“A secretary sleeping with her boss? Really, Lauren?” I slap my hands on my thighs in disbelief. “Is that all this is to you?”
“Silas … you said it yourself—you don’t do relationships. You’ve told me a thousand times that you just fuck. What am I supposed to think?” Her voice is cautious, but there’s hurt in it, too.
“Yes, but not with you!” I snap, irritated, incredulous that she doesn’t get it. “After everything we’ve been through, do you really think this is just sex? For fuck’s sake, I asked you to move in with me! Does that sound like someone who’s just looking for a fling?”
She’s quiet now, clearly processing my words. I take a breath, forcing myself to lower my tone. I don’t want to yell. Not at her.
“I want you to be mine,” I say, more softly this time. I meet her gaze, and she looks conflicted, like she’s not sure how to feel. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. What else do I need to say for you to understand that?”
“You’re ...in love?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes” I admit, and my voice wavers slightly.
She’s silent, processing. “With me?” she repeats, double-checking.
Typical Lauren.
“Yes, Lauren, with you.” I roll my eyes, half-exasperated but mostly overwhelmed by the need to make her understand. “I don’tgive a damn what anyone else thinks. You’re mine, and I’m yours. You always have been my Persephone.”
Lauren’s green eyes meet mine, her lashes fluttering as she processes what I just said. She nods slowly, turning her gaze to the windshield.
“This changes everything … ” she murmurs, almost as if she’s talking to herself, lost in her own thoughts. I don’t interrupt. I just listen, silently grateful to be hearing her inner world.
“Lauren,” I say softly, taking her hand and intertwining our fingers. She glances down at our hands, studying them as if the simple act holds more meaning now. “I know this might sound childish, but I always wanted to ask you back in school—will you be mine?”
A slow smile starts to form on her lips, and I can’t help but mirror it. “Silas, are you sure? A relationship requires a lot of things, and … ” she begins, her voice hesitant.
“Only two things—me and you,” I cut her off gently. “Look, I know I’ve got a bad reputation, but having you in my life, in my bed, it feels right. I was an idiot to push you away when we were kids. I let you go once, but that’s not happening again. In fact, I don’t think you even have a choice at this point.” My voice is teasing, but the sincerity is there, raw and real.
She squeezes my hand, biting her lower lip to hold back a full smile, but I can see it in her eyes. “Yes,” she finally says.
“Yes, what?” I ask, needing to hear the words.
“I want to be yours, Hades,” she replies with a playful smirk, and just like that, everything I’ve wanted for so long feels closer than ever.
My Persephone, finally mine.
Lauren
Silas doesn't let go of my hand as we walk into the grand hall, where the party is already in full swing. The music—some kind of disco beat—is a little overwhelming, but I remind myself of what my therapist always says: focus on the small things. Staying calm, not letting myself get flustered, is key in moments like this.
Everyone seems fixated on greeting Silas—or, as he calls it,kissing his ass—so no one really notices our joined hands. Or if they do, they’re doing a damn good job pretending they don’t. Silas takesevery opportunity to introduce me to people I’ve never even seen at the office, but he lingers when speaking with the investors—the ones responsible for putting his big project on hold.
Watching him work is mesmerizing. He’s so passionate and commanding, clearly in his element. The two men in front of us hang onto every word, the same way I do. I wonder if they feel the same admiration I do. Then again, I’m in love with him, so maybe I’m seeing everything through a lens that magnifies his every move.
My mind drifts back to the conversation we had in Central Park earlier today—Silas Walker, the guy who made high school a nightmare, confessing his feelings all this years later. It’s still hard to wrap my head around.
A tap on my shoulder snaps me back to reality. Both Silas and I turn to see Dulce, who looks nervous, shifting from foot to foot.
“Lauren, could you take a look at something? We have a problem.” Her words confuse me, and I glance at Silas, who raises a brow.
“I’ll be right back,” I say with a polite smile to the investors, who nod while Silas watches me closely as I follow Dulce away from the conversation.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“First of all, that dress looks amazing on you—everyone’s been talking about it,” Dulce says, smiling.
I blink, thrown off by the compliment. If there's a problem, why is she focusing on my outfit? “Thanks, Dulce, but what’s the issue?”
