Page 41 of Sweet Obsession

Three hard knocks on the door of the apartment cut him off. I search his expression, but there’s only surprise there. Whoever is at my door, I don’t think they’re here because Icarus called them.

Which means they might be here to harm him.

I don’t hesitate. I climb off the bed and shove him back into the bathroom. “Stay there.”

“But—”

I slam the door before he can argue further and yank on my pants. I don’t particularly like guns, so I don’t have any in this apartment. I’ve never felt the lack until this moment as I grab a baseball bat, feeling like the worst kind of fool.

The door has no window in it, so I crack it open, angling mybody to hide the view of the rumpled bed behind me. I’m so ready for a fight, it takes me several long beats before I recognize the man standing on my doorstep.

I blink. “Zeus?”

“Are you going to keep standing here are all night, or are you going to let me in? I’ve already wasted too much time tracking you down.” Despite the late hour, he looks like he just stepped out of the office. His suit is perfectly tailored and doesn’t have a single wrinkle, and his blond hair is styled just like it always is.

Shock has me falling back more than anything else. I deal with Zeus when I have to, and I work very hard to ensure I don’t have to more than absolutely necessary. This one might be different from his father, but he’s still Zeus. I can’t trust him.

He steps into the apartment and closes the door softly behind him. Those cold eyes take in the place in a single sweep, and I have no doubt that he clocked every incriminating piece of evidence. The lube and condoms on the nightstand. The scent of sex in the air. The light under the bathroom door.

Zeus comments on none of it. He merely walks to my table and sinks into one of the two chairs, as regal as a fucking king. “We need to talk about Circe.”

I exhale in a huff. “It’s three in the morning. What could you possibly have to say about Circe that hasn’t been hashed and rehashed in the countless meetings we’ve held?” I shake my head. “No. This is ridiculous and an overstep, even for you. You shouldn’t be here. Get out.”

“You’re right. The meetings have accomplished nothing but wasting everyone’s time. Circe will be actively burning the city to the ground and the Thirteen still won’t vote to go to war.”

I open my mouth to tell him to get out when the details finally register. The differences. Zeus has always been a cold bastard, even when he was still called Perseus, but somehow he’s even colder right now. There’s absolutely no emotion in his voice. He’s talking the same way a person would about the weather they couldn’t care less about. It’s eerie.

I glance at the bathroom door, but Icarus is apparently smart enough to stay out of sight. Or maybe he’s using this opportunity to make more calls. I push the suspicion away. There’s only Zeus and me. “The vote is the only path forward. If not that, then what’s your solution?” I ask carefully.

He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a gun. I tense, expecting him to open fire, but he sets it carefully on the table…pointing in my direction. “There’s no more time for squabbling and power plays. There’s no uniting the Thirteen with reason. So we’re going around them.”

“We?”

“Yes.” He taps his finger on the barrel of the gun, and I can’t stop my flinch in response. Zeus ignores it. In this situation, his late father would have been preening and showcasing a bravado bordering on mania. Not this Zeus. He’s just as cold and contained as the moment he walked through my door. He meets my gaze. “The only question I need answered before moving forward is where your loyalty lies: with me and Olympus…or with my wife?”

Suddenly, there’s not enough air in the room. “What did you say?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t lean forward, doesn’t do any of the traditional movements that telegraph threat into body language. He just looks at me. “You heard me.”

“How did you…?” It’s not the important question, but it’s the first one that I manage to voice in the strained silence between us.

“I know what the rest of the Thirteen—and the city itself—thinks of me.” His lips shift into something that’s almost a smile. Almost. “A fool with too-large shoes to fill. The Thirteen step carefully around me, but only when they’re in my presence. You don’t think I keep track of where they go and who they talk to? You think I’m not monitoringmy wife?”

It could be a bluff, but I don’t think so. From my understanding, Zeus and Hera might have a privately contentious relationship, but it’s mostly just posturing and icing each other out. He has no reason to think that she’d go to such lengths to plot against him. Even so… “How much do you know?”

“We’re wasting time.” He doesn’t shift the slightest bit. “I’m aware of the little games she played with Ariadne and the Minotaur—and of the plot to ensure my death. And I’m aware that the original plot might have failed, but she still has her aims.”

I almost ask him if he’s aware that she’s pregnant, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. I’m still not even sure if it’s the truth. I can’t read Hera particularly well, and it hasn’t been nearly enough time for evidence of the pregnancy to be visible.

I move slowly to the table and sink into the other chair. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “For better or worse, we need you. Your people won’t follow me, and you have no immediate family to pick up the title. It would fall to the eldest of Triton’s daughters, and that’s a mess I don’t relish dealing with.”

I can’t help my wince. Triton is another cousin, though he’sonce removed from the line, which means the title passed to me even though I’m younger. He’s only been dead a short time, but not having him constantly attempting to undermine me fills me with enough relief to feel guilty. He kept his seven daughters under lock and key for most of their lives, with the exception of the youngest, who slipped through the barrier and took off for Carver City. That was a few years back, I think, and it means thatshenow has more life experience than the rest of the sisters combined. They’re not bad girls, but they’re so sheltered they have no idea they’d be walking around with a target attached to them if they were Poseidon.

“What I’m suggesting,” Zeus continues, “is that it’s time for the legacy titles to do what we were meant to.”

Alarm bells peal through me, but I fight to keep my expression controlled. I don’t think I do a very good job of it. “There are Thirteen seats for a reason.”

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