Chapter 12
CORDELIA
Ahuge, streamlined jet sat gleaming on the runway—white as a polished pearl, with a deep-blue undercarriage that glinted beneath the lights.
‘Crikey, that’s big.’ I muttered, squinting up at it.
A wicked smile curled on Si’s lips. ‘You like big things.’ I felt a blush spread like a fever from the tips of my toes to my face. Dickface! He’d made me blush. I never blushed! Annoyingly, he wasn’t wrong… especially about that gorgeous—
Stop! my inner asshole berated me. She was right, though—no thinking about cocks.
‘Come.’ He placed a warm hand on my lower back and gently guided me up the steps.
The interior was ridiculous—in the best kind of way. Like a flying mansion. It was every bit as plush as the other jet, but much larger. The magnolia leather seats were arranged in intimate seating clusters, and the dark grey floor covering muffled our footsteps as we made our way inside.
Towards the rear, I caught sight of a bedroom through a pair of open doors. Following Si, my eyes were drawn to his stature; his presence—his deliciously muscular body that showed off his tailored trousers and jacket to perfection. He looked as if he’d just walked out of GQ magazine.
‘There’s a bedroom and full-sized bathroom,’ Si said, gesturing towards the back. ‘Perseus has stored your luggage in there. You can sleep later, and freshen up if you’d like; it’s a long flight.’
He led me to a lavish sofa, which sat opposite two massive recliners with a sleek table between them. Perseus and Ajax remained towards the front, sitting across from each other.
‘Welcome, Mr Thalassa,’ a beautiful flight attendant said as she smiled at Si. ‘Would you like Champagne?’
‘We would,’ Si replied smoothly, barely glancing at her before returning his attention to me.
‘Thank you,’ I said politely, then shot Si a side glare. He didn’t notice—or more likely, ignored it. He simply shrugged off his jacket and handed it to the attendant. Then he rolled up his shirt sleeves.
Sweet. Merciful. Gods.
Those forearms were pure sin. Tanned skin stretched over taut muscle, and his ink—dark, curling lines of it—peeked out just enough to make my mouth go dry. I pulled my greedy eyes away from him.
I couldn’t get involved with a primal, possessive, and extremely arrogant god. Even if he did have the most beautiful cock I’d ever seen. Nope. Not happening.
My bitchy inner voice let out a smug snort. And you can pipe down, too, I snapped at the little fucker.
As we took our seats, I twisted and contorted like a gold-medal gymnast in a game of emotional Twister—carefully avoiding any contact with him. I claimed one of the recliner chairs instead of the sofa, distancing myself with as much subtlety as I could muster.
After take-off, another flight attendant arrived with the champagne and appetisers.
I grabbed a few and surreptitiously stuffed my mouth, trying not to moan aloud at how delicious they were—they were as tasty as one would expect from a fine dining restaurant.
I thanked her for the champagne and took a long sip, grabbing a few more appetisers.
That’s when I noticed it.
The attendant’s eyes sparkled as they lingered on Si—like he was a dish even better than the food. Anger and something weird and uncomfortable rose through my chest. A foreign emotion that I recognised immediately. Jealousy. I was jealous. Freaking perfect.
I resisted the urge to strangle myself to death.
I tried to ignore the heat building behind my ribs and focused instead on the approaching second attendant…
with more food! My heart did a happy little wiggle.
I demolished two Vegetarian moussakas with apple tzatziki, and a heavenly Paris-Brest—a choux pastry ring filled with luxurious hazelnut mousseline.
That, along with two more glasses of champagne, left me full, fuzzy, and borderline euphoric.
I stretched like a well-fed cat, letting out a satisfied sigh.
Si dabbed his mouth with a napkin and looked at me, his eyes twinkling with barely contained amusement.
‘What?’ I raised my eyebrows.
‘You eat with the hunger of a famine-struck village.. and the volume to match,’ he said, his voice low and teasing.
I laughed. ‘And here I thought gods only dined on ambrosia and the occasional human heart?’
His laugh was smoky and delicious. ‘Don’t be absurd. Ambrosia pairs terribly with human hearts.’
Laughter burst out of me, sudden and loud. I laughed until my stomach hurt. A strange, long-forgotten lightness filled me—joy. Actual joy. Si watched me with a small smile playing on his lips, and something unreadable in his eyes.
Once the dishes were cleared and we were sipping coffee, a comfortable silence settled between us. That is, until he shattered it.
‘So,’ he began quietly. ‘Was everything you told me a lie?’ Si cocked his head, and my heart squeezed and dropped. His piercing eyes held my gaze, making me simultaneously feel both exposed and safe.
‘Not everything,’ I said softly. ‘Just the part about the abusive husband.’ I looked down at my cup. ‘The man I described… was my stepfather.’
‘Your stepfather?’ His voice was low, but his eyes—those fathomless blue-green depths—churned like a brewing squall. A tempest of doom. I recognised that look now. Anger—quiet and lethal.
‘Yes.’ I held his gaze. ‘Not sexual abuse… but physical. Psychological. He trained me to be the best assassin in the world… Like my mother was before me. He broke my bones, but never my spirit.’ I lifted my chin defiantly.
A growl rumbled in his chest at my words—low, visceral…
a sound that sent shivers skating across my skin.
So I told him everything.
About my mom—the amazing woman, who died way too young. About Drakos. About the move to England when I was fourteen, the fake school, the shady dealings, and finally, about Guinn.
‘We had a plan,’ I murmured, my voice catching. ‘When she turned sixteen, we were going to leave. Get new identities. Start over somewhere far away… where Drakos couldn’t touch us. I’ve saved enough over the years, but I guess it’s a moot point now.’
I felt his gaze on me—hot, unrelenting. It made me feel peeled open; too raw.
So I lowered my head and picked at the sleeve of my crop hoodie, trying to swallow the ball of emotion in my throat. I felt weak; vulnerable. It angered me to feel so hopeless.
But I hated even more that I needed him to understand.
‘The money,’ I added quietly. ‘It wasn’t just payment… it was meant for that plan. For our escape.’
His silence stretched—heavy, full of pressure, like the sea before a surge.
Then, in a voice low and even, he asked, ‘How much was my life worth?’
I forced myself to meet his eyes. ‘A million,’ I said, barely a whisper. ‘But Drakos probably got ten times that.’
His jaw flexed. The temperature around us seemed to shift. That deep, simmering anger rippled beneath the surface—the kind that could shatter walls if he let it.
But instead, he inhaled slowly and looked away.
‘You said you like animals,’ he murmured, his tone soft but searching. ‘And reading… that you teach self-defence…’
The question hung there—a lifeline thrown into the heavy silence. He was changing the subject, I realised, not because he didn’t care, but because he was fighting not to lose control.
I raised my eyes and gave a small nod. ‘All true. Guinn and I volunteer at an animal shelter when time allows. She’s always wanted a dog.
And yes, I’ve read more books than I can count.
Romance, mostly. Or fantasy romance.’ I hesitated, then smirked just a little.
‘The touch her and die trope is a favourite.’
His brows furrowed slightly. ‘Trope?’
That drew a small laugh from me. ‘Yes. It’s book language for common themes.
“Touch her and die” is like a possessive Alpha male being super protective and jealous over his woman.
’ I gave a half-shrug and licked my too-dry lips.
He watched me intently, and when his gaze dropped to my mouth, his eyes flashed with hunger.
And… I’m pretty sure my ovaries vibrated.
I tried to ignore the flare of liquid heat throbbing low in my belly. Instead, I carried on talking, my words coming out in a messy heap.
‘I’m a black belt in everything… Brazilian jiu-jitsu, Krav Maga, and Master level in most disciplines, including armed combat.’ He just stared at me—like I was some kind of enigma he hadn’t decided whether to protect or devour.
I squirmed. ‘More coffee?’ I squeaked.
He seemed to come out of his trancelike state.
He blinked once and shook his head. Then he leaned forward, mere inches away from me—so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, causing my breath to hitch, and as his fingers grazed my face, an electrical current rippled through me.
‘You belong to me, Little Red,’ he whisper-snarled. His scent wrapped around me… delicious, comforting, and sexy. I needed to get away from his suffocating proximity; it was throwing me for a loop.
I gave him a glacial stare, torn between wanting to scream and punching him in the face. The latter would be a major mistake.
Funny, really. The obsessive alpha male—that kind of possessive devotion always sounded romantic on paper.
But in real life? Possession felt a lot like a cage, and I wasn’t a thing to be coveted and claimed. Not anymore.
I stood with slow precision. ‘I think I’ll go freshen up and sleep, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course.’ His voice was velvet and blades, and I felt his eyes drilling into my back as I walked away, causing delicious shivers to trickle down my spine.
Holy Hades… resisting this man is going to be a painstaking, soul-twisting challenge.
* * *