Chapter 5 ATHENA
ATHENA
“Is everything alright there? If you need anything, you can always tell my men.”
My father’s stern, husky voice rang through the speaker with its usual weight of command. It was his fourth call today. I could hear my mother’s muffled voice in the background, urging him to stop hovering.
“Dad,” I sighed, shifting on the lounger as the sun pressed into my face, “nothing’s changed in the last two hours.”
“I’m just checking in,” he said, almost too calmly. “Even though I’m getting hourly reports from my people.”
I bit my lip, keeping the truth sealed behind a tight smile. His men weren’t here. Ace paid them enough to vanish until the last day of our trip, so they could make it look like we were never alone. But if my father found out…
The stories I’d heard about Maddox King weren’t just stories. He didn’t tolerate betrayal , and disloyalty was met with punishment. Severe punishment.
“Mhm,” I murmured, swallowing the guilt. I hated lying to my father.
“You know I can send the private jet for you. Just say the word.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad, we’ve been here one day.”
“Exactly. Shall I send it?”
“No,” I answered quickly, sitting up. “Please, Dad. Stop.”
He sighed, and I imagined him rubbing his forehead, the worry lines around his eyes deepening. He meant well, but his version of protection often felt like a prison.
“Be careful,” he finally relented, voice tight with concern.
“I will. I love you. I have to go.”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
Click. I tossed the phone onto the table, exhaling sharply.
“Routine check,” I muttered, taking a sip of my martini. Isadora laughed from the lounger beside mine, Seraphina grinning as she flipped over to tan her back.
“You should ignore him like I do my parents,” Seraphina said casually.
I snorted. “Do you know my father? He’d be here in an hour, and the resort would be ashes.”
“I kinda want to see that,” she teased.
“No,” I said flatly. “You don’t.”
They didn’t know the half of what Maddox King was capable of.
“Where are Mason and Ace anyway?” I asked, scanning the beach. The last time I saw them was this morning over breakfast. Mason had been unusually quiet, withdrawn even.
I didn’t mention that I’d spent the night in his room. Or that despite his kisses, my thoughts had been haunted by someone else. Someone with green eyes and a wicked smile.
“They left after breakfast,” Seraphina muttered. “And don’t ask me about Ace. He pissed me off.”
“What’d he do now?”
“Kicked the guys out of our table last night,” Isadora answered with a shrug.
“Classic Ace.” I laughed. That sounded like him.
“And Mason?” Seraphina turned to me. “Where were you last night? He was freaking out, looking for you.”
“In front of the club,” I said too quickly, hiding behind my sunglasses. Technically not a lie, just… not the full truth.
“You’re really in love with him, huh?” Isadora asked, smirking.
“I hope you two make it official,” Seraphina chimed in. “You’re good for him.”
“We can’t. You know why,” I replied, finishing my drink. “He wants more than I can give.”
‘‘My brother doesn’t want sex, dummy. He wants you,” Isadora said, while Seraphina nodded along, fully convinced.
I blinked at them, silent. They were delusional if they believed that. They didn’t know what they were talking about. A man not wanting sex? Especially a man like Mason — young, rich, obscenely good-looking, and with a reputation? I might be a virgin, but even I’m not that kind of naive.
“Plus,” Isadora added, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “there are other ways to satisfy a man.” I scrunched my nose in disgust as she made an unmistakable hand gesture.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.”
They burst out laughing, their attention drifting to the sunbathing boys on the beach, but I stayed behind,stuck in my head.
It had never once crossed my mind to… do that.
To offer anything. I always assumed the whole sex topic between Mason and me was off-limits, locked away under the decision we made to wait.
He never pressured me, never hinted that he expected anything, and I was grateful for that.
But now, their words gnawed at me. Was I selfish? Thoughtless?
Mason had experience. A lot of it. And I… didn’t. What if I tried and failed? What if I looked ridiculous? What if I wasn’t enough?
I shut down the thought before it could spiral, but the guilt stayed like a weight in my chest. Mason deserved more, and I couldn’t give it to him.
“There’s a karaoke night at the bar tonight,” Seraphina’s voice cut through my haze. “How about we go?”
Isadora was already nodding enthusiastically, but my stomach twisted. Midnight.
The voice echoed in my head like a whisper I couldn’t shake.
“Meet me here at midnight.”
How crazy was I that I still heard his voice? That I still wanted to go? Was that cheating? Does wanting someone else, even for a moment, count? God, I was a terrible person.
“I think I’ll pass. Still hungover from last night,” I said quickly, hoping they couldn’t hear the lie caught in my throat.
“Seriously?” Isadora frowned. “You’re going to leave us alone with Mason and Ace?”
“I’ll be waiting here with a bottle of wine when you get back,” I offered with a grin I didn’t feel.
Seraphina smirked. “Deal. We’ll be back by two. Just make sure the wine’s expensive.”
“Nothing less from me.” I nodded, with a smirk.
—
“Are you sure you want to stay here alone?” Mason asked, glancing at me through the mirror as he tugged on a grey t-shirt that hugged every line of his body. “I can stay if you want,” he added, turning to face me, his voice soft, honest.
“You’re spoiling me,” I said lightly, but there was truth behind the tease. Mason always put me first. Always offered more than he took, and part of me hated that, not because it wasn’t sweet, but because he didn’t have to. Not when we weren’t official. Not yet.
He smiled, closing the space between us. “Seriously. We could stay in and watch a movie.”
“Ace will murder you if you ditch him to hang out with your sisters.” I reminded him of my brother’s fragile patience, and he laughed under his breath, sinking onto the edge of the bed beside me. His fingers found mine without asking.
“I forgot about that,” he murmured, gaze locked on our hands. “I wish it was just us.’’
“Tomorrow I’ll steal you away,” I promised, lifting his hand to my lips. I kissed his knuckles gently, memorizing the way his skin felt against mine. These little moments made it easier to pretend he was already mine, completely, fully mine, and no one else’s.
“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Just me and you.”
I smiled. “Okay. Now go before Ace starts grumbling.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips, warm and familiar. “We’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, standing. “Don’t forget the wine.”
“Would I ever disappoint?” I teased.
The last thing I saw was his smile before the door clicked shut behind him.
And then silence. It was a strange kind of quiet, unfamiliar, but oddly welcome.
At least until the panic crept in. The longer I sat in silence, the louder my thoughts became.
Reality settled over me like a second skin, uncomfortable and cold.
This idea, this plan, doesn’t feel clever anymore. It feels dangerous and reckless.
My conscience screams at me that going to see this man tonight is a mistake. A big one. I don’t even know his name. He terrifies me, but worse — he intrigues me.
And what about Mason? In all my twenty years, I never imagined another guy could make me feel something.
Mason has always been it. My first kiss.
My childhood crush. The boy I saved all my firsts for.
Sure, I’ve kissed other guys — two, maybe three, but none of them mattered.
They were just me trying to prove that no one measured up to him.
Mason is the one. I know that.
So why do I feel like I’m cheating on him when we’re not even really together?
Maybe because I know the truth. I know he’s slept with other girls.
I know because I told him it was okay. We made an agreement.
He has needs I can’t meet, not yet. And he was honest about that, and I was okay with it, because I thought I’d always be his first choice, the only girl that mattered. So what does that make me now? A liar?
I push myself up and head to the kitchen, ignoring the heat in my chest, the guilt, the confusion. My hand moves on its own, opening the drawer, pulling out the expensive bottle I stashed earlier. I uncork it, pour a generous glass, and take a long, burning sip.
What the hell am I doing? Risking everything for what? A stranger with a pretty face and a smirk that makes my heart race? No. I won’t do it.
I down the rest of the glass in one breath, like it can erase the thought of this stranger. I don’t want to lie to Mason. I don’t want to see this man. I repeat it like a mantra, hoping if I say it enough, I’ll believe it.
But even in the quiet, even as the wine warms my chest, his voice still whispers in my mind.
“Midnight.”
—
I glanced at the time on my phone — 1:12 a.m.
Still no sign of them coming back.
Ace had just posted a story: a chaotic video of him, Mason, and a few strangers they must’ve met at the bar. I watched on mute, scrolling with glazed eyes. A mistake.
Mason stood in the background with his arm wrapped tightly around a blonde, her mouth brushing against his ear as she whispered something.
He laughed — that laugh — the one that makes my chest tighten.
His smile glowed under the bar lights, and I had to watch it happen in silence.
I watched the clip again and again. Each replay hurt worse.