7. Where The Second Bullet Point Of The Plan Is Accomplished （And The Empress Finds It Even Hotter…）
WHERE THE SECOND BULLET POINT OF THE PLAN IS ACCOMPLISHED (AND THE EMPRESS FINDS IT EVEN HOTTER…)
The Board meetings were a chore Hera attended rarely. Her vote never counted for much; the percentage of shares she held was small, nominal.
Zeus had given them to her as a “goodwill gesture,” that of a magnanimous, generous ex-husband bestowing a gift on an unwanted wife and deeming her harmless enough to entrust a piece of his business to her.
Hera had felt insulted. Hera had felt slapped by the present. But Hera had accepted. Back then, she thought it was because she wanted to have at least something of him still. How absolutely stupid of her. How wretched, how pathetic.
Now she skipped the meetings and donated all the profits she received to women’s shelters.
The artist that Hera sometimes bought bespoke pieces of clothing from, DeVor, had a really comprehensive program for women’s protection in New York.
So Hera signed the checks to go there automatically.
She did not miss the money. She did not miss the bustle of corporate life either.
Sitting now in the boardroom, watching Zeus posture to the directors and major executives, she wanted to yawn. And get a drink. Something much stronger than the fancy designer water in her tall glass.
A small bell rang, and the people milling about, showing off their watches and jewelry, finally settled around the long, cold marble table. Who thought it would be a good idea to have a table made of stone? You couldn’t even touch it without feeling the chill and the grain.
The agenda was read. Hera rolled her eyes at the proposal to rename corporate buildings after the major directors.
Men really needed phallic things named after them.
Insecurities ran rampant even among the rich and famous.
She voted no on this proposal and another to rechristen the headquarters after Zeus.
He already had a ton of things named after him.
A hundred-story building in the middle of Manhattan, a spire cutting up the sky, would be a bit much even for him.
Still, the motion carried, and Zeus’s cronies high-fived him, cheering as he guffawed good-naturedly. Hera looked down at her watch. She figured she’d be able to leave by the time she drained her glass.
When the last point of the agenda was reached, Hera’s ears picked up a strange noise coming from the hallway.
Usually quiet, plush and posh, it rarely contained any noise above the deliberately neutral music.
There were shouts. And a scuffle? She wasn’t the only one to notice, as several shareholders turned towards the glass wall separating the boardroom from the rest of the space.
“This is a private meeting! Only the Board of Directors and the major shareholders are invited!”
The poor assistant and two security guards were valiantly keeping someone away from the door. Then one of the men became airborne from a perfectly connecting left hook… A left hook, Hera would know anywhere. After all, she had seen it just a week ago.
As the dust of the altercation settled behind her, Nemesis stood in the doorway, her knuckles bloody, her shirt blindingly white, her mouth crimson and smirking. She deliberately rested her other hand on her sword. Hera realized she had developed a sudden weakness for long… swords.
“I see you started without me.”
“What in the hounds of hell are you doing here?” Zeus got out of his chair.
“Now, why would you mention Cerberus’s name in vain, old man?”
“Careful, Vengeance, you have no place here.” Zeus was all the way out of his chair and halfway to the door. Hera felt her breath still, her hands turning cold, a kind of cold that was more death than a beating heart.
Instead of cowering, Nemesis laughed. Hera could swear her heart went into overdrive and for an entirely different reason. It was not lost on her that Zeus tried to position himself between her and the newcomer.
“Oh, but I do… You see, old man, I don’t think any of the decisions voted on today are legal. So your skyscraper dick will have to wait till… let me see… Hmm, never?” Nemesis laughed again, a joyful, full sound, and Hera felt the need to open a window. Why was it suddenly so hot in here?
At the other end of the room, Hermes yelped and proceeded to take notes.
“What are you talking about, Vengeance?” Zeus moved again, but Nemesis cut his route, now squarely in front of the entire room and in plain view of Hera. In fact, did she… did she just wink at her?
Hera felt the wink in her solar plexus.
“Well, have you not wondered where Artemis is? And Athena? And Aphrodite, for that matter? They might not be your directors, but they sure as Hades should be here too, since they own your shares… Or should I say owned?”
“What?” Zeus turned a distinct shade of red. “They must have sent a proxy… Who’s got their proxy? They always send—”
Nemesis’s smirk was downright dirty.
“Oh, they did send someone; they sent me. The new owner of their shares.”
Hermes’s shook his hand out a few times before returning to typing furiously. And speaking of… Three Furies arranged themselves behind Nemesis like silent sentinels. Zeus blanched.
“So you come here with your goons—”
The tallest of the Furies made a hurt face. Nemesis patted her bulging biceps.
“There, there, Alecto. Big bad Zeus did not mean it that way.” Nemesis turned back to the room.
“They’re my friends, and they’re also insurance.
Not that I need any, not from you, but some of your people have proven that they can be very foolish…
” Nemesis drew out a sigh and looked at Poseidon, who was flexing his massive muscles and reaching for his trident.
The slightest move from Alecto did the trick. The gilled fool sat down. Zeus gulped.
“Artemis… Athena… Aphrodite… That still only gives you 49%… My people still hold the majority…” Beads of sweat popped on his forehead.
And then Hera felt it. The heavy gaze of the Balancer of Retribution. Nemesis so rarely used her divine power in this way.
All the Gods and Goddesses had their moments when their powers turned terrifying.
Zeus and his Thunder. Demeter and her Earth and Rain.
Ares and his War… Even Poseidon and his damned Seas Rising…
But Nemesis and the gaze of the Scales of Retribution, about to be balanced, held a special terror among the mortal and the divine.
Nobody escaped it. Nobody could. So different from Justice, blind and bound by rules.
Nemesis was restrained by nothing, just as retribution.
And Zeus, following Nemesis’s gaze, knew it. Hera held two percent of the shares. Hera held his fate in her suddenly trembling hands. And Nemesis had provided the confines for her to use them.
A graceful hand extended towards her.
“My Queen? Your move.”
Nemesis bowed her head, the mahogany locks pure luxury in color and texture. Hera had the most inappropriate thought, of her own fingers diving into them here and now, gripping, pulling---
Jesus and the Saints! Dammit, wrong religion!
But it felt good. So good to look into the icy, silver-flecked eyes and see that she was being given all the power. All of it! And not just stemming from her own right. No, she was given everything. Nemesis gave her the sweet, sweet taste of holding all the cards.
And speaking of cards. Another Queen, this time of Diamonds, covered in blood red ink, was held gently between Nemesis’s fingertips.
She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, taking Nemesis’s hand. It was just as cold as her own. Hera slowly pocketed the card, her fingers now coated with the distinct hue.
“Do your worst, Revenge, you have my shares.”
With that, she allowed Nemesis to escort her out the door, the Furies snickering behind them.
“How did you—”
Nemesis smirked as she handed Hera into the waiting limo.
“Will you wait for me? Tonight?” The low voice trembled with something Hera could not decipher. What was she being asked? “I have to go back up, before my Furies tear that place to pieces. They can be rather… a handful.”
Hera smiled.
“Kind of like their mistress.”
She gasped as the words left her mouth. Had she really said them? But Nemesis’s smile just widened.
“Of all the gods, you’d know, Your Majesty.”
Hera felt that tug again, the rib under her heart throbbing with something she chose not to name.
It must be that pesky syndrome that humans experience.
The one where something pangs in their chest and they can’t breathe.
Precordial catch syndrome. If this were in connection with someone’s penis, they’d have three different medications and days of paid leave to deal with it.
But since no penises were associated with it, nobody knew the causes or the treatment.
All people did was wait for the catch to let go, to pass.
As her chest loosened, either due to the damned syndrome or Nemesis finally letting go of her hand and nodding to the bear to drive, Hera didn’t know.
She breathed deeply, enjoying the slow expansion of her rib cage, unencumbered by the painful tug.
Belatedly, she realized she had not given Nemesis an answer.
“Wait… WAIT!”
The bear hit the brakes, the limo screeching to a stop in the middle of the busy Manhattan street, as people laid on the honks. Taxi drivers leaned out of their cars, cursing.
Hera all but burst out of the vehicle. Nemesis was almost through the revolving door of the skyscraper.
Why was she running after her?
A thought for when she was much more sensible.
Because at that moment, she was anything but.
Hera sped up, her heels making it both more difficult and easier to leap across the sidewalk.
Someone whistled. Someone catcalled. Nemesis turned, and the wondrous cold eyes were not so cold anymore.
The ice broke, tiny shards sparkling with the brightest blue.
“Your Majesty?” The question in the low voice was almost pleading.
Hera ran right into her, the strong arms lifting automatically to hold her, to steady her.
Oh, she was such a fool.
“I’ll wait for you. Tonight. I mean. I’ll wait for you. To come… To explain.”
Nemesis smiled, and Hera could swear somewhere nearby the bear choir hit a particularly high note in the “Oh yeaaaah!”
Hera patted the hard rock shoulder under her hand and shook herself free before slowly walking back to the limousine.
She did not look back, but she knew Nemesis watched her till the car disappeared around the corner.
She felt the heat of those eyes on her all the way up to her penthouse, all the way to her bedroom.
As she entered, on a pillow, on the made bed, the Queen of Clubs all but winked at her.