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"We don't open the shutters of Elysium," Mrs. Graves says. "Security, you understand." I don't understand. I don'tunderstand any of this. But Mrs. Graves just smiles warmly and goes on speaking. "You must be tired. Let's get you into that bath."
She leads me into the bathroom that adjoins the bedroom, which elicits another gasp from me. Black marble countertops, gilded mirrors, and gleaming platinum fixtures give it the feel of a luxury spa. Mrs. Graves turns on the faucet, releasing a rush of water into the large clawfoot tub. She sprinkles in aromatic bath salts that begin to foam and fill the room with the scent of jasmine.
"There now, I'll give you some privacy. There are panels round about in the walls with a range of buttons—push the one that says 'Kitchen' if you need anything, and ask for me. But do take as long as you like. The mistress will be up to see you in an hour or so."
The mistress?
She must mean Hadria, of course.
Hades?
Whatever.
And then Mrs. Graves is gone, closing the door behind her. I hesitate, noticing there's no lock or latch. But the temptation of the bath is too great. I quickly pull off my slip and undergarments, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. Catching my reflection, I'm startled by the heavily-made-up stranger staring back.
This isn't me.
Rummaging in the bathroom cabinet, I find an array of expensive creams and oils. I clean my face thoroughly, removingevery trace of makeup until I feel—and look—like myself again. Sinking into the tub, the hot water envelops me. For the very first time today, I feel the tension start to drain from my body. I take a deep breath and will myself to relax, pushing away thoughts of all that has happened. Right now it's just me, alone with my thoughts in this unexpectedly tranquil moment.
I sink deeper into the soothing water, letting it envelop me as my mind drifts. In the days leading up to the wedding, I wished with all my heart to be saved from this fate. I'd pleaded silently for divine intervention, foranythingthat could prevent me from being trapped in a loveless marriage with a man like Nero Imperioli.
And now, here I am. My wish was granted in the most unexpected way imaginable. I've been rescued from one prison only to be delivered into another, the clutches of this dangerous and enigmatic Hadria. I don't know what she has planned for me…
But I fear this fate may be far worse than the one I just escaped.
If her brother is a man like Nero…
If she really is Hades, the leader of the Styx Syndicate…
If the Styx Syndicate is really as violet and vicious as my father and his poker buddies always said…
I bury my face in my hands, shoulders shaking as I allow myself to weep softly until the bathwater has started to cool, and I feel exposed and vulnerable.
But for now, all I can do is dry my eyes and brace myself.
Hadria said she would come to see me, so I need to collect myself before she arrives. I saw the amused contempt in her eyes whenI asked why she'd saved me. I won't let her make me feel small again.
Taking a few deep, shaky breaths, I step out of the tub and wrap myself in the plush robe that hangs nearby. I move slowly into the bedroom, perching tentatively on the edge of the massive bed.
And I wait for Hadria to appear.
CHAPTER 6
Hadria
The day weighs heavilyon me as I sit alone in what the Syndicate has come to call the "war room," brooding over the day's events. I'm a little tired. I'm not used to operating in the daylight hours, and I'll have to be awake all night as usual, too, to ensure Nero doesn't try something even dumber than I already expect from him.
I'm slumped in the large, ornate chair that stands on a dais in front of the large table where we lay our plans—inevitably dubbed "Hadria's throne"—and I rub my nose to try to get rid of that feminine scent clinging to Aurora's hair. I got a big whiff of it when her mane blew into my face as we left the car.
It was nice.
But Elysium isn't a place fornicethings.
Lyssa saunters into the war room, her usual smug grin in place. "Well, well, look who's got the world at her feet," she chirps, throwing herself into her own chair near the head of the table and looking up at me. "Ah, the faces of Nero and all his goons when we pulled that little stunt. Pure poetry."
She makes a chef's kiss as I fix her with an icy glare, unamused by her jubilant mood. "Save your glee until we've got what we want."
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "What's eating you, Boss? We threw down the challenge today.Andthere are a few less of Nero's men to trouble us now."
