“It really is.” She spins on a heel and faces the same direction as me. “With things in a bit of upheaval right now, the security is ramped up. Honestly, I’m not sure how you got up here at all. My people are supposed to have the upper floors locked down.”
That explains the elevator “malfunction” and why the guy downstairs was such an asshole. I shrug a single shoulder. “I’m persuasive.”
“More like you’re terrifying.” She laughs, a sound so happy it makes my chest ping in envy. I don’t want what Ares has—the title, the power, the responsibility—but it must be nice to be so comfortable in how she moves through the world, sure that it will bend to her impressive will.
I’m not naive enough to think that everything comes as easily to her as it appears, but I’ve had to fight and claw my way through the last decade of life. People look at me and don’t automatically assume innocence. I’m painted with the same shame my parents were, even if I don’t deserve it.
Not that it matters. I don’t give a fuck what these peacocks think of me.
Not even Ares.
“Your people are specially trained,” I snap. “If they can’t take me, that sounds like ayouproblem.”
“Absolutely.” She agrees so damn easily. “By the way, is Orpheus still bothering you?”
Mention of Apollo’s brother makes me frown. What does Orpheus have to do with anything? It takes several steps for understanding to settle over me. She’s talking about that party where he was being an arrogant little prick, but that was months ago. I’m honestly surprised she remembered at all. “I can handle Orpheus.” He might be bigger than me, but he’s brittle. I could break him without lifting a finger.
“If you’re sure… I know it’s a touchy subject because he’s Apollo’s little brother.”
I snort. I can’t help it. “Apollo has more or less washed his hands of Orpheus.” As much as Apollo can wash his hands of anyone in his family. What it really translates to is that he’s stopped smoothing over Orpheus’s messes and cut off his money. With how their mother babies the spoiled brat, it never would have worked if Apollo wasn’t, well, Apollo. “When he shapes up, he can play prodigal son and get all the attention he’s deprived of right now. He has bigger things to worry about than chasing some woman who doesn’t want him.”
“If that ever changes, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Sure,” I lie. I know better than to trust anyone in this godsforsaken city. When push comes to shove, Ares will look out for herself and her interests before helping someone else. Expecting anything else is like expecting a fish to sprout wings and fly. “I’ll do that.”
“No, you won’t.” Ares smiles. “But the offer still stands. Here we are.” She stops in front of a large dark door with Zeus’s golden nameplate on it. The current Zeus is Ares’s brother. The last one was her father. I’d rather chew off my own arm than deal with either of the men who’ve held the title during my lifetime, but I’m here. It’s too late to go back now.
I do my best not to hold my breath—not with Ares watching—and knock.
Apollo’s the one who opens the door, and I instinctively brace myself for a whole new reason.
I hate looking at Apollo. He’s too fucking perfect, a product of his Swedish father and his Korean model of a mother. Tall, broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed black hair, and kind dark eyes. It’s the latter that always hit me like a blow to the chest.
I should have quit a long time ago.
As his executive assistant, I’ve got my fingers in an information network that spans all of Olympus and beyond. I’m the one who compiles the reports from the various sources, complete with my thoughts, before Apollo gets them. The work is challenging, and I actually enjoy it.
Not that I’ll ever admit as much out loud.
But as much as I like what I do, this attraction is getting to be too much. Better to work in an office job I loathe than to have…feelings…about my boss. Even if the feelings in question are something as simple as lust. It complicates things.
I know what happens to people who get tangled up with the Thirteen.
They die.
I shove the file at him. “You forgot this.” My voice is too sharp, too bitchy. He didn’t ask me to do this, but I’m embarrassed and it’s so much easier to snarl and snap than admit it. “I’m not your errand girl, and now I’m in overtime for the week.”
Apollo raises a single dark brow. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Cassandra. I would have done without.”
Without a doubt. He’s capable on a truly terrifying level and has nearly perfect recall of anything he’s ever read. He would have been fine relaying the contents of the file without having it on hand. He probably only put it together for Zeus’s benefit.
But he was nice to me this morning.
I am afool.
“You’re welcome.” I turn on my heel. “See you tomorrow.”
“Cassandra.”