Descent

by Natasha Knight

  “What?”

  “But it’s taken care of now.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, but he doesn’t get a chance to answer because just then, the door smashes open and Hayden stands hulking in the doorway like an animal that just escaped captivity. Even with two men on his heels, they can’t hold him back.

  “Hayden!” I’m on my feet.

  He looks me up and down, ignores Dominic and lunges for his brother.

  I stumble backward, knocking my chair over. Dominic shakes his head to stop his men from pulling them apart but other than that, he doesn’t move, just watches as the brothers take each other by the collar, faces inches apart.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Hayden spits at Ares.

  “Relax, brother. I did you a favor.”

  “Favor my ass,” Hayden roars, drawing his arm back, hand fisted.

  I scream.

  Dominic finally gives his men a nod and three of them are on Hayden dragging him from Ares.

  Ares adjusts his collar, goes right up to Hayden and I think he’s going to be a smartass or punch him or something, but he just gets in his face and tells him “I’m on your fucking side, asshole.”

  “Calm down, boys,” Dominic says.

  I look over at Dominic and think how strange it sounds, him calling them boys. I’d guess them to be about the same age.

  The brothers turn to him. I see Hayden force a breath in as his gaze shifts to me.

  “Are you hurt?”

  I shake my head.

  He nods then turns to Dominic. “Get your men off me and tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing.”

  Dominic gestures to the men with a quick jerk of his head.

  Hayden straightens his sleeves and collar and walks back to Ares who stands his ground. They’re well matched and I get the feeling this isn’t their first fight.

  “You and I will talk later,” Hayden says.

  “I look forward to it,” Ares taunts with a wide smile and I think if he’s not careful, Hayden will knock those pretty white teeth out of his mouth.

  Hayden comes to me, looks me over again as if checking for himself that I’m not hurt.

  “Why is she here?”

  “I wanted to meet her,” Dominic says.

  “I’m guessing she didn’t come of her own free will.”

  “She was encouraged, it’s true, but I’ve been a generous host, haven’t I, Persephone?”

  I feel Hayden tense beside me, and I answer quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” I touch his arm, slide my hand into his.

  “We need to discuss some things,” Hayden says.

  “Right down to business. I like that,” Dominic says.

  “Shane,” Hayden calls out and his man appears at the door. “Take Persephone to the car.”

  “If it’s business, I want to hear,” I say.

  I feel Dominic’s eyes on us, but it’s Hayden who speaks.

  “You’ll wait in the car. Period.”

  Before I even open my mouth, I’m ushered out by Shane, the door closed behind me.

  39

  Hayden

  I slam my hands on Dominic Benedetti’s oversized desk.

  “You do not touch what’s mine.”

  “Got your attention, didn’t I?”

  “I mean it, Benedetti. You do not touch what’s mine.” I’m so angry, my voice is hoarse and raging.

  “Sit down,” he tells me, the cockiness of a moment ago replaced by something darker.

  When I don’t move, he stands, sets his hands on his desk and leans toward me, the threat clear.

  I don’t scare so easily though.

  Just then the door flies opens. “Did you see it?” Gia Benedetti asks as she rushes in with a child of about two following close behind her.

  She stops the instant she sees us. Sees how we’re facing off. The little boy runs behind the desk straight at Dominic’s legs who, without a moment’s hesitation, almost like flipping a switch, bends to scoops him up.

  This is his son. The Benedetti heir.

  It’s strange to see him like that. To think of him as husband and father.

  “I made a drawing for the baby, daddy!”

  “Did you, Franco?” Dominic asks to the boy, his tone that of a father, not the mob boss he is.

  He looks to his wife.

  Gia clears her throat. “I didn’t realize you were busy.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You want to see it?” the boy asks.

  Dominic turns to his son. “Later. When I’m done with my meeting,” he says, setting him down.

  Gia rushes to take his hand and there’s a moment where the pair exchange a look and I see her mouth the words, “Thank you.”

  Dominic reaches out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and she momentarily lays her cheek in his hand and then she and the child are gone.

  When the door closes, I sit.

  He does too.

  Seeing this side of him casts him in a different light.

  “I’ve taken care of the mafia war, as you called it. And the photos of Elizabeth Abbot will never see the light of day.”

  “Was it Scava or my stepbrother who arranged for them to be taken?”

  “Jonas Montgomery made the arrangement with Angus Scava. Scava was no less eager.”

  I grit my teeth, fisting my hand which is sore after beating up Jonas.

  “Detectives found compromising photos on his computer, apparently. Elizabeth Abbot’s were among others. It’s disgusting, really.”

  The way he says it, I know he’s responsible. I know he planted evidence and tipped the authorities off, but Scava earned it.

  “We resume construction on the property in two weeks,” I say.

  “I’m glad to hear it. And Senator Hughes?”

  “Won’t be a problem.”

  “Good.”

  40

  Persephone

  Hayden settles into the back of the SUV. He looks disheveled. Tired. And when he closes his hand over mine on the seat, I notice his knuckles are red.

  “Take us to the club,” he tells Shane and Shane nods. “Are you okay?” he asks me.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “Been better.”

  “What happened?”

  “With Jonas or in there?”

  “Both.”

  He rubs the back of his neck, glancing out the window. His forehead is creased when he turns back to me.

  “Well, Jonas is in the hospital.” He gives me a strange smile. “And we’re going on with the Benedetti project. Those photos of Lizzie will never get out.” He looks away again, shakes his head. “My father knew.”

  “You mean about Jonas and Nora?”

  He nods heavily.

  I touch his cheek, brushing the scratchy growth of a few days on his jaw.

  “All along?” I ask.

  He looks at me, and I can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking, why he seems to be hesitating. But then he shakes his head.

  “No, only recently,” he says finally. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m sorry I scared you.” He smiles but he looks sad and we don’t talk again until we’re at the club and he’s ushering me up to his office, and through it to the living quarters and finally to his bedroom. Once we’re there, he takes my face in his hands and he looks at me for a long minute, then kisses me and it’s the softest kiss we’ve shared.

  He draws back, he looks at me again, his eyes dark and when he starts to strip off my clothes, he’s controlled, not rushed.

  I undress him too, closing my hands over soft skin and hard muscle and as our kissing grows more urgent, he walks me backward to the bed and he never breaks that lock of our mouths as he pushes inside me, one hand cupping the back of my head, the other my cheek as he kisses me.

  I wrap my legs around him, and I move with him and when he breaks our kiss and I open my eyes, I find him watching me and there’s something strange about the way he’s looking at me. Somethi
ng tender.

  “He had to let her go every year. Let her be in the light.”

  It takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about. Hades and Persephone. The myth of them. Of us.

  “I can’t do that,” he says as if he’s still in his head.

  “Hades.” I see pain in his eyes and mine water.

  “You’re a piece of me.” His thrusts are deeper, his cock thicker and I know he’s close. “When I’m not with you, I feel it. It’s like a gaping hole I can never fill. And I can’t have that anymore. I can’t be without you anymore.”

  I touch his cheek, kiss his mouth and hug him tighter with my legs.

  “I want to steal you away. Hide you. Keep you.” He’s moving faster, the fucking harder. The frenzy is coming.

  We kiss again, our mouths open, tongue on tongue, hands gripping.

  “I want to fuck you day and night. And I’m going to do just that. Lock you in this room. Tie you to my bed. Never let you go.”

  “Kiss me, Hades.”

  I gasp with the last of those words as he kisses me, lifting me a little, shifting our position a little, just enough that he hits that spot and I’m coming. I’m coming and my breath is his name and our eyes are open and he’s not alone in this, in wanting me like he does because I can’t be without him either. What have I been without him?

  “I love you, Persephone. I love you.” The words are a rumbling breath as he stills inside me and we watch each other as we both come and he’s so beautiful. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I love you, Hades,” I tell him, pulling him close when he collapses on top of me and I feel his heart racing against my chest. “I’ve always loved you. Only you.”

  41

  Persephone

  I hear the muffled sound of a phone ringing in the distance. I open my eyes, groggy as I try to make out where I am.

  Hayden is beside me, his arm heavy across my chest.

  The ringing stops and I turn my head to look at the clock. It’s late afternoon. Is it only afternoon? This day has stretched too long.

  I look at Hayden whose eyes are closed. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him sleeping. The few times we’ve slept together I’ve always fallen asleep first.

  I watch him, think how beautiful he is, how fiercely protective. Possessive. Two sides of the same coin. One aggressive toward the object of its obsession, the other toward any threat to that object.

  The ringing starts again, and I turn my head to see my purse at the far end of the room under our clothes. When I move, hoping to slip out without waking him, he groans, pulls me to him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  I turn to find his hazel eyes on me, more gold than green right now.

  “My phone. Someone’s trying to call me.”

  “You’ll call them back.” He pulls me closer, but then his phone rings too.

  I get out of the bed first but by the time I locate my phone in my purse, the call has gone to voicemail. I look at all the missed calls. Most are from a number I don’t recognize but a notification tells me someone left a message.

  “What is it?” Hayden asks.

  I turn to him, thinking he’s talking to me but he’s on his phone. I’m about to click in to listen to the voicemail when the phone rings again. Same number.

  Without hesitating, I answer. “Hello?”

  “God, Percy! Where have you been?”

  “Lizzie? What’s happening?” Panic makes my voice higher.

  “I’ve been calling and calling.” She doesn’t have her cell phone which explains why I don’t recognize the number.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “You have to come now.” A brick drops in my belly. “Come to the clinic now, Percy.”

  “What’s happened?” I ask and hear Hayden mutter a curse from behind me.

  “His heart stopped.” She chokes on the words and my heart breaks. “He,” she sucks in a sob. “I thought maybe…”

  “Oh God.”

  “They have him on a ventilator, but it’s bad.”

  “I’m on my way,” I say, already pulling on my clothes as I drop the phone back into my purse.

  “Persephone,” Hayden starts behind me.

  “My father,” I say, pulling on my pants as I turn to him and I see from his face that he already knows. “You know?”

  “That was the driver who took you and your sister this morning. I’ll call down for a car.”

  We get to the clinic in record time and I rush to my father’s room expecting to find a team of doctors working on him, a buzz of activity as they try to save his life, but I’m surprised when the only person in the room is my sister.

  I look at my father, at the new machine he’s hooked up to in addition to the others. I listen to the sound of the ventilator operating his lungs.

  Lizzie wipes her eyes and stands. I hug her and for a long minute, we just hold each other. We just stand like that and hold each other until I hear the door open and Hayden enters along with a doctor.

  “Where’s Celia?” I ask when Lizzie pulls away.

  “Her daughter’s school called. She wasn’t feeling well so Celia left a few hours ago.”

  “Ms. Abbot?” the doctor walks over to me. “I’m Dr. Nicholson. I was here when your father took a turn this afternoon.”

  “What happened?”

  “I thought he was going to wake up,” Lizzie says. “I thought—”

  I take her hand, squeeze it and pull her to me. Dr. Nicholson looks at her with an expression of pity. This isn’t the first time he’s seen something like this.

  “His heart gave out,” he says to me. “It’s not uncommon for a man in his condition. We were able to revive him, but he hasn’t been breathing on his own since.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll need to think about what you want to do.”

  I look at my father lying there, and he looks old and frail and so small.

  I already know what I have to do. As much as it will break our hearts, I know. It’s what I should have done already. What I know he would have wanted.

  “I’ll give you some time alone,” Dr. Nicholson says and turns to exit the room.

  “Doctor?” I call out.

  He stops and turns to me, eyebrows raised.

  “There’s no chance he’ll wake up from this, is there?”

  “No, Ms. Abbot, outside of a miracle, I don’t believe so. I’m sorry.” A moment later, he’s gone.

  Hayden puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezes it while Lizzie brushes her fingers through our father’s thinning hair.

  “We should let him go, shouldn’t we?” she asks, surprising me. She drops into the chair she was sitting on earlier. “He’d hate this.”

  I nod, my eyes still on my father.

  42

  Hayden

  Quincy Abbot died two days later with his daughters holding his hands.

  I stood back and watched and I can’t say that I felt anything for him. No sadness or regret. Justice, maybe? What he did with Nora was wrong any way you slice it. He’s guilty of that.

  I don’t care about what happened to Quincy Abbot. But I do care that Persephone is suffering.

  And I know that that suffering is on my father’s hands.

  I stand beside Persephone at the cemetery now and I still don’t feel anything as I watch the casket lowered into the ground. Persephone wanted a private ceremony for family and close friends only but there are still reporters along the periphery because he was a senator, after all.

  Irina turned up for the funeral, which I guess shouldn’t surprise me because the reading of the will would follow directly.

  She’s a pariah. A bottom-feeder.

  Quincy Abbot hadn’t updated his will before his accident. In fact, he hadn’t changed it since his fortune began to collapse. So, when their attorney reads his final wishes, it’s a moot point. Because the house is mine. Controlling shares of the company will remain mine even though each of his da
ughters will receive an equal division of his shares. And there’s not much fortune to speak of.

  Irina would receive an allowance out of his estate, but since said estate is no longer financially viable, she will get nothing.

  I watch her from my place at the back of the room when she hears this and, exactly as I expect, she huffs and puffs and leaves in a flurry, her rage overriding any grief she may have pretended to feel.

  I watch Lizzie as her mother throws her tantrum. Persephone isn’t affected but I see her watch her sister too and as much as Lizzie tries to pretend she doesn’t care, she does. She’s hurt. I see it. I’m sure Persephone does too.

  When it’s over, Shane takes them home. I don’t accompany them. I have to take care of one thing first. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I call my father and, without even a greeting, tell him to meet me at the hospital.

  When I enter Jonas’ room, my father is already there.

  Jonas is sitting up on the bed, his face swollen and bruised, both eyes black one arm in a cast and bandages circling his torso. He gives me a hate-filled look, but I don’t miss the fact that he presses himself deeper into the bed at my approach.

  “You fucking asshole. Look what you did to me.” He seethes, his rage a palpable thing.

  “Shut up,” my father tells him before I get a chance to. “What’s this about?” my father asks as the door quietly closes behind me.

  “Quincy Abbot’s death makes that hit-and-run a homicide.”

  My father’s jaw tightens, and Jonas looks the other way.

  “I have a question,” I say. I wait to speak until Jonas turns back to me. “Why did you leave that letter for Persephone to find in the chapel the other night?” I’m actually not certain it’s him who did it, but he’s the one with the most to gain from it. She’d know her father was involved with Nora to the point that he’d thought he’d impregnated her. She’d know her father tried to pay for an abortion. Maybe she’d see that Nora loved Jonas? The thought still sickens me but in his twisted mind, maybe it made sense.