CHAPTER 7

“This wound,”  Hades traced his fingers lightly around her shoulder blade, his voice low. “It’s a gunshot wound, isn’t it?”

“No,” she said, her voice tight. “It’s just… a tattoo. A spur-of-the-moment thing. My… my ex-boyfriend and I got them. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He saw the way she bit her lip, the way her brows furrowed in a silent plea. The truth serum syringe still hung in his hand.

She intrigued him. He was going to unravel her. Every layer, every secret. He was going to bend her to his will. But not yet. Not like this.

He capped the syringe and tossed it onto a nearby table. He began to circle her, his movements predatory. “Start talking,” he commanded.

She took a deep breath, composing herself. And then the lies began, smooth and practiced. “I don’t know who sent me here,” she said, her voice steady. “A man contacted me over a year ago. Through letters. At first, they were threats. He knew where I worked, a Montessori school. He wanted to meet.”

She paused, her eyes darting nervously. “We never met face-to-face. It was always in a church, a big cathedral in Los Angeles. He’d sit behind the priest’s confession booth, and we’d talk through the screen. They used burner phones, their voices distorted. I couldn’t recognize them. But the man in the church… he ..he sounded Italian.” She threw that detail in, a calculated move, hoping to deflect suspicion from the FBI. The Italians were a convenient scapegoat.

“Hmm,” Hades murmured, his gaze sharp. “Go on.”

“They wanted me to get incriminating evidence from this event,” she continued. “That’s all I know. They planned everything. They provided the dresses, the jewelry. Even this necklace has a camera in it. They planned it all, but I never saw them. I don’t know who they are. They made it clear that if I was caught, then I was better off dead. I swear this is my first time..”

“Why?” Hades asked, his voice low and dangerous. “What did they have on you?”

She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling. “They… they threatened me. They said they had evidence that I was involved in the murder of my… my ex-boyfriend.” She began to sob, the tears streaming down her face. “It’s a lie. A terrible lie. But because of how he died… they’re blackmailing me. And his family too. The Simpsons. They took me in, you see. I’m an orphan. I’ve been in foster care my whole life, until the Simpsons took me in and became my family. Even though I don’t share their name. I go by my first foster family’s name. Montenegro. Claudine Montenegro. People always ask where I’m from. I always say I don’t know. It just… stuck.”

Hades watched her, his expression unreadable. “So they’re blackmailing you? Or did you do it willingly? Including what happened seven years ago?”

She recoiled, her voice rising in a near-hysterical scream. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve never met you before! Nothing happened seven years ago! These men just told me to get them information, however I could, that night at the gala. Then they’d leave me and the Simpsons alone. If I got caught, I was on my own. They couldn’t be traced back to me.”

Hades chuckled, a low, humorless sound. He saw the gaps in her story, the carefully constructed lies. “Then why did you swallow the SIM card?”

“I… I don’t know,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear. “I panicked. I wasn’t thinking.”

She began to beg, her voice pleading. “Please, just let me go. My arms are aching. My body is…” She trailed off, realizing the futility of her words. She knew the FBI had a tracker on her somewhere. She prayed, desperately, that one day they would get her out of this mess.

Hades picked up the syringe again, his gaze unwavering. She struggled against the chains, her voice rising in panic. “Please, no. I’ve told you everything. I swear on my life!”

Hades’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “Your life is literally in my hands right now. You’ll have to swear on something else.”

She hesitated, her mind racing. Then, in a moment of desperate inspiration, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I swear on my baby’s life!”

Hades froze, his eyes widening slightly. “Baby?”

She nodded, her voice trembling. “I’m… I’m pregnant. It was… an unfortunate situation. Before I met Gregory. And then I found out I was pregnant for a man who.. who had his way with me.” Claudine knew this was a sensitive topic and she was being a bitch right now trying to buy his sympathy. Her face transformed into that of a victim found in the hands of a greasy bear.

Hades stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and… something else. Anger. He looked at Artemis, who was equally stunned.

“Really? Then why are you so afraid of the serum, then?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “If you’re telling the truth, why are you so scared?”

He tossed the syringe into a nearby bin, his mind reeling. He moved closer to Claudine, his gaze intense. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, her naked body pressed against his. He held her neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. He had held himself back from touching her, from giving in to the primal urge that had haunted him for seven years. But he couldn’t resist any longer.

“You don’t mind that you’re naked for all to see?” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

She hissed, her eyes flashing. “I don’t mind.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “What if I fucked you right here, right now? What if I went down on my knees? Would I be welcomed with a wet cunt?”

She knew the answer to that. She was wet, her arousal filling the room. She swallowed hard, her carefully constructed defenses crumbling. Fuck. Why was her brain betraying her? She was supposed to hate this man. Not… want him.

“Since the SIM card incident was ‘impulsive’,” he continued, his voice a low purr, “does that mean we won’t find anything… suspicious if we check?”

She met his gaze, her eyes defiant. How the hell was he planning to get that SIM card out of her? “Fuck off,” she spat, her voice laced with venom.

He traced his fingers over her lips, his touch light as a feather. “I’ve dreamt of kissing these feisty lips for the last seven years,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “Even with everything that’s happened.”

She shook her head, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and… something else. “You’re sick. Delusional. I’m not some girl you met years ago.” She begged him, her voice desperate.

He laughed, a low, dangerous sound. He moved away, his expression hardening. “We’ll see,” he said.

He turned to Artemis, his voice sharp and commanding. “Has she eaten?”

“No,” Artemis replied, getting confused.

“Hmm,” Hades feigned annoyance. “Why hasn’t our guest been offered anything? Get her food. Now. There’s a tray in the kitchen. Bring it here. This minute.”

As Artemis left, the coldness returned to Hades’s eyes. He turned back to Claudine, his gaze piercing. “Why?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Why did you do that to me?”

She maintained her defiant stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My brother and the others are going to kill you,” he said, his voice flat. “I won’t interfere.” It was a lie, a calculated attempt to break her, to make her trust him. But she simply looked away.

“What was his name?” Hades asked, his voice casual, almost conversational. “Your boyfriend.”

The question caught her off guard. She didn’t want to lie. It would be easy for him to find the Simpsons, to uncover the truth about Drey. She hesitated, her mind racing. “I… I don’t want to talk about him,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper.

Hades’s patience snapped. He moved closer, his voice rising in a shout. “Answer me! What was his name?”

Artemis returned, carrying a small tray covered with a silver lid. The aroma of food wafted through the air, a cruel temptation. Was he really being… kind? This Vancouver bastard?

“Don’t make me be mean to a pregnant woman. What was his name?” Hades repeated, his voice dangerously soft.

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of grief and defiance. “Drey,” she said, her voice tight. “Andre. His name was Drey.”

Hades froze, the name hitting him like a physical blow. “Drey,” he whispered, the word echoing in the silence. “Andre,” he repeated, his voice barely audible. Then, louder, “Very good. We’re almost done for the day. I just need you to eat, baby girl.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. “No. Please, no.”

He nodded to Artemis. “Hold her still,” he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. “And hold her mouth open. She might bite again.”

She struggled, her body arching against the chains, her muffled cries filling the room. He took a spoonful of the food, a carefully plated meal… smothered in onions.

Her eyes widened in horror. She was going to be sick. Just the smell of them. And the SIM card… Fuck. He’d planned this all along.

“Your boyfriend’s name, not your sister’s” he repeated, his voice relentless, bringing the spoonful closer.

She begged, her voice choked with tears. “Drey,” she sobbed. “His name was Andre fucking Simpsons.”

Hades forced the food into her mouth, his hand clamping over her jaw, preventing her from spitting it out. She gagged, her body convulsing, but he held her firm. She vomited, the contents of her stomach splattering onto the floor.

He took a napkin and wiped her mouth, his expression unreadable. He repeated the process, forcing another spoonful of the onion-laden food into her mouth. She vomited again, her body trembling violently. He continued, his movements methodical and relentless, until all that was left was her saliva, a thin, bitter stream.

She was having an allergic reaction, her breathing ragged and shallow. He didn’t care. He knelt down, his eyes scanning the vomit, searching for what he knew he would find.

Finally, he saw it. The small, metallic glint of the SIM card.

He picked it up, his eyes meeting hers. “I knew I’d find you again, Mia,” he said, his voice a low, triumphant growl.

He tossed an EpiPen at Artemis. “Clean her up,” he ordered, his voice sharp.

Artemis, her face pale, helped Claudine, gently cleaning the vomit and blood from her body.

The triumphant look in Hades’s eyes was undeniable. He was ecstatic. This was her. His Mia. Even though she denied it.

He turned and left the room, his mind racing. He ordered Artemis to take her to his suite. Yes, he had his own wing and his own rooms in this estate. Artemis was to clean her up while he decided what to do with her.