Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ARES
A s Aphrodite slept, I found a profound joy in watching her peaceful slumber. The gentle rise and fall of her breath a soothing rhythm to my restless soul.
It had been too long since I’d allowed myself such a luxury as sleeping in, but with her beside me, the world outside seemed to fade away. She had a way of making logic feel irrelevant, her presence unraveling the tight grip I kept on my emotions and drawing me into a whirlwind of emotions.
As I watched her, every gentle curve and subtle movement stirred a profound tenderness within me. Despite the storm of desire she stirred within me, I knew I had to stay composed. For her sake, I had to keep my turbulent emotions in check, savoring these quiet moments while she remained blissfully unaware of the effect she had on me.
Slipping on my boxer briefs, I moved over to her desk and opened the top drawer, finding a notepad and pencil inside. I sat against the wall, sketching her as she slept. When my thoughts refused to settle, drawing was my escape.
As I traced her silhouette on the paper, my mind wandered to the ghosts of those I’d killed. It was like sleep paralysis—the demons creeping in, trying to reclaim the lives I’d stolen. The men I’d taken down haunted me, their faces never far from my thoughts.
But with her, it was different. Somehow, she quieted the noise, silenced the demons. I didn’t understand how or why she had that power over me, but I couldn’t deny it.
The drapes were open and dim light from the November sky peeked in. She slept on her back, her bare body exposed. Her long, dark curls cascading against her olive skin.
I was focused on my sketch when I heard her waking up. I looked up and watched as Aphrodite stretched her arms above her head and took a deep breath.
Every day since we met, I tried to drown out the desire that simmered beneath the surface to distract myself from the intense longing I felt for her. But despite my efforts, it was clear I had been ensnared by my own heart.
As she caught me looking at her, her eyes fell on the sketchbook open in front of me. The drawings on the page were unmistakably intimate—every curve and line of her naked body rendered with a raw vulnerability that I could never fully admit to anyone.
My attempts to capture her essence were laid bare, and I could feel the weight of my own unspoken desires pressing down on me.
“Drawing me like one of your French girls?” she murmured sleepily, entangled in the sheets, causing me to bite my lip in anticipation of savoring her again.
“Just sketching this incredibly sexy woman lying right in front of me,” I let out a chuckle, not hiding the fact I had a raging hard on as she laid naked in the bed.
The blood surged to my cock with such intensity that it was a struggle to keep my hand steady on the pencil. Every curve and line I drew made me ache to touch her again.
I yearned for the sensation of her goosebumps beneath my fingertips as they traced up her legs, reaching the curve of her breasts. My mind was consumed by the desire to feel her racing heartbeat as my lips tasted her in a kiss that would devour us both.
Aphrodite rose from the bed with a fluid grace that made my heart race. As she moved closer, her silhouette was a tantalizing blend of softness and allure; she was a vision.
I set the notepad aside, my gaze fixed on her as she approached. She straddled my lap with a confident ease that made my pulse quicken. My hands instinctively roamed to her waist, pulling her gently closer.
I buried my face in the curve of her neck, letting the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelm me. Every kiss I placed along her collarbone was a desperate attempt to savor the fleeting moments we had.
The intimacy of the touch, the scent of her skin, and the way her breath quickened under my lips all made it clear that I was lost in a world of pure, unfiltered desire.
She leaned in closer, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of a tattoo on my chest. The touch was electric, sending shivers across my skin. Her eyes, filled with curiosity and something deeper, settled on the ink.
“What’s this tattoo about?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper as her fingers continued their gentle exploration.
“I remember seeing it when we were on the couch in your office,” she added, her touch lingering, almost as if she was trying to decipher a secret etched into my skin.
“That is my armor,” I whispered. “I was stabbed there, but miraculously, I didn’t die. So, I decided to place my shield and sword there as a symbol of protection.”
“And here?” Her dainty finger trailed down as she followed the lines of the artwork. “Memento mori?” she murmured.
“ Remember you must die ,” I said.
Aphrodite looked back up at me, her lips parting, and said, “Ares, you are riddled with scars. ”
“I belong on a battlefield,” I muttered, trying to mask the ache that crept into my chest. The haze of pain was familiar, but allowing her into my heart introduced a whole new level of risk—one that could cost us both our lives.
For as long as I could remember, I had kept the real me hidden from the world, fortified behind layers of cold indifference and well-practiced control. But with Aphrodite, those defenses started to crumble. She saw through the cracks, glimpsing the parts of me that I’d kept buried, parts I was afraid to even acknowledge myself. Yet, somehow, with her, I found the courage to let those walls down, to open my heart and let her in.
And that was the most terrifying battlefield of all.
We locked eyes, and a serene silence wrapped around us like a cocoon. Her fingers, delicate and warm, traced the line of my cheek with a feather-light touch.
“Your freckles are scattered like constellations,” she murmured, her voice soft and affectionate. “I love them.”
I couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading across my cheeks. “Look at you, trying to be romantic,” I teased, feeling an unexpected tenderness despite the ever-present shadow of my lingering darkness.
Our lips met in a kiss that was both tender and consuming. It was as though time itself had paused, allowing us to become one in that fleeting moment. Our kiss deepened, and I felt our hearts synchronize in rhythm. The world outside—filled with its threats and turmoil—faded into insignificance.
“Fine.” She stood there in her silk robe, pouting with a darkly amused glint in her eye. “But you better be in my bed tonight. I’m not making any promises about what might happen if you don’t.”
I pulled her close and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, letting a wry smile creep onto my face. “Is this how the honeymoon phase goes? Because if so, I’m already questioning my sanity.” Her playful prod at my ribs made me laugh.
“Better get going before someone finds me and decides I'm a prime candidate for an ass whooping.” I said, only half-joking, the edge in my voice betraying a grim reality.
“Go,” she purred. I kissed her one last time before slipping out the door, only to find Artie standing in the kitchen, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of me.
Artie stood against the island and took a sip of her coffee. She said, “If you guys are going to be making this a thing, next time, let’s try to relax on the moaning and growling. It sounded like there were a bunch of animals in there.”
I glanced back and caught Aphrodite trying to conceal herself behind the door. I ran my hand down my face. “Please don’t say anything to the guys,” I begged her as I approached the island.
“I won’t, but you guys really need to be careful,” Artie cautioned. “Hephaestus has been searching for you, Ares. He asked me where you were, I lied and said you were at Pandora. I had to get Hades to hide your bike.”
Artie set her cup down, running a hand through her hair before fixing her gaze on me. “I love you, Ares,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “I don’t want to see you get lost in this. You don’t let your guard down for just anyone, and that makes it even harder to watch you fall.”
“I have genuine feelings for Aphrodite,” I began, letting my words spill out to Artie, feeling the weight of them lift from my chest. “Since the moment she arrived at the compound, everything’s changed. I’ve kept it all inside, but I need you to know—this is real. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”
As I spoke, I noticed Aphrodite stepping out of her room and making her way toward me. My heart pounded with a mix of resolve and desire. When she reached me, I grabbed her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch grounding me .
“I want this, and she feels the same,” I continued, my voice firm with determination. “And I will stop at nothing to deal with Hephaestus. I won’t let him or anyone else tear us apart.” “How? She has been chosen to marry our brother. You know it’s dangerous to get between him and what he wants.” Artie’s voice quivered with fear.
The weight of everything I was feeling—the protectiveness, the desire, the sheer intensity of it all—was suffocating. I could barely breathe as the darkness inside me clawed its way up, threatening to consume everything in its path. My demons, the ones I thought I could control, were finally surfacing, and I knew that if I didn’t get out of there, they would devour me whole.
“I need to go,” I muttered, more to myself than to them, as I turned and headed for the exit. Each step I took felt like a desperate attempt to outrun the shadows that were closing in, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t escape them forever. My feelings for Aphrodite were too powerful, too overwhelming, and they were dragging me into a darkness I wasn’t sure I could survive.
Tonight, I was going to visit Atlas.
I arrived at the Nymph Hotel, an empire built by Atlas and Hermes in the heart of Aeolopolis City. Pulling up on my Sportster, I could feel eyes on me as soon as I got off my bike. To avoid unwanted attention, I decided not to wear my cut vest.
Having “Olympus Syndicate” plastered across my back wouldn’t help matters in this situation. Being at the hotel was risky, but my priority was Aphrodite and helping her find the truth about her brother.
Following an employee, I crossed through the hotel casino. Crowds of gamblers gathered, drinking and smoking, betting their livelihoods away. I lowered my head, heart pounding, as I navigated the grounds of a property that had banned our club and all those affiliated with us.
We headed toward the elevator inside the hotel.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the penthouse suite, where I was greeted by a deep, resonant voice echoing through the dimly lit room. “Well, if it isn’t Zeus’s war puppet,” Atlas drawled, his words dripping with contempt. The city lights streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the room, making the space feel both vast and suffocating.
I could feel the weight of his gaze as I stood there, the air heavy with tension. The room smelled of alcohol and cigars; bookshelves covered every inch of the walls, a reminder of Atlas’s scholarly nature. We weren’t here to be friends. We were here to discuss business.
“Atlas, let’s cut the bullshit,” I said, crossing my arms and locking eyes with him. I wasn’t here to play games. After taking a bullet, my trust in him was hanging by a thread. “Did you put a hit on me?”
Atlas swirled his drink, his gaze distant as he scratched his chin. “If I did, do you really think we’d be having this conversation right now?”
“So that’s a no, then?” I pressed, my voice laced with impatience.
“No, Ares. I might not be your biggest fan, but I respect you. Whether you want to believe it or not, that’s the truth.” Atlas's voice was calm, almost too calm, as if he was weighing each word carefully. “I had nothing to do with ordering that hit on you.”
I studied his face, searching for any hint of deception. Atlas met my gaze without flinching, his expression unreadable.
After a tense silence, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and cutting. “But I’ve heard some whispers, rumors that the hit might’ve come from within your own gang.”
That’s bullshit , I thought.
“No one in my family would harm each other. It goes against our code,” I snapped, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. The idea was absurd, impossible even. Loyalty ran deeper than blood within the Olympus Syndicate, and we all knew the consequences of betrayal.
But still, doubt flickered in the back of my mind as I stared at Atlas. I knew better than to take anything he said at face value, especially something as serious as this. “Well, I heard a rumor that it was the Four Horsemen,” I shot back, my tone laced with disdain.
The Four Horsemen weren’t a real threat—not in my eyes, anyway. They were a ragtag group of delinquents, wannabe thugs who thought they could play in the big leagues. They were young, reckless, and stupid enough to think they could stand toe-to-toe with a powerhouse like the Olympus Syndicate.
Atlas took a deliberate sip of his drink, the pause thickening the air with tension. He cleared his throat before finally responding, his voice low and measured.
“I can't say for certain, but from what I’ve gathered, the Four Horsemen took matters into their own hands. They torched the men responsible for the explosion at the Aetos’ annual Halloween party. As for the ones who supposedly attacked you—they’ve vanished into thin air. Rumors, of course,” he added, with a casual shrug that did nothing to ease the weight of his words.
His gaze drifted for a moment before he continued, “Hermes mentioned something about Titan and his... questionable activities. It’s the kind of shit that could stir up trouble. If you ask me, it wouldn’t be shocking if you had a bone to pick with him, given everything that’s happened…”
Atlas’s words hung in the air, a toxic mix of half-truths and insinuations. He was painting a picture—one that seemed designed to put me on edge. And it was working.
“Are you accusing me of killing him?” I seethed at his accusation.
Atlas shrugged, “I’m curious about everything, much like you.”
“I had nothing to do with it his death.” I stared at him with a blank expression as my anger surged through me like a pack of ravenous wolves .
“Listen, Ares,” he lazily looked at me, seemingly uninterested in this conversation, “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.”
My nostrils flared as I locked eyes with him, my patience wearing thin. “And who informed you?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Atlas leaned back, his grin widening, clearly enjoying the game he was playing. He let the silence stretch, feeding off my growing agitation. Then, with a deliberate pause, he uttered the name that sent a surge of fury through my veins, “Hephaestus.”
My blood boiled as I sped through the streets. I sent a text to Hades, asking him to meet me at Pandora so we could talk without being seen or followed.
I parked my motorcycle outside the nightclub, avoiding eye contact with the crowd that eagerly waited to get in. My anger was simmering just below the surface, and I didn't trust myself to engage with anyone.
I moved quickly through the club, heading straight for my office. Before I could shut the door, Hades stepped inside, his presence a steadying force in the chaos I felt brewing.
He closed the door behind him, straightened his crisp suit jacket, and leaned against the wall. “So, what’s the reason behind dragging me over here?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.
I was pacing back and forth, trying to get a hold of my thoughts. Linking my hands behind my head, I turned to face him. “Hephaestus has been spreading rumors that I killed Titan,” I confessed as I watched Hades process the words.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where did you get that information?”
“Atlas.” I needed a drink. I went straight for my whiskey collection in the bar cabinet. I took the nearest bottle and poured two glasses.
“Atlas? You know he’s notorious for stirring up drama, Ares. And his kid isn’t any different.” Hades let out a groan of defeat as he walked toward me and grabbed the glass tumbler off the bar.
“What if he isn’t lying?” I looked at Hades, my voice barely steady, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. “What if Hephaestus really has it out for me?”
My chest tightened as I confessed the truth. “I don’t want Aphrodite to marry him. Something feels off about all of this.” The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered. “It’s only been a month since Titan’s death, and now this wedding is being moved up. It feels too soon, too rushed, like a move in a game I haven’t figured out yet.”
I took a breath, the tension in my gut refusing to ease. “But it’s more than that, Hades. There’s something between me and Aphrodite. I feel it, but I’m walking a fine line here. Every step I take feels like I’m on thin ice, not knowing if the next one will break it.”
After I finished spilling my heart out to Hades, he paused for an extended beat, long enough that a cold sweat began to bead on my forehead. I could see him weighing the gravity of what I’d just laid out. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Alright,” he said, his voice low and resolute. “Let’s investigate what Hephaestus is up to. No way we’re going to Zeus with this yet. It’ll only make matters worse if we bring him in on this now. Plus, the wedding is right around the corner. We need to stop it from happening before it’s too late.”
“We need a plan,” I admitted, the words tasting bitter as they left my mouth. The weight of what lay ahead loomed over us like a shadow, and I couldn’t ignore the gnawing dread building in my gut. I tossed my drink back, feeling the burn slide down my throat, and let out a low growl of frustration. The urge to act was almost unbearable, but the path forward was anything but clear.
Hades leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp, calculating eyes. “We’ll start by figuring out who’s really pulling the strings here. Hephaestus isn’t acting alone. There’s more at play, and we need to dig it all up before we make a move.”
I nodded, my mind racing as I considered our options. Although I was eager to strike, the stakes were too high to rush in blind. “We’ll need to be careful—one wrong step and it could all blow up in our faces.”
Hades smirked, a hint of that familiar, dark humor creeping back into his expression. “Don’t worry, Ares. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s navigating through hell.”