Chapter II
Roman
I marched out of Demi’s office. She was the most infuriating woman I had ever met.
I had no idea what I had ever done to her, but from our first meeting when she was seventeen and I was eighteen, she seemed to have a personal vendetta against me.
Funny to think there was a time I’d wanted nothing more than to meet her.
You know what they say: Don’t meet your heroes—or your crushes.
You’re just setting yourself up for disappointment.
And Demi was one of the biggest disappointments of my life.
All her loyal employees glared at me as if I were their subordinate, from behind desks made of gold—because of course they were.
Subtlety had never been a Greek virtue. Most Greeks thought they were better than the Romans.
And after divorcing one of their own, I was persona non grata.
Never mind that it was Carmen who had asked for the divorce, and that we had remained friends.
And I had a daughter who was half Greek.
“Roman. Just the man I was looking for.”
I turned—and there he was. Eros. A second father in all but blood. I blinked, still adjusting to the silver hair. It strangely suited him. If anything, it made him look more regal and distinguished. But he hadn’t aged. He’d changed it for Demi.
I think she found it jarring to have a father who didn’t look the part. And ever since he’d brought her into our world, he seemed willing to do anything for her.
“Hello, Eros.” I embraced him, still seething.
“Your heart rages.” Eros never missed a thing. “I take it you’ve spoken with Demi.”
“Yes,” I gritted out.
Eros offered me a pressed-lip smile. “Why don’t we meet in the conference room?”
I nodded and followed him, aware of every pair of eyes tracking my steps.
No doubt a few of them would sprint straight to Demi, eager to report who I was meeting with.
The loyalty she’d amassed was baffling. Especially considering her half-sister, Hedone, had practically run a divine day care.
No schedules. No accountability. Half the staff didn’t even show up when she was in charge.
But at least under her, all the love matches on my show were approved.
Demi, on the other hand. She ran a tight ship—armed with her guidebook, her rules, and a dizzying array of committees.
A relationship review board.
A breakup forecast committee.
A background check department.
And then there were the Emergency Love Violation agents. They were ruthless, to say the least. They’d break up any pair daring to defy the Bureau’s decisions on romance.
I pitied anyone who fell in love without permission.
Why Eros had ever given Demi control, I couldn’t fathom. She obviously had no understanding of love. And for her to think that I cheapened it and sold it was an insult. Did she really believe that I had zero clue about the intricacies of relationships or that I couldn’t spot a genuine love match?
Just because my family was bound by certain limitations, as in we needed to physically touch someone to know their heart and we did the grunt work and shot the arrow, so to say, it didn’t mean we weren’t just as invested in the work of love.
I’ll tell you this: We sure as hell didn’t believe love was based on rules.
Maybe if Demi ever stepped outside into the mortal world, she could see that her policies were hurting people.
I trailed Eros into the conference room, which looked more like a star-studded ballroom, complete with a chandelier dripping in diamonds.
“Please have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?” He gestured toward the fully stocked bar tucked into the corner.
“I’m good, thanks.”
I collapsed into one of the chairs—fluffy monstrosities made of Caladrius feathers. Over the top, sure, but I couldn’t claim my father’s tastes were any less absurd. Even I had a penchant for the finer things.
All gods had a thing for luxury. And restraint was never on our menu.
Except for Demi; she was the exception to everything in our world.
That wasn’t me complimenting her. In fact, it was annoying, like she thought she was better than the rest of us.
Even though she dressed like she was trying out for the part of a circus tent that housed serial killers.
And what was up with the big tinted glasses she wore?
And it was a crime that her once-glorious red mane was duller than dirt now.
Eros sank into the seat beside me, eyes trained on me with that careful, unshakable calm. His jade gaze—reminiscent of the aurora borealis and identical to Demi’s, not that anyone would ever make the connection—held the kind of wisdom that had seen centuries unravel.
Looking into Eros’s eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder: why in the hell would Demi ever hide those swirling, mesmerizing eyes of hers?
It was probably for the best.
It might remind me of the girl I once had dreams of falling in love with.
The girl who had captured the attention of the nation as a world-class gymnast. There was just something about her that made people happy.
Every interview, every news piece about her, was nothing short of magic.
From the way she smiled to the way she cheered on her teammates, she stole hearts. Mine included.
I used to watch her on TV and tell my mom that one day I was going to ask her out on a date. When I found out she was the daughter of my godfather, I felt as if the Fates had heard me. I couldn’t wait to meet her.
But the first year she came to live with her father, she vanished.
She locked herself away, mourning her mother and the death of her Olympic dreams after a car crash that belonged in a tragedy penned by Sophocles.
And when she emerged, she was nothing like the girl I had a poster of in my room.
She was cold and biting, and I was more than confused, and I resented her for not being the girl on TV.
Sure, it was immature of me. She was dealing with not only a tragedy, but a Greek tragedy.
The bitter feeling was obviously mutual, though I had no idea what I’d done to deserve her wrath.
Every time I saw her, it felt like she’d taken something from me. Something I couldn’t name, only ache for. The resentment eventually turned to hate. A hate like I had never experienced before. It was irrational, and even undeserved, but I couldn’t shake it.
And now she was stealing my show.
“Roman.” Eros patted my knee. “What troubles you?” It was as if he could read my thoughts. Perhaps he could. Gods didn’t like to advertise all their gifts. And it was well known that he could read hearts, even from a distance.
I shook my head, clearing my mind of Demi. “My show is on the verge of being canceled.”
“Yes, I know, but that is not all that troubles you.” He grinned.
“I’m learning to navigate single parenting.
” I tried to sidestep, hoping he couldn’t detect my feelings about his daughter.
Not that he didn’t know about our mutual dislike for each other, but I don’t think he knew how deep it ran.
It was unfair to blame Demi for the void inside me. Irrational, even.
“For that I am sorry, but I did warn you that your union with Carmen would not last.”
“You did,” I mumbled. Angry with myself.
I knew too, but I refused to heed the signs.
I’d hoped she would fill the ache. And for a while she’d soothed it.
But Carmen came to me last year out of the blue and said we weren’t meant to be.
There was no talking her out of it. Despite the hurt, I would never regret it.
Not when our union gave me Junie. I loved our daughter.
And Carmen and I were still friends and good coparents.
“Well.” Eros clapped his hands together. “You will be happy to know that I called in a few favors, and your show is safe. In fact, you’re getting an extra season. A special summer edition.”
My brow shot up. “I don’t understand. An extra season? It’s impossible. Summer is a month away. It takes time to find cast members and locations. And don’t even get me going on the permits.” These things took months.
Eros laughed. “Roman, how long have you lived among the gods? The impossible is our signature move. The location, permits, and even the cast members will all be taken care of,” he said as if they already were.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing this wasn’t just some benevolent gift. “Why? And what is it going to cost me?” Whenever a god granted a miracle such as this, there was always a cost. Always.
Eros smiled, but it wasn’t comforting. It was the kind of smile that held secrets. “Can’t a godfather do something nice for his godson?”
“You can and you have, but you’ve never intervened like this before.
” Not even my father had done anything this grand for me.
Not that I would ask him to. I’d done my best to make a name for myself.
Sure, I realized I possessed abilities above those of a mortal, but I’d worked hard to get where I was.
Eros stood, pacing the marble floor, his Medusa snake leather shoes clicking and clacking, carefully measuring his words. “Gods sometimes make mistakes, Roman. And you’re going to help me correct mine.”
I didn’t like the sound of this. “What mistake, and how am I supposed to help you?”
Eros stopped pacing, the mischievous side he was known for shining in his eyes. “As for my mistake, that is for me alone to know. But you’re going to help me correct it by casting Demi in your special season.”
I bent over laughing. A deep, guttural laugh of disbelief. This had to be a joke. “No way in hell will that ever happen.”
“I assure you it will,” he said with clipped precision.
My head snapped up. The air shifted as if someone had opened up a prophecy that was supposed to have remained hidden.
“No,” I stated. “Absolutely not.” I held my ground.
She would be the worst cast member in the history of the show.
In the history of any reality show. Besides, she was the antithesis of love.
Ironic, really, for a goddess of that very thing.
Eros gripped the chair closest to him. “You don’t understand. Our big guy has gotten involved.”
The Romans’ big guy was Jupiter, my great-grandfather. “You mean Zeus?” I swallowed hard. Zeus was, in my opinion, more unhinged than my great-grandfather. “Why?”
“Demi is his great-granddaughter, and let’s just say he has taken a special interest in her, and we will leave it at that.”
I jumped up. While I feared ticking off their “big guy,” I wasn’t just going to let this go. “Why my show? Just send her to a spa or a therapist.” Her wardrobe and her asinine guidebook for love screamed that she needed help. “While you’re at it, maybe a makeover wouldn’t hurt.”
Eros’s eyes flashed with a warning that I’d crossed a line.
I properly flinched, knowing it was a prick thing to say, and he immediately softened.
“Roman,” Eros sighed. “This is not about making over Demi. She doesn’t need to be made over. She needs to rediscover herself. I should have never—” He stopped himself short.
“Never what?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that my daughter finds herself again.”
“And you think television—a live reality show, no less—is the place for her to do it? Does she even want to fall in love?”
Eros nodded slowly. “I believe she does more than anything, but she’s forgotten that she could or is afraid she can’t. I think that possibility terrifies her.”
She was terrifying, all right.
“Do you know what kind of exposure this means for her?” Not sure why I felt the need to protect her.
She’d done everything in her power to sabotage me and my show.
But I had a conscience. “You have to know there are media outlets all over the world salivating at the chance to interview the elusive Demi Blake. Everyone wants to know where she disappeared to after the accident. Her tragic story is going to play everywhere if she goes on Love Unscripted.”
Granted, the show’s marketing team would throw a party at the chance to feature someone with her backstory. It was advertising gold. Our audience lived for heartbreak. And the heartbreak of someone once famous and beloved was even better.
“I know,” Eros breathed out, clearly uncomfortable with it. “So, I’m trusting you to protect her as much as you can.”
I buried my face in my hands. I was a producer and host, not some damn goddess bodyguard. “This can’t be happening. Does Demi even know? How did she ever consent to this?”
“She doesn’t know yet. But she will agree to do this.”
I lowered my hands with a flicker of hope. No way was Demi agreeing to this. “You don’t know your daughter very well.”
“Neither do you,” Eros bit back. It wasn’t like him. Normally he treated me warmly, like a son. So his tone took me aback. Whatever he was trying to correct must have been monumental. But why did I have to be a part of it?
“I could just let my show get canceled.” Saying it out loud felt like a punch in the gut, but it was better than letting Demi be part of it. She’d probably sabotage it and it would get canceled anyway.
“You could. But do you really want to tick off my grandfather?”
I cleared my throat. “It’s not on my bucket list.” Although I could appeal to Jupiter. He was fond of me, and he loved any chance to go up against Zeus.
Eros’s expression softened. “Roman, if you do this, I promise you will have more than one match this season, and . . . you will find what you’ve been looking for.”
Why didn’t it surprise me that he knew of the void inside me? “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.” I sounded more like a lost boy than a man. But the possibility of filling the void that was ever present in my life intrigued me. Especially since I shouldn’t have any voids.
I had a successful career. A beautiful daughter.
I’d even found love a time or two. Yet I felt as if I were part of a Roman tragedy.
The tragedy being that even though I had what anyone would consider a perfect life, I felt lost, as if I’d followed the wrong path somehow.
Or more like someone had placed me on the wrong path.
“Then it’s a good thing I do.” With that, he strode out, leaving me dumbfounded.
I fell back in my chair feeling like I’d just been given a quest without knowing the destination.
How did he know what I was missing?
More importantly . . . how was having Demi on my show going to help me find it?