Chapter 17 ATHENA
ATHENA
The first thing that hit me when I stepped out of the car was the silence.
Thick, heavy, swallowed by towering trees and endless green that pressed against the horizon.
No signs of life. No sounds but the faint whisper of wind.
Ahead loomed a sprawling white mansion—part fortress, part castle.
A monument to power in the middle of nowhere.
Nic led the way, his tall frame cutting through the air like a shadow wrapped in dark grey Armani.
Two neat lines of servants bowed as we passed.
Mostly women, eyes downcast but not blind—their gazes slid hungrily to him, fear and want twisting together.
Not one looked at me without venom simmering beneath their politeness.
I swallowed hard. If it meant freedom, I’d gladly trade places with every one of them.
Nic didn’t slow, just walked past them like they were ghosts, his focus locked on the heavy black doors ahead.
I had to pick up my pace, almost crashing into his back.
He glanced back with a flash of something unreadable, daring me to keep up, then turned again.
At the threshold, an old man in black sunglasses waited.
Nic’s hand slid around my waist. That touch was calm but possessive, and it sent heat blooming under my skin. I tried to push away the shiver his fingers traced, tried to ignore the way my pulse picked up from being so close to him. I looked around instead.
Inside, the mansion was vintage luxury. Old money whispered through the polished wood, the heavy drapes, the crystal chandeliers.
Nic’s voice dipped into conversation with the old man as we moved down the long hallway.
Words floated past me - noise I didn’t care to listen to.
My focus went back to Nic’s hand, pressing against my bare back where my blouse ended.
That touch stayed steady, grounding me. I didn’t want to admit it, but it made me feel safe. How sick is that?
We reached the backyard, and my breath caught cold in my throat.
The pool gleamed like glass beneath the sun, surrounded by rare trees, but it wasn’t the beauty that stopped me—it was the men.
Four of them, sitting around a table near the water, cigars clenched between fingers, laughing like predators at a feast. My gut twisted into a tight knot.
Run.
I wanted to scream at myself to run, but I knew better.
Two steps and I’d be dead. Nic’s grip on my waist tightened, keeping me closer now.
The men stopped their chatter as we approached, eyes sliding over me like I was a prize on display.
Smirks twisted their faces—cruel, hungry, calculating.
The oldest rose, glass in hand. Daylight or not, four bottles of Don Perignon sat on the table—two already empty.
“Our guests of honor have finally arrived.”
Nic guided me to the table, yanking out a chair for me with a silent command. His gaze locked with mine before dropping to the worn wood. I lowered myself into the seat, trying to disappear beneath the weight of those hungry, disgusting stares. Nic sat beside me.
“Would you like a drink, son?” The same voice spoke again.
Son. The word ricocheted in my mind as my eyes flicked between Nic and the man. It took a moment—long enough for the pieces to click into place. The matching sharp angles of their faces, the cold, soulless black eyes, the same hard line of the jaw.
That man was Garett Stone. Nic’s father.
“No,” Nic clipped out. A servant froze mid-pour at his raised palm.
“And the lady?”
“She doesn’t drink.” His tone was steel.
I dared glance up. The man’s gaze met mine, and my stomach turned. Black, soulless eyes. Sharp jawline. The resemblance slammed into me like a bullet.
“Can’t she answer for herself?” Garett asked, lips twisting into a cruel grin. “Or did you steal that right from her, too?”
Nic’s stare was lethal silence. Garett only laughed. Footsteps cut the tension, and Alec slid into the seat beside Nic, grin gone, replaced with something hard.
“You’re late,” Garett snapped.
“You’re late,” Garett said, eyes narrowing as he fixed Alec with a glare full of loathing. The tension between those two men was electric. Alec was about to answer when Nic raised a hand, stopping him.
“Don’t forget, he answers to me- not you, father,” Nic said, voice ice cold. “Can we get straight to the point, or are you going to waste my time like always?”
Alec’s cold mask cracked, revealing a cocky smile. That grin screamed defiance, like he treated this deadly game as a joke. I swear, even with a knife to his throat, Alec would smirk and crack wise.
Alec smirked at that, defiance sparking, while Garett’s face hardened.
The conversation shifted to shipments, territory, and money.
Words that made my skin crawl. I’d grown up in privilege, surrounded by wealth that never needed explaining.
I was shielded from the brutal truth of our family’s empire.
My brother Ace had always been the one dragged into these dark dealings, while I stayed safely in the light.
But here, at this table, I heard words I wished I never knew—drugs, weapons, blood-soaked deals. I couldn’t make sense of why Nic brought me here. Nothing added up.
Then, beneath the table, a rough hand slid around my thigh. The other men were deep in conversation, yet Nic’s focus never left me. His fingers traced my skin with an almost cruel tenderness, igniting a fire beneath the surface.
“Eat, Athena.” His voice was casual, but it was an order.
“I’m not hungry,” I whispered.
“You should eat.”
“I don’t feel comfortable eating,” I finally whispered, barely audible. “Not here. Not with them.”
For a heartbeat, his eyes softened. Then Garett’s venom cut through again.
“Dominic.’’
The name hit like ice water. Dominic, not Nic. My eyes flew to his, but he didn’t deny it, just stared his father down, his hand still on my thigh. Nic nodded once, a cold confirmation that I knew nothing about this man, I thought I did.
Dominic… Nic. The name fit him perfectly—icy, sadistic, unpredictable. Just like him.
“I believe we had a deal,” Garett said, lifting his glass. His gaze flicked to me.
“I made changes as I said,” Dominic answered, voice like frost. “I’m here to arrange the delivery details. I need to know if Alec’s team is handling it, or if your people might finally do something useful.”
“You’re pushing my patience, son,” Garett spat, the word dripping with disgust like venom slicing through the thick air.
“No, you’re exceeding my limits, Garrett, and you’re ruining my fucking mood. I don’t like that.”
They stared each other down across the table, deadly and relentless. Alec watched silently beside Nic, lips pressed together, hands folded in front of his mouth.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m ending this fucking meeting,” Nic said back. Garett looked like he might explode. Garett gritted his teeth, nodding reluctantly.
“When we reach the final phase of the plan, the agreement stands. She stays here.”
I dug my claws into Nic’s hand, breath catching in my throat.
“No,” Dominic snapped, shaking his head fiercely. “She stays with me.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your plan. Drop it, Garett.”.
His father laughed, leaning back with disbelief like it was some kind of joke.
“I understand now.” He nodded at me. “You’re showing weakness over a stupid woman.”
His men chuckled, but Alec shot them icy looks that silenced the space for a heartbeat.
“I don’t show weakness,” Dominic said, voice sharp and sure. My heart sank anyway. I knew he didn’t care about me. But hearing it—so cold and detached—hurt a little. “I’m being rational. The chances of her being found with me are close to zero. Our enemy already suspects you.”
Our enemy. My father.
For a moment, Garett was silent. Displeasure twisted his features as he drained his glass and motioned for a refill. The waitress obeyed and slipped away.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun with her.
” A disgusting voice, low and leering, came from the seat next to Garett.
My stomach dropped. I looked up and met the eyes of a man in his fifties, bald on top, with a bloated face twisted into a vile, perverted grin—directed at me. “I bet she’ll be a good fuck.’’
His eyes lingered on my breasts, lips licking slowly. Disgust twisted in my gut. My head spun, breaths shallow, heart pounding like it might stop. I needed out.
Nic’s hand was bleeding where I’d dug my nails in, begging him with my eyes, but his were empty, cold. Alec wouldn’t meet my gaze. Garrett laughed, cigar smoke curling as he shrugged.
“If my son’s feeling generous enough to share the King’s whore,” he drawled.
“I’ll enjoy that,” the old man added, licking his lips. “I bet she’s tight. I’ll make her scream.”
“I doubt you can make any woman scream, Gregory.” Dominic’s tone was flat and deadly.
The men laughed like it was a joke.
“Is that a challenge, Dom?” Gregory leered.
One tear slid down my cheek.
“Keep your head down, Athena.” Nic’s voice dropped razor sharp to me, eyes pure black holes. His tone froze me, and I obeyed. I prayed, calling my father’s name over and over.
Then a gunshot shattered everything. My body jerked; I squeezed my eyes shut, stifling a scream. Silence fell into the open space.
When I dared look, Gregory was slumped in his chair. A bullet through his skull, blood soaking his suit. Dominic’s gun smoked on the table, his other hand still on my thigh.
“Anyone else want to talk?”
Silence.
“I’d be honored to send him to keep Gregory company in Hell.”
Garrett’s face burned with fury, but he stayed silent. Alec’s smug smile returned, as if the corpse wasn’t there. Dominic tucked the gun away, sipped water like nothing happened, and then he turned to Alec.
“Get Athena out of here.” His gaze stayed locked on Garett. “I have things to clear up.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was up and gone without looking back, followed by Alec. My legs were still shaking, and even though Alec repeatedly tried to calm me down with words, I couldn’t. I got this image inked into my mind for life. I witnessed a murder for God’s Sake.
Today I learned two new things about my captor.
First - his real name is Dominic Stone. Secondly, in addition to being a good liar who knows how to handle knives, he also seems to know how to handle guns.