Chapter 05: Pawn

Hades POV

The night was still. The mansion was quiet, but his mind wasn’t. Only the ticking of the clock dared to break the silence.

Hades stood before the tall glass windows of his office, cigarette balanced between his fingers, watching the smoke curl into the air like ghosts. Below, the estate was quiet—guards in their posts, dogs pacing the perimeter, every inch of land under his control.

Control. That was the only thing that mattered.

He had built his life on it, and anyone who challenged it ceased to exist.

Xerxis. The rival. The enemy who thought he could touch what belonged to the Hidalgo family.

Hades smirked faintly. Not for long.

He thought of the girl locked in his mansion.

Nina Sinclair.

A pretty name for something that wasn’t supposed to matter. But she did now—not because of what she was, but because of what she represented.

A weakness. A door.

A way to dismantle Xerxis’s empire from the inside.

She wasn’t a woman to him. She was a message written in flesh and fear.

He had seen that fear in her eyes when she begged, when she trembled. Some men might have softened. He didn’t. It reminded him that power wasn’t given—it was taken. And she was now his proof of it.

He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaled, and sat at his desk. The folder before him bore her name in clean, printed letters.

Nina Sinclair. Age: 23. Former employee under Xerxis De León. Primary caregiver to his son. No criminal record.

Too ordinary. Too clean. Which made her suspicious.

No one this close to Xerxis stayed untouched by his world. There was something else behind that meek face and trembling voice. And Hades intended to find it.

“Brother.” The door opened. Damien stepped inside, his tone laced with disapproval. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Hades didn’t look up. “That’s the only kind worth playing.”

“You kidnapped his nanny. That’s not strategy, that’s provocation.”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Good. Let him feel provoked. Let him lose his balance. That’s when men like Xerxis make mistakes.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “And the girl? You’re using her as bait?”

Hades flicked ash into the tray. “She’s a pawn. A tool. Whatever word you prefer. She exists to serve a purpose.”

“And when she’s served it?”

Hades finally looked up, eyes cold and sharp as steel. “Then she’s nothing.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Damien knew better than to argue. He turned to leave, pausing only at the door.

“Just remember Hades, sometimes pawns bleed.”

Hades didn’t answer. He didn’t care. People bled all the time. It was part of the game.

When he was alone again, he leaned back in his chair, letting the silence settle around him. He thought of Nina—how small she looked in his world of marble and glass, how easily she broke beneath his authority. It wasn’t guilt he felt. It was satisfaction.

She was his possession now. His little dove in a gilded cage.

And through her, Xerxis would burn.

He stubbed out the cigarette and stood. The first rays of dawn sliced through the horizon, painting the room in pale gold.

To others, morning was a promise of peace. To Hades, it was the beginning of war.

Hades walked down the long corridor, the weight of silence following him like a shadow. The night air inside his mansion was cool, sharp, and disciplined—just how he liked it. Nothing moved here without his permission. Not even breath.

When he opened the door to his room, faint light from the hallway spilled over the couch near the window.

She was there.

Nina.

Asleep, small and still, wrapped in a thin blanket. Her breathing was slow, uneven, the kind that came only after exhaustion. He stood there, watching her for a long moment, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

He didn’t remember giving her permission to rest in his room. But then again, she belonged to him now. Her place was wherever he decided.

He moved closer. Her hair lay messily across the pillow, dark strands catching the light from the window. Her skin—too pale, too smooth—didn’t belong to someone who’d grown up with hardship. She looked fragile, almost delicate.

It annoyed him.

That face, that silence, it wasn’t innocence. It was a mask. A trick she’d perfected to survive in Xerxis’s household. And it worked, because even now, it made him hesitate for a second.

His jaw tightened. He remembered her defiance earlier, the way she tried to look away, the way she flinched at his voice. And worse, he remembered what it felt like to lose control. How the thought of Xerxis looking at her, speaking to her, breathing the same air as her made his blood boil.

Xerxis had seen her too.

That alone was enough reason for Hades to want him gone.

He crouched beside the couch, studying her face in the dim light. The cut on the side of her lip caught his attention, the bite marks on her neck and shoulders, a reminder of earlier. His doing. He smiled.

Good. She would remember who owned her.

He took his phone from his pocket and dialed his brother number.

“Apollo,” he said flatly when his brother answered. “I want everything on Nina Sinclair. Employment history, records, every person she’s ever worked for. I don’t care how long it takes—get it done before sunrise.”

“Alright brother. Is this the girl Damien mentioned? That you kidnapped her and she's Xerxis nanny?” Apollo’s voice came through, playful and courious.

“Yes,” Hades replied coldly. “She’s the key to something. I want to know what.”

There was silence on the other end, then Apollo’s voice lowered. “Understood.”

Hades ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. His gaze returned to Nina. She stirred slightly at the sound, eyes flickering open.

She froze when she saw him standing over her.

For a second, the room was quiet except for the faint rhythm of her breath. Her blanket slipped slightly, and she grabbed it instinctively, clutching it close.

Hades tilted his head, expression calm but eyes hard as iron. “Next time I call, you wake up,” he said. “No hesitation.”

Nina nodded quickly, fear flickering in her eyes.

He turned away without another word, crossing to the window. “Get up,” he said. “You’ve got work to do. Dawn’s coming.”

Behind him, she rose unsteadily to her feet. Hades didn’t need to look. He already knew she’d obey.

Because obedience wasn’t a choice here.

It was survival.