Chapter 1 #3
Elbows on the desk, he steepled his fingers as his stony gaze met mine. ‘Cordelia is going to be indisposed for the foreseeable future,’ he said. ‘Let’s see about that when she returns, my daughter. We have business to attend to, so get back to class.’
She released a frustrated sigh, and I motioned towards the door with my head. After a second, she submitted, glancing at Drakos and embracing me again.
‘Very well. Thank you, Papa.’ She gave him a small, tight bow. Then she looked at me again, her eyes soft. ‘I love you,’ she mouthed, and I nodded and touched a hand over my heart.
‘I’ll see you soon, Guinn,’ I whispered as she left the room.
Once the door snicked closed, I turned to Drakos, fury simmering beneath my skin. ‘So,’ I said, my voice steel wrapped in satin, ‘what’s the job, Father?’
Half an hour later, the job had been laid out in full.
One million pounds. A happy little wiggle fluttered in my chest at the number, even if the rest of me felt like it was being dragged down into hell.
I placed the vial, phone, and phone charger into my compact backpack, and laid the box at my feet.
I carefully withdrew the dagger from the clear silver-edged scabbard, and unease coated my skin.
‘This looks like a weapon of the gods,’ I uttered as I studied the blade.
The hilt was ornate silver with intricate designs, and a blue crystal adorned the bolster face.
The double-edged blade itself was glass-clear, but inside it shimmered with strange, fire-like patterns—celestial, otherworldly; starlight trapped in ice.
I slid the blade back into the scabbard and placed it in my backpack.
‘And who exactly is the target? Is he a threat to anyone? If we tangle with the gods, then…’ My mouth was dry.
The gods… Shit, they were a nightmare on steroids to be involved with.
Once they had waltzed back in and seized control, some of them went full recluse again, but others?
Oh, they basked in the spotlight like Kardashians on ambrosia—flashbulbs, worship, scandal (looking at you, Zeus), the whole overblown circus.
Humans lapped it up like obedient pets. Pathetic.
Hades, though, still kept his broody, underworld-CEO aesthetic—rarely seen, but he’d opened these ultra-classy nightclubs in every major city. Think velvet ropes, eternal guest lists, and cocktails that could probably resurrect the dead.
Dionysus opened exclusive wine bars, naturally. His “special reserve” was rumoured to contain a drop of nectar—liquid divinity for your Friday night bender.
Apollo went full rockstar—literally. He bankrolled live music venues worldwide, cashing in on every spotlight while strutting around like Spotify was created just for him.
Aphrodite obliterated the likes of Ann Summers and Victoria’s Secret with a global chain of lingerie and sex emporiums. Think Love Island with a corporate budget, complete with racks of lace, silk, and enough vibrators to power a small city.
Zeus, the asshole-in-chief, built a billion-dollar investment company staffed by Oracles. Insider trading? Please… he basically is the stock market.
Ares, the god of war, did the least shocking thing ever and created a global MMA cage-fighting empire. Humans line up to watch blood sport on pay-per-view while Ares gloats from the VIP box, turning violence into a billion-dollar brand. A brutal sport for a brutal god. Figures.
The gods had promised a “fairer world.” Annoyingly, they’d delivered.
If you were a law-abiding citizen, life was golden.
If not, punishments were archaic, vicious, and very, very public.
The standard of living was higher, crime was down, homelessness gone.
The world is a utopia—curated by the same lunatics who once started wars over a golden apple.
Still… I was waiting for the catch. With gods, there was always a catch.
The takeaway, though? Don’t piss off the gods unless you fancy being used as a floor mop… one still dripping red.
‘So many questions, little flower.’ Drakos’s voice was smooth, mocking, and shook me from my internal reverie.
My stomach clenched. ‘Ours is not to ask. Only to fulfil the contract. As for the gods… I have no idea. Maybe he’s a demigod who’s gotten out of hand, and they need to deal with him discreetly.
’ He paused. ‘One million pounds should be incentive enough for you to succeed. Do the job cleanly, and when you return, I’ll let you spend time with Guinevere. ’
‘I have to cut off his head?’ I muttered as disgust swirled in my belly.
‘Yes, they were explicit about your instructions. Do not fail me, Cordelia. The client… implied that people I care about may suffer if you do.’ At his words, a shiver of panic tiptoed down my spine.
‘Guinn? Have you put Guinn in danger?’ The metallic, bitter taste of anger filled my mouth with every word.
The room went so quiet you could hear a fly fart.
He didn’t answer me. ‘Your plane leaves at 4 a.m.… Do not be late.’ He started studying papers on his desk, which was my cue to beat it.
What in the seven circles of hell was Drakos getting me in to?