I turned away from the closet, anger bubbling up inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. I needed to escape this suffocating room, to break free from the chains he had forced me into. I marched to the windows, my heart racing with each step.
The first window loomed before me, its sleek frame gleaming in the artificial light. I gripped the handle and pulled. Nothing. It didn’t budge. My fingers fumbled over the latch, desperation clawing at my insides as I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.
No fire escape. No balcony. No way out.
I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself to calm down. This wasn’t just a prison; it was a fortress designed by Hades himself. He thought of everything—no escape routes for me to plot and scheme.
I stepped back, frustration surging through me like electricity.
My gaze landed on the dresser again, specifically on a delicate perfume bottle sitting there, shimmering in the light like a beacon of rebellion. The sweet floral scent taunted me with memories of carefree days that felt long gone.
With sudden resolve, I snatched it up and held it tightly in my fist. The glass felt cool against my palm as I approached the mirror above the dresser. My reflection stared back at me—wide-eyed and defiant.
This is for you, I thought bitterly, thinking of how he orchestrated every part of this twisted game.
Without hesitation, I hurled the bottle against the mirror. The sound of shattering glass pierced through the air like a gunshot. Pieces flew everywhere—some landed near my feet while others scattered across the room.
The scent filled my nostrils, sweet yet cloying, choking me as I stood there breathing it in along with my rage.
I waited in silence, heart pounding in my chest, hoping for some kind of reaction—an alarm bell ringing or footsteps approaching—but nothing came.
For a moment, all that existed was chaos—the broken glass glinting on the floor and shards reflecting fragments of myself that felt so far removed from who I used to be.
I stood there, heart racing, surrounded by the wreckage of my own making, like a child who had just thrown a tantrum. The shards of glass glittered on the floor like tiny stars, but instead of feeling empowered, dread curled in my stomach. I had expected rage, punishment, cruelty.
Instead?
Silence.
And that? That was so much worse.
The quiet pressed in around me, thick and oppressive. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had crossed an invisible line.
A knock on the door shattered the stillness. I froze, my breath hitching in my throat.
“Break whatever you want,” Hades called out, his voice smooth and unyielding. “But don’t think for a second it’ll change anything.”
His calmness unnerved me more than any display of anger could have. I didn’t respond; I couldn't find my voice amid the tumult of emotions roiling inside me.
I took a step back, away from the chaos at my feet. Another step followed as if my body sought refuge from his words that lingered like smoke in the air.
“After the wedding,” he continued, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact, “this door won’t be here, Persephone.”
My heart sank further at his implication.
“You and I will share a room.”
A wave of nausea rolled over me at the thought of being trapped with him in such an intimate space—a place where I couldn’t escape his presence or his control.
“Enjoy your solitude while it lasts.”
The finality in his voice sent shivers down my spine. My sanctuary would soon become another layer of confinement—his twisted version of intimacy closing around me like a vice grip.
I stood frozen in the aftermath of my rebellion, heart racing as I listened to Hades’ footsteps linger outside my door. The silence stretched between us, thick and oppressive. I could feel him there, waiting, his presence a shadow that refused to dissipate.
Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of what I’d just done pressing down on me. I half-expected him to burst through the door, rage simmering beneath that cool exterior. But instead, he remained silent, as if savoring my discomfort.
Then finally, his footsteps retreated down the hall.
