The blood would match her lipstick.
Aphrodite looks at Eros, who’s still so tense, it’s as if he’s carved from stone. She sighs. “I suppose every child must have a rebellious stage. You’ve simply come to yours late.”
“Don’t.”
She ignores him. “On occasion, it’s a mother’s role to save their children from themselves.” Aphrodite smooths down her dress. “I’ve been cleaning up Eros’s messes since he was a child. This is no different.”
Eros’s messes. As if he decided to wade into the muck of his own free will, rather than being shoved there by the one person in this godsdamned city who should have been protecting him. Now she’ll do it again and pretend she’s doing him a favor, rather than pursuing her own selfish agenda.
Fury unlike any I’ve ever known rages through me. “Aphrodite.” I don’t raise my voice, but I don’t have to. She stops and looks back at me. I don’t make her wait long. “It’s a mistake to ignore your son’s wishes. Attempting to ruin my reputation will splatter his as well.”
“Don’t make threats that you can’t follow through on, little girl. You’re swimming with the big fish now.” Her smile widens. “You should be worrying about more than my son’s reputation. A widower inspires all sorts of sympathy, especially if he was taken in by a little upstart slut.”
A widower.
My mask slips. “But we’re married.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” She looks between us and bursts out laughing. “Oh, you sweet, simple children. Did you really think that farce of a ceremony would be enough to change your fate? It’s barely a speed bump. Enjoy my son while you can, Psyche. This mistake will be rectified soon.” She turns and strides out of the bar, every eye following her.
Fuck.
Eros exhales slowly. “Godsdamn it.” He tenses. “We need to get out of here. Right now.”
I keep my smile in place because we’re back to being the center of everyone’s attention. “We can’t leave yet.”
“Psyche.”
“We are a happy couple.” I speak slowly, still smiling. “Your mother might not approve, but she’s not the one we’re trying to win over.”
“Win over? Who gives a fuck about winning anyone over? She just said—” He takes a breath, and then another. After a small eternity, when I’m sure I’ve lost him, his shoulders relax and he slouches back against the booth next to me. I don’t breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s a close thing. Eros lifts our interlaced fingers to kiss my knuckles. “I’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs against my skin.
Gods help me, but I almost believe it. I thought I felt fear sitting across from Eros in that seedy little bar while he casually threatened me. It’s nothing like I feel now. Aphrodite won’t stop. Maybe I am the sweet, simple child she accused me of being because I am legitimately shocked. I was prepared to step to the line and battle for my reputation.
I didn’t think she’d continue with her plan to kill me.
“The marriage was supposed to change things.”
“I thought it would.” The words are low and tight. “I thought it would be enough to deter her. It doesn’t matter. We’ll find a way forward. You have me now, and I’ll be damned before I let anyone lay a finger on you.”
I want to believe him. I want to so desperately, it makes me shake. Because of that desperation, I force myself to say, “You never told me what you get out of this.” When he just looks at me, I make a vague motion with my free hand. “The wedding, the deception.”
“I would think it’s obvious.” He brushes his lips to my knuckles again. “I get you.”
23
Eros
We have another round of drinks before I pay our tab and take Psyche home. She doesn’t let her public persona slip once, but I can see the strain around the edges. All because of my mother. I knew she would try something eventually, but even I didn’t expect this. She still intends to go through with the original plan. I don’t know if me marrying Psyche was what pushed her too far, but there will be no talking her down from this ledge. She means to throw herself over it and drag us down in the process.
Psyche doesn’t speak until we close the door of the penthouse behind us. “I thought the marriage would work.”
“I did, too.”
“Did you?” She hardly sounds like herself. “Or was this all part of the plan? Threaten me, humiliate my mother by marrying me, and then kill me?”
That stops me short. “You don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Psyche drags her hands through her hair. “But I suppose you’re right. If you intended to become a widower, Aphrodite would have no reason to ambush us.” She glances at me, her expression softening. “Sorry. I’m so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t ask how you’re holding up.”