Page 24 of Gilded Gods

I nod at the couple eating baskets of fried foods by the window, fighting over money.

Who will pay the bill? What should they tip the waitress? Should they tip at all?

“Ah, those assholes,” she groans. “They keep asking for free shit. The freebie seekers never tip.”

Cheryl is the head bartender and runs the place when I’m not here. She’s in her late forties with four kids that she sometimes has to bring with her because she can’t find a babysitter.

“He’s a sorry excuse for a man,” I tell her.

“She’s too pretty for him,” Cheryl comments, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “Way out of that loser’s league. He looks like he crawled from the depths of Hell.”

I bob my head in agreement.

The pale skin beneath his eyes is ringed with dark circles as if he hasn’t slept in days. I haven’t seen him in here before.

“He looks like one of The Serpents’ fanboys.” She laughs. “Bet he’s only hanging around until one of those troublemakers shows up.”

The four psychos who call themselves The Serpents are like local celebrities in Beacon Bay. After I was forced to make a deal with them, my bar became their new headquarters. Belen Drakos has taken everything I love from me.

First, my father.

Now, our mother.

On top of that, Ares is getting blackmailed into losing a fight by Belen Drakos and sent Alexander to collect. My brother bet money he didn’t have with a bookie, and now he has to lose the fight or sell his club. He’s undefeated, so the odds on his next fight are in their favor.

I finish drawing the couple and flip back to a sketch of Ophelia.

Cheryl leans over my shoulder, her thick perfume clinging to the air like syrup. “Who’s that? She’s pretty.”

“My new stepsister,” I bite out through clenched teeth.

I hate her.

But I want her.

I have already filled several pages with sketches of Ophelia. Her power and beauty fuel my passion. Her anger pours out of her, even when she’s not speaking. She’s mad about our parents getting married, which I understand. I’m not thrilled about being Belen Drakos’s stepson.

After Ophelia left the house, I couldn’t draw. Nothing popped into my head. She’s stimulating my creativity, and I don’t like it. The daughter of our enemy can’t be my muse.

Cheryl taps me on the shoulder. “Boss, one of those Serpents is looking for you.”

I glance up and find Morpheus popping his head out of the storage room. Once he has my attention, he whistles and tips his head. He’s the second-in-command of The Serpents.

“Better go see what he wants,” she says in a hushed tone. “I’ll handle everything while you’re gone.”

I tuck the charcoal pencil behind my ear and snap the sketchbook shut, sliding off the bar stool to follow Morpheus into the back room.

Last month, I sold half of The River Styx to The Serpents. The deal sucks, but it has its perks. Like getting the information we need to take down Belen Drakos.

People fear the names of The Serpents whispered in the streets—Hades, Morpheus, Charon, and Lethe. Their real identities are unknown.

Our deal was a handshake over a few drinks. Men like The Serpents don’t sign contacts. That would mean giving away information that can be used against them.

They come and go most nights, using the storage room to hide their illegal products. I have no idea what they bring into the bar, and I don’t care.

I never ask questions.

It’s better this way.

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