“Then make time.”
He removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms, which are covered in ink.Beneath the white dress shirt, his biceps strain against the fabric.Dark ink peeks out from beneath the top few buttons of his shirt, and I can see he’s cut like an athlete.
Down, girl.
“I have a packed schedule,” I deadpan as I pretend to check the calendar app on my phone.“I’ll see if I can fit you in between now and never.”
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”Ares sinks into the chair, his body taking up too much space as he crosses his arms over his chest.“Let’s see who gets the last laugh.”
“I love how much you fuck with him.”Apollo’s voice is deep and smooth, and once again, he’s invading my personal space.“Do you know how often anyone talks like this to Ares?”
“I’m guessing never.”
He nods, smirking.“We’re going to have so much fun together, Ophelia.”
ChapterSeven
ATLAS
I was neverlike my brothers.As a child, I would sit in the corner and draw with my crayons while Apollo read a book and Ares stacked his blocks, only to kick them over.
Apollo enjoyed learning.
Ares liked to hit things.
And I created art.
Between the three of us, we make the perfect team.It’s always been us against the world.And after our dad’s murder, it brought us closer, bonding us in ways we hadn’t expected.For three people with little in common, we found one thing to unite us—our hatred for Belen Drakos.
So, when Apollo and our mother devised a plan to help us reclaim our birthright from Belen, we jumped at the chance.I wouldn’t be sitting in this dining room wanting to rip out Belen’s eyeballs if our revenge weren’t in sight.
It’s too bad his daughter is involved.Ophelia is an unnecessary complication, a pawn in a much larger game.The poor girl will go down with her father if she doesn’t see things our way.
Belen raises his glass of wine with a smile.“I’m so thankful you’re all here.After Cora passed, I didn’t think I would ever remarry, let alone have a family again.”
Ophelia spits the wine into her glass and sets it on the table.I can’t tell if this is her way of sayingfuck youto her father or if the wine is disgusting.
Maybe a little of both.
I hate wine, so I raise my glass of craft beer.My brothers follow suit, forcing smiles to make our mother happy.It’s the least we can do since she’s gone to great lengths to get us here.
Our mother isn’t just named after a goddess—sheisa goddess.Like her namesake, she’s full of wisdom and power.
“To my beautiful bride and her sons.”Belen smiles, raising a glass.“I can’t wait for us to become a family.Yamas.”
I drink to his toast, even though this beer is shit.Our mother smiles and sips her wine.Ophelia sits between Ares and Apollo, groaning so loud her dad’s eyes snap to her.He gives her a warning look to behave herself.
I flip open the sketchbook on my lap and return to drawing Ophelia.She consumed my thoughts from the second she pointed a Glock at Ares.Beautiful and strong, she has the power of a goddess when she speaks, commanding the attention of a room.
I can see why Belen’s men respect her.She’s his heir apparent and a take-no-shit kind of woman.Watching her put Ares into his place is such a fucking turn-on.
My charcoal pencil moves across the paper on my lap, and Apollo glances at my drawing.
He shakes his head and whispers, “Don’t go soft on me.We follow the plan.”
Keeping my head down, I nod.I’ve been in a creative zone since Ophelia tried to shoot us.
That was fun.
