1
Sofia
The week passed with painful slowness.
I worked at the hotel, went home to my mom’s impatient stares, and tried to pretend that my life wasn’t about to change forever.
Hades didn’t come to the hotel and catch me by surprise. He didn’t stop by to leave any paperwork for me either. He just stayed away until I addressed the situation.
I was sitting on the main balcony with a cup of coffee in hand, wondering how different my life would have been if I were born into a normal family. Being rich wasn’t worth all the stress. It wasn’t worth being manipulated like this.
Mother was seated beside me, a cup of tea in her hand. “You’re out of time, Sofia.”
“I’m not doing it.”
She sighed as she looked straight ahead. “We can have the same conversation again, but it’s not going to change anything. This will happen whether you like it or not. If you don’t want Hades, we’ll find someone else. But truth be told, I don’t think you’re going to find anyone better than him.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know he’s been keeping everything together at the hotel since Gustavo died.”
“Uh, no. That’s been me.”
“Honey…there’s a lot of stuff that happens behind the scenes that you don’t know about. Hades does the dirty work and doesn’t complain.”
My eyes drifted down to my coffee.
“You’re going to talk to him.”
The idea of looking at him made me sick to my stomach. The years had only escalated our mutual hatred. I still remembered the night he picked up that model and made out with her right in front of me. It was low…really low. But it wasn’t as painful as the time he bumped into me in the hallway and threatened me if I ever spoke to him again. “No.”
“Well, he’s here.”
“Jesus.” I set my cup down. “You’ve got to be kidding me—”
“I’ll leave you two alone.” She leaned toward me and patted my hand gently.
I didn’t want to face him—and now I didn’t even have time to prepare.
My mother walked away, her shoes echoing on the pavers until she was inside.
I felt the breeze move through my hair as I watched the summer sun sink below the horizon. I was rigid from his presence, aware he was right behind me, staring at the back of my head. Once I faced him, the conversation would begin…and I didn’t want that.
His slow footsteps were audible as he approached the edge of the balcony. He stopped beside me, a couple feet away so he didn’t invade my space.
I could see him in my peripheral vision, see his dark jeans and his black t-shirt. My pulse was so strong in my neck that I thought the artery would burst open. I wasn’t sure if I was scared or nervous…or both.
He was silent, waiting until I was ready for the conversation before he spoke his mind.
I couldn’t run from this. Just like any other problem, I had to face it. I had to grow a backbone and stand my ground. If I let him intimidate me, then it would prove my mother right…that I did need someone to protect me.
I finally got to my feet, lifted my chin, and looked at his side profile. “I had nothing to do with this—”
“I know.” He turned to me, his muscular arms resting by his sides. He was the same strong man that he had been when we were together, still painfully beautiful, still so masculine that he was made of pure testosterone.
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling awkward because we hadn’t spoken even a few sentences since we’d broken up, since the night he’d asked me to marry him. Now we were both reliving that memory, both thinking the same thing. “Why would you even want this? You could have anyone you want. Why me?”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered what I said. The sky was a mixture of purple and pink behind him, and despite the unpleasant conversation, it was a lovely evening. He took his time replying, either because the answer was so obvious that he didn’t need to explain, or he was trying to find a reason.
“Are you doing this to punish me?” I whispered, afraid this was all about revenge, that he would hurt me as payback for my rejection.
His eyes narrowed farther, clearly stung. “No. I told you that’s not the kind of man I am.”
“Then why?” He couldn’t still love me. Too much time had passed. He’d been with too many women, had plenty of time to move on and forget about me.
“A lot of reasons.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve been working with Tuscan Rose for a long time, since my early twenties. I have a vested interest in its livelihood. Someone needs to oversee it. Someone needs to keep everyone accountable. Your mother said fifty percent of that hotel is now mine. That’s my biggest reason.”
I was hurt that my mother gave away half of our company, but I suppose there was no other way. A man would only want to be locked into marriage if he was getting something out of it.
“My second reason is children. I want a family—and you will give me beautiful children.”
That meant we had to screw…and we hadn’t screwed in so long. Would the sex still be good? Would it be awkward and uncomfortable?
“My third reason…I want to fuck you.”
Despite my indifference to him, my arms were covered with bumps like a cold breeze had just blown through. My pulse quickened further, and my tongue suddenly felt too big for my mouth. I even dropped my gaze because I was so uncomfortable by what he said. What was I supposed to say to that?
He stared me down like he expected me to say something.
I tucked my hair behind my ear then brushed my fingertips across my lips. When my arms were close to my body, I could feel my heart thudding against my arm, feel it trying to break through my rib cage. “I’m only having this conversation because my mother forced my hand. She didn’t tell me you were here…just sprung it on me. And I’m confused because anytime we’ve ever interacted in the past two years, it’s been extremely hostile.”
“I’m a hostile guy…when you get on my bad side. That’s exactly why you need me.”
If he could scare me, he could scare anyone. “Well, is that how it’s going to be every day? Hostile?”
His eyes shifted back and forth as he looked into mine. “No.”
“So…you forgive me?”
“No.”
“I don’t see how we can be partners if you can’t let go of the past.”
“I’ve let it go,” he said simply. “Doesn’t mean I have to forgive you. We don’t have to talk about it ever again. In fact, I’d prefer if we didn’t.”
Could I spend the rest of my life with a man when we had such a dark history? Our feelings were muddy and complicated. There were emotions all over the place. “I don’t want to do this. But I don’t see any other way…”
“Your mother is right. Marrying me is your best option.”
“Or I could run away and start over…”
“And leave your mother behind?” he asked coldly.
No, I couldn’t abandon her.
“You’re overthinking it. Don’t fight it.”