Persephone turned to face him. She’d never met anyone who was so oblivious to their own wrong-doing.
“I am capable of making my own decisions, Adonis. I thought you would remember that after you stole my article,” she snapped. “But just so we’re clear, I don’t want to talk to you because you are a manipulator, you never take responsibility for your mistakes, and you kissed me when I specifically told you not to, which makes you a predator.”
There was a heavy pause as Persephone’s words hit home. It took Adonis a moment, but he finally seemed to understand what she was saying and then he called her a bitch.
“Adonis,” Demetri’s voice cut through their conversation like a whip. Persephone was stunned, and she turned to see her boss standing outside his office. She had never thought him capable of the anger she saw on his face. “A moment.”
Adonis looked stricken, and he glared at Persephone as if she were to blame.
When the mortal disappeared into Demetri’s office, her boss gave her an apologetic look before entering and closing the door. Ten minutes later, a security officer arrived on the floor and walked into Demetri’s office. After a moment, the officer, Demetri, and Adonis emerged. Adonis was flanked by the two and as he passed her desk, he was rigid, his hands fisted. He muttered under his breath, “This is ridiculous. She is a snitch.”
“You told on yourself,” Demetri said.
They disappeared in the direction of his desk, and reappeared later, leading Adonis to the elevator with a box in hand.
When Demetri returned, he approached Persephone’s desk. “You have a moment?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, and followed him into his office.
Once inside, she took a seat, and Demetri did the same.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
She explained—only the part where Adonis stole her article and submitted it without her knowledge because that was the only part that really counted at work.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Persephone shrugged. “I wanted to submit it anyway. It just happened faster than I anticipated.”
Demetri grimaced. “In the future, I want you to come to me when you feel wronged, Persephone. Your satisfaction in this job is important to me.”
“I...appreciate that.”
“And I will understand if you want to cease writing articles about Hades.”
She stared at him, surprised. “You would? But why?”
“I won’t pretend that I’m not aware of the frustration and stress it has caused you,” he said, and she had to admit, she was a little surprised he had noticed. “You became famous overnight and you’re not even finished with college yet.”
She let her eyes fall to her hands, twisting her fingers nervously.
“But what about the readership?”
Demetri shrugged. “That’s the thing about news. There’s always something new.”
Persephone managed a small laugh and considered things. If she stopped writing now, she didn’t feel she would have done Hades’ story justice. She’d started out with such a harsh critique of him, and, maybe selfishly, she wanted to explore other facets of his character. She realized she didn’t have to write an article to do that, but a part of her wanted to show Hades in the light. She wanted others to see him as she had come to—as kind and caring.
“No,” she told Demetri. “It’s okay. I want to continue with the series…for now.”
Demetri smiled, but said, “Alright, but if you wish to end it, I want you to let me know.”
She agreed and went back to her desk.
When she finished with her work, she headed to campus. During class, she found it harder to concentrate. Her sleepless night was catching up to her, and though she took notes, at the end of class, when she tried to read what she had written, it was just scribbles.
She really needed some rest.
A tap on the shoulder made her jump. She turned and looked into the face of a girl with small, fairy-like features and a dust of pretty freckles. Her eyes were large and round.