“And I would have recognition for my Divinity and not my work.”
“What’s so wrong about that?” she asked. “You might be known for your Divinity initially, but it could lead to being known for your work.”
Persephone couldn’t explain why it was important for her to be known for writing, it just was. She’d spent her whole life being horrible at the one thing she was born to be, and despite that not being her fault, she’d worked really hard in college. She wanted someone to see that hard work, and not just because she wrote about and dated Hades.
“If I were you, I’d leave this life without a second thought,” Lexa said.
Persephone blanched, surprised. “It’s way more complicated than that, Lex.”
“What’s so complicated about immortality and wealth and power?”
Everything, Persephone wanted to say. Instead, she asked, “Is it really so wrong to want to live an unassuming, mortal life?”
“No, except that you also want to date Hades,” Lexa pointed out.
“I can have both,” she argued. She’d had both until a few days ago.
“That’s when Hades was your secret,” Lexa said.
And even though she and Hades had neither confirmed nor denied media speculation, she was going to have to reveal her relationship if she wanted to keep her job.
Persephone frowned.
“Hey,” Lexa said, pouring more wine into Persephone’s glass. “Don’t worry about it too much. Pretty soon they’ll become obsessed with some other god and some other mortal. Maybe Sybil will decide she actually loves Apollo.”
Persephone wasn’t so sure about that. The last time they’d talked about it, Sybil had expressed that she wasn’t interested in a relationship with the God of Music.
“I’m going to shower,” Persephone said.
The thought of scalding hot water sounded better and better. She didn’t want to feel this day on her skin any longer, not to mention, she still felt like she was surrounded by trash.
“When you’re finished, we’ll watch a movie,” Sybil said.
Persephone took her wine and purse into the bedroom. Dropping her bag on the bed, she moved into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water heated, she sipped on her wine before setting the glass aside so she could unzip her dress.
She paused when she felt Hades’ magic surround her. It was a distinct feeling—a tinge of winter on the air. She closed her eyes and prepared to vanish. It wouldn’t be the first time Hades had taken her to the Underworld without any notice, but instead, a hand touched beneath her chin and lips closed over hers. He kissed her like they hadn’t made love into the early hours of the morning, and when he pulled away, Persephone was breathless, the stress of her day forgotten.
Hades palm was warm against her cheek, and he brushed her lips with his thumb, dark eyes searching.
“Troubled, darling?”
She narrowed her gaze, suspicious.
“You followed me today, didn’t you?”
Hades didn’t even blink. “Why would you think that?”
“You insisted Antoni take me to work this morning, most likely because you already knew what the media was reporting.”
Hades shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“So you let me walk into a mob?”
He raised a knowing brow. “Did you walk into that mob?”
“You were there!” She accused. “I thought we agreed. No invisibility.”
“I wasn’t,” he answered. “Hermes was.”