“Yes, Hades.”
“More at the other entrances.”
He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he looks like he wants to. “We went over the entire plan earlier. I’ve followed it to your specifications. We’re all good. No one will end up where you don’t want them.”
It doesn’t feel like enough, but it will have to do. “Good.”
We make our way down to the door I showed Persephone yesterday. It’s so glossy, it’s almost a mirror as we approach, and the reflection of me in my suit and her in that outfit… Persephone is a pretty present—a pretty captive—and I’m the scary fucker who will cut down anyone who tries to take her from me.
I give myself a mental shake. No use thinking like that. She might be mine for the duration, but she’s not really mine. She’s not for keeping. I can’t afford to forget that, not even for a second.
Charon takes up position next to the door. I adjust Persephone’s hand against the bend in my arm. “We’re about to have an audience. It’ll be real this time.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
She’s not, but that’s part of what tonight is about. Easing her into it. Staking my claim, yes, but doing so in a way that doesn’t throw her into the deep end to drown. “I’m your anchor. Remember that.”
Her lips quirk like she wants to make a smart-ass response, but she finally nods. “I can be obedient.”
I laugh. Fuck, that’s four times in a twenty-four-hour period. I ignore the surprised look Charon sends me and nod at the door. “Let’s go.”
Walking into the room is always a bit like walking into another world, but tonight the effect is more pronounced. The lights are all lowered, making the room appear larger than it really is. Persephone nailed it on the head yesterday; it really is the antithesis to Zeus’s banquet hall. The silvery light cast onto the ceiling by the water gives the impression that we’re somewhere below the surface of the world. A true Underworld fantasy.
The lights aren’t fully lighting up the dais yet. That will be the signal that the show is about to begin. Right now, people are mingling on the couches and chairs. Some chatting, some already getting their own little parties started. The rules of the upper city don’t apply here, and the people invited to cross the river tend to throw themselves into pleasure with a reckless abandon.
I slow down, giving Persephone time to acclimate to the lower lighting. Giving our guests time to see us, to realize that things are finally getting started. Eyes turn our way, and a low murmur surges through the room when they realize who’s on my arm.
I guide Persephone to the dark throne situated against the wall in the center of the room. It’s dramatic as fuck and absolutely ridiculous, but it serves its purpose. A king is only king if everyone around him acknowledges it. I might never set foot in the upper city again, but it advances my interests to remind every single person in this room who rules here.
I have a reputation to uphold, after all.
I sink into the chair and pull Persephone down to sit on my lap. She’s so rigid, I might as well have a statue perched on my thighs. I raise a brow. “You’re going to be sore if you don’t relax.”
“Everyone is staring,” she says out of the corner of her mouth.
“That’s the point.”
She looks at her clasped hands, her jaw tight. “I know that’s the point, but knowing it and experiencing it are two very different things.”
This right here is why I changed my initial plans for the night. She’s too fucking fearless—she rushes forward even when her mind and body are screaming at her to slow down. I sink back farther into the chair, taking her with me. At first, she resists, but when I give her a significant look, she allows me to arrange her so that she’s leaning against my chest. “The show’s starting soon.” And then she’ll be too distracted to worry about everyone else in the room.
“What show?”
I allow myself a smile and loosely wrap an arm around her waist. Throughout the room, the lights dim the tiniest amount, and the ones aimed at the center dais brighten a little. “Do you remember being on display?”
“Of course. It happened yesterday.”
I settle her more firmly on my lap. Another night, it would serve my interests to keep her off-center, but I want her at ease. “You won’t be up there tonight.”
I don’t miss the way her muscles subtly loosen. I know the idea of being watched turns her on, but she’s also new to this. Being thrust into the center would be too much, too soon, and I can’t deny that I very much want her to enjoy this time with me. “I won’t?”