“And that is?”
“I, too, wish to tell the world how I fell in love with you.”
He kissed her slowly at first, his tongue sweeping sweetly over hers, and then deepened the kiss.
They spiraled and lost themselves in the heat of one another again.
***
Lexa’s funeral was scheduled three days after her death.
Persephone hadn’t been able to visit Lexa in Elysium since the day she arrived in the Underworld, so seeing her body, anointed and pale, adorned with a wreath and coins, brought her to tears.
Hades attended and kept a protective arm around her.
She could feel the emotions in the room—curiosity and anger and sadness. These mortals obviously wondered why Hades had let Lexa die, wondered how Persephone could stand beside him. Once, she had wondered the same thing, and now that thought brought her immense pain.
Hades looked down at her, touching her cheek.
“You could never make them understand,” he said, guessing her thoughts.
She frowned. “I do not want them to think poorly of you.”
He offered her a small, sad smile. “I hate that it bothers you. Does it help if I tell you the only opinion I value is yours?”
“No.”
After Lexa’s funeral, they spent the next few days cleaning out her room and packing items into boxes for her parents to store. It was a strange day, and left Sybil, Zofie, and Persephone feeling unsettled in their own apartment.
“I think we should move,” Sybil said.
“Yes,” Zofie said. “This home it...smells of death.”
The two looked at the Amazon.
“Persephone?” Sybil said. “What do you think?”
She opened her mouth, and then closed it.
“I’m...engaged,” she blurted.
Sybil and Zofie shrieked in excitement, and Persephone laughed.
Over the weekend, Persephone recruited Leuce to help with her new business. They met at The Coffee House and worked together over vanilla lattes.
“I’ve called every news outlet on your list,” Leuce said. “They’ve all agreed to run your story. The Divine said it would be front page news.”
“Excellent,” Persephone smiled.
She’d asked Leuce to cold call several newspapers and magazines to announce her new business venture—and her engagement to Hades. It was a strategic move that would automatically guarantee she had a readership for her blog where she would share the story of how she met and fell in love with the God of the Dead.
It would also enrage he mother. Persephone new Demeter paid attention to the news from all the instances she’d scolded her for writing about gods.
“Several have requested reviews,” Leuce continued. “I said you wouldn’t be available for them for another two weeks. I’ve put them in a spreadsheet. It took me forever—how do you use this…keyboard…so easily?”
Persephone laughed. “You’ll learn, Leuce.”
Sybil joined them later. Persephone had tasked her with creating a website that communicated simplicity and power and the results were stunning. The Advocate was scrawled across the top of the page in a rich shade of purple. Sybil also showed her a timeline for how the website would evolve as they added content—pages for health of all kinds and arts and culture.
Seeing the site fueled Persephone’s excitement. Now all she had to do was focus on her welcome article.
It was strange to revisit the start of her relationship with Hades because her mindset had been so different then. She’d been insecure and suspicious, and yet, she’d wanted adventure. Little did she know her yearning would lead to an inescapable contract with the God of the Dead—a bargain that became love.
He helped me understand that power comes from confidence, from belief in your own worth. To him, I am a goddess.
She felt those words deep in her soul.
***
On Monday morning Persephone sat between Leuce and Sybil at The Coffee House as she pressed publish on her article. She smiled when she read the bold lettering on the landing page of her website:
My Journey toward Loving the God of the Dead.
The two squealed and hugged Persephone.
“This is just the beginning,” she said. She felt proud, she felt empowered, and she felt free.
Persephone left Leuce with a to-do list while she and Sybil gathered their things and headed to their respective workplaces. For Persephone, it was the most excited she’d been in a long time to return to the Acropolis because she would never be going there again.
“Good morning, Helen!”
The young woman seemed surprised and stammered. “Good morning, Persephone!”
The goddess walked straight into Demetri’s office. He looked up at her, his tablet glared off his glasses, obscuring his expression.
For a moment, neither spoke.
“You quit.”
“I quit.”
They spoke at the same time.
Demetri smiled, and that alarmed her.
“Can’t say that I am surprised. I saw your announcement. You recruited every single news outlet,” he said and sat back in his chair. He seemed sincere when he said, “Congrats.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
“The Advocate,” he said. “Fitting. Will you continue to write about gods?”
She lifted her chin. She knew what he wanted to ask: Will you write about me?
“If it’s an injustice, I will expose it,” she said.
He nodded. “Then I wish you all the best.”
She didn’t but it didn’t matter. She had promised she would dismantle Kal and unravel Demetri and gods were bound to keep promises.
Persephone left Demetri’s office and walked straight to her desk, emptying everything she’d brought into a box.
“Where are you going?” Helen asked, looking up from the desk as she headed to the elevator.
She smiled at the young blonde. “I quit, Helen.”
“Take me with you.”
Persephone’s eyes widened. “Helen—”
“I’ll work for you for free,” she said. “Please, Persephone. I don’t want to stay without you.”
When the elevator doors, opened, she smiled. “Come on.”
Helen squealed, grabbed her purse, and joined Persephone in the elevator. When they made it to the first floor, Persephone handed the box to Helen.
“Will you wait for me? I have to say goodbye to someone.”
“Oh, sure,” she said.
Persephone headed to the basement in search of Pirithous. She found his office empty. Glancing over his desk, amid stacks of work orders and tools, she spotted a notebook. She recalled the day she’d startled him in his office to ask if he could help her escape again and how protective he’d seemed of the information inside, and yet, it lay open, tiny handwriting was scribbled across the pages.
She might have left it unread had she not spotted her name on the page.
Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she began to read.
Date: 7/2
She wore a white shirt and a black and white striped skirt today. Hair up. The shirt was cut low and I could see the swell of her breasts as she breathed.
Persephone’s blood ran cold.
What the fuck was this?
She turned a page. There was a new description of her outfit for the next day—a pink, fitted dress and white heels. Her legs are shapely. I found myself wanting to lift her skirt, spread her wide and fuck her. She would let me.