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“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I said you weren’t welcome,” Perseus practically yells as he stalks toward me.
“Down boy.” I stand to face him, my sky-high stilettos putting me at almost his eye level. “I was invited.”
“By who?”
“It wasn’t me, but I am kind of wishing it was,” the one with the serial killer glare and tattoos says, while undressing me with his eyes.
It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling. I shoot him a quick playful wink and love the thrill it gives me when Perseus moves to stand in between us, his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenching hard enough I can almost hear his teeth crack.
“Who’re your hot friends?” I ask, blinking innocently up at him.
The muscles in his jaw tick. Making him angry is so easy and so much fun.
“The one looking like he wants to snap you in half, and not in the fun way, is Heph,” the serial killer says. “The one tapping away on his computer is Paris, and I’m Eros. Now, who are you? Are you lost, pretty little thing?”
“I’m Athena,” I answer. Before I can say more, Eros is shoved back and Perseus is in between us again, his fists clenching at his sides like he is aching to take a swing at something.
“Who invited you here?” he snarls.
“The lawyer, my mother,” I slow down and over enunciate every syllable of mother, “hired for her estate.”
“This is the girl who says she is—” the man, I think it is Paris, says.
“I am Freya’s daughter. Would you like to see my birth certificate? Or perhaps my baby pictures where I am in her arms? But I think by looking at me, you all know I’m flesh and blood.” Like mother like daughter.
“This is my home. I may not have been her blood, but I was the son she chose. You are the daughter she abandoned.”
His words cut into me deeper than I will ever show.
“No, I am the daughter whose father kept her away. You are nothing more than the street rat she cared for in some attempt to fill the void that was left from losing her actual children. Not just me, but her actual sons Apollo, Ares, and Phoenix.” We stand practically nose to nose, glaring at each other, the tension in the room palatable.
“Get the fuck out of my house.” His words hold promises of violence, but he has no idea who he is fucking with. I might look like my mother, but I am my father’s daughter, and he will bend to my will, not the other way around.
“Is that the best you have?” I ask. “Your usage of vocabulary is limited. Good thing you’re pretty.”
“Out. Now.”
“Make me.” The words fly from my lips barely more than a whisper, but I know he heard me. I’m clutching at the taser I have tucked in my purse, waiting for him to lay his fucking hands on me, practically begging him to do something. “That’s what I thought. I’m not going anywhere.”
The library door opens, and someone clears their throat.
“Good. You two have met.” The speaker has a deep, masculine voice.
Perseus and I each step back from each other.
“Something like that,” I mumble under my breath.
“Ms. Godwin”—the man reaches out his hand for me to shake—“I’m Mr. Carion, your mother’s lawyer. This case is a bit… unusual, so let’s get started.”
Perseus and I make a move for the same arm chair, but I drop my purse into it before he can sit. It opens just enough that he can see the taser. He gives me a look, then moves to sit on the couch with the other mouthwatering misfits.
Paris’s tablet flips into a laptop, and he is sitting on the couch typing way. Eros is sitting on the floor by the couch spinning a knife, eying me like he wants to eat me for lunch, and Heph is staring at me like I kicked his dog, which if I consider how close he is sitting to Perseus, maybe I did. Maybe I’m going to do it again, and that arrogant prick realizes who the fuck he is dealing with.
Chapter
Four
Athena
“Right, so the assets are to be divided as follows.” The lawyer removes papers from his briefcase and settles back into his chair to read. “I, Freya Godwin, being of sound mind and body, have divided my assets between two, and only two, of my children. To my son, Perseus—”
Perseus sneers at me as the lawyer continues to read.
“—I leave the sum of fifteen million dollars.”
His face drops.
“And what else?” Perseus demands.
“That’s it. Please let me continue.” The lawyer clears his throat. “To my daughter, Athena, I leave this house, my worldly possessions, and what is left in my bank account after settling whatever end-of-life costs I have accrued.”
“No. She doesn’t get my home.” Perseus stands and paces the room. “That spoiled bitch doesn’t get a single fucking cent, let alone my home.”
