A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone 2)

“We need to talk,” he said.

His scent hit her hard, his presence harder. He was an executive of death, well dressed, handsome, and brooding.

“No.”

“So you believe it then? The article?”

“I thought you had a meeting,” she said.

“I did,” he said.

“And you conveniently left out the fact that it was with Leuce?”

“It wasn’t with Leuce, Persephone.”

“I don’t want to hear this right now. You need to leave,” she said, and stepped out from behind her desk. She started toward the elevator—she would escort him.

“When are we going to talk about this?” he asked.

“What is there to talk about? I have asked you to be honest with me about when you are with Leuce. You weren’t.”

She pressed the button to summon elevator.

“I came to you immediately after I saw Leuce home,” he said. “But I didn’t feel good about waking you. When I saw you yesterday, you looked exhausted.”

She twisted toward him, her eyes glistening. “I am exhausted, Hades. I’m tired of you and sick of your excuses,” she pointed to the elevator doors as they opened. “Leave.”

Hades glared at her, and without warning, snatched her about the waist and shoved her in the elevator. His magic flare, and she knew he was keeping anyone from entering or using the lift.

“Let me go, Hades!” she wiggled against him, and he pressed her harder into the wall. “You’re embarrassing me. Why did you have to do this now?”

“Because I knew you’d jump to conclusions.”

She glared up at him, but his expression was just as fierce.

“I’m not fucking Leuce.”

“There are other ways to cheat, Hades!” she pushed against his chest, but the god didn’t move. He was solid rock, an immovable, frustrating mountain.

“I’m not doing any of them!”

She stared at his chest and tried not to cry.

“Persephone,” Hades said her name and she closed her eyes against the desperation in his voice. “Persephone, please.”

“Let me go, Hades.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“If you won’t listen now, will you let me explain later?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Please, Persephone. Give me the chance to explain.”

“I’ll let you know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Persephone,” he reached to brush her cheek, and she retreated from his touch, still not looking at him, which meant she didn’t see the expression on his face before he vanished.