first time to welcome you to our club?”
“You assumed correctly,” Helios murmured. “I believe most people here know who I am.”
“Of course.” But the man remained where he was, smiling and blocking Helios’ path. “You are Helios Andreadis—” The man stopped in confusion at Helios’ shake of his head. “No?”
“When I say you know who I am, I believe it is by another name.” He paused. “Some of you may have heard people call me...Thanato.” The moment he said the word, he shed everything that made him Helios and instead embraced the darkness that resided inside him.
For MJ, he would be Thanato, the man everyone called Death, and for good reason.
****
“Ihave the most deliciousnews, cara,” Evangeline murmured as she reclaimed the seat next to Gracie. A svelte brunette several years Gracie’s junior, Evangeline was known affectionately as Belt by the other club members, in honor of her favorite tool for “training” slaves.
Gracie yawned. “Are you sure I’d be interested in it?” A beautiful ash blonde, she was known as the club’s Ice Princess because she was one of the toughest masochists to make a sub out of. Unlike most members, Gracie also had a sadistic streak in her, one that came out every time a man failed to make her weep in pain. True to her nickname, which had a double-edged meaning, Gracie liked to freeze the men’s testicles until they fell off as punishment.
“Oh, most assuredly. Because you will never guess who just walked into the club.”
One fine brow arched up. “The President?”
