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I’m considering what else I want to take with me when my phone rings. It’s the P.I.
“This is Athena,” I answer the phone.
“Ms. Godwin, I have been digging more into your mother’s death as you asked, and I have something. I found these letters in a safety deposit box. I think your mother was killed, but not by your father. I’m not sure which, but I believe one of the men you’re living with may have been the perpetrator. I need to do more digging, but I had to let you know. You may not be safe there. You may want to stay somewhere more secure.”
I take a moment to digest his bomb of intel. One of the boys, my mother’s boys, could be the snake that killed her.
“What makes you think that?” I ask. “From what I’ve seen, these men loved her.”
“The letters I found are threatening her, demanding money. Few people knew she was alive, and your father paid her a handsome monthly stipend. Why would he need money? He would just stop the payments.”
“I want to see pictures of the letters.”
“I already sent them to you,” he says, “but you’ll see that whoever sent them, knew her closely. And since she lived the second part of her life as a hermit with those men in the house as her only associates. She remained hidden, as per your father’s wishes.”
I release a heavy sigh. “Okay, keep me posted on what else you find.”
“Ms. Godwin… I really think you should consider leaving the mansion.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I hang up the phone and look at the pictures the P.I. sent me.
They’re everything he said… and more.
Threats on her life. Fucked up threats about exposing her as a fraud.
Who the fuck would threaten her? Is it truly possible that one of her boys is responsible?
Perseus. Eros. Paris. Heph.
I didn’t have any of them pegged as a killer. Yet…
It can’t be all of them. No way could it have been a group effort. That much I know. But then at the same time, do I know anything anymore? Have I allowed each of those men to get in my head? Was that their plan all along?
Have I misjudged each one of them?
My father always taught me to listen to my intuition. It’s the most powerful tool I have. Instinct is a tool that the mighty can use to get ahead in business and in life. My instinct has always been good. Laser sharp, in fact. I just need to listen to it.
I close my eyes and focus. Who can I trust? Who out of those boys do I know without a doubt had nothing to do with Freya’s death?
One name is clear…
Eros.
He didn’t say he was on my side, or that I can trust him, but he has proven he is at least not a complete ass. And my instinct knows that he’s not a killer.
I send him a text.
Me: I need you.
Eros: for…
Me: please.
Not even a full minute passes before a knock sounds at my door. I open it to him standing in the doorway, his arms braced on the doorway.
“You called, baby girl?”
I step back, letting him into the room.
“So, is this a social visit or a booty call? Planning on leaving me with the world’s worst blue balls again? Or is it my turn to leave you wanting again?” I know his words are meant as a tease, but I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes.
He turns to see the tracks rolling down my cheeks, and his entire demeanor changes. He isn’t the cocky asshole anymore. His natural arrogance turns to concern as he pulls me into his arms and holds me.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
I can’t talk about it. Not yet. I need to feel something other than overwhelming grief, so I lean up and place a questioning kiss on his lips. Eros returns this kiss. I pull him over to the bed and yank him down on top of me.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I don’t want to answer that. I don’t want to make a decision about anything right now.
“Make me feel good,” I say before kissing him again.
He takes over the kiss, running his hands down my side while lying over me.
“How good, sweetheart?”
“Eros, please,” I whine.
He stops for a moment, and stares into my eyes, clearly looking for the game or the angle I have. But instead, I think he can see how I am begging to turn my brain off and feel.
Eros begins to run his hands down my body, tracing every inch of skin with his fingertips. I shiver with anticipation, feeling my body come alive under his touch. He sips his hands beneath my shirt, his palms warm against my skin. His touch is fire, igniting a passion within.
He kisses me deeply, exploring my mouth with his tongue, and I moan softly. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close, needing to feel his body against mine.
