But I needed answers, and she was the only one who had them.
I paced a tight circle near the edge, heart hammering. My fingers twitched at my sides, itching to do something—text him, call him, run. I hated the way this place made me feel—like I was already losing before the conversation even started.
And then… she appeared.
Callista stepped through a gap in the fencing, her frame sharp against the fading light. She looked the same—composed, crisp, beautiful in that chilling way only she could be. Her eyes met mine, unreadable.
“You came alone,” she said, like it was a test I’d just passed.
I forced a breath past the lump in my throat. “Like you asked.”
My voice was steadier than I felt. “Start talking.”
We stared at each other across the cracked rooftop, wind tugging at our hair. The city stretched out behind her, glittering and cold. Somewhere far below, life continued. But up here? Time held its breath.
She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “You don’t understand what you’re involved in, Persephone.”
“Then explain it to me.”
A beat of silence.
Her gaze swept over me, searching for something—doubt, fear, weakness. She’d always been like this. Calculating. Poised. A scalpel wrapped in silk. And yet, there’d been a time when I would’ve followed her anywhere.
That time was long gone.
“I know who he is,” I said before she could launch into whatever curated speech she’d prepared. “I know what he’s capable of.”
“And you’re still with him?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “You’re sleeping with the monster and you don’t even see it.”
My jaw clenched. “He’s not a monster.”
She laughed, low and bitter. “No? Then why do I have a folder of everything he’s done? The deals. The bodies. The women. You think you’re special? You think he won’t break you, too?”
“You don’t know him.”
“I knew him before you did.”
The words hit like ice down my spine.
“I’m not leaving him,” I said. “If that’s why you dragged me up here, you wasted your time.”
Her expression shifted. Not surprise—calculation. Like I’d said the exact thing she was waiting to hear.
“Then I guess we’ll do this the hard way.”
And that’s when I felt it.
A presence behind me.
I turned?—
And saw Clint.
Callista stepped closer, wind tugging at her coat and her words, the rooftop air thick with the storm still brewing. Her eyes narrowed like she could see straight through me—to every conflicted thought I was trying to bury.
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” she said again, her voice edged in something brittle and broken. “Hades and I were arranged. It wasn’t romantic. But it was real enough for him to use me.”
I stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
