“It’s okay. It’s a lot to ask of you right now,” he said. “With Lexa and your work. And I have put a lot on you tonight, shown you a side of me you haven’t seen before.”

“You aren’t...upset?”

Hades considered this for a moment. “Do I wish you’d said yes? Of course.”

Her shoulders fell. “I’m just...not ready.”

“I know,” he kissed her forehead, and as his lips touched her skin, she began to cry.

Hades brushed her tears away. “Tell me.”

“I ruined everything,” she buried her face in his chest.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You ruined nothing, my darling. You were honest with yourself and with me. That is all I ask.”

“How could you want to marry me now? After I have told you no?”

“I will always want to marry you because I will always want you as my wife and queen.”

She was comforted by the promise in his voice and hoped that when he asked again, she would be ready.

“Will you show me more of this place?” she asked, rubbing at her face to erase the tears.

“More of Iniquity?”

“Yes.”

He groaned. “Do I have a choice?”

“If I am ever to be your queen? No.”

CHAPTER XV - A NETWORK OF SECRETS

CHAPTER XV - A NETWORK OF SECRETS

There was more to Iniquity than her experience as a customer on the dance floor. It doubled as a hangout for New Athens crime families, secret societies, gangs, and the freelance criminal. Their lair was in the basement of the building, accessible only with an ancient coin called an obol.

Persephone glanced at Hades. “I see you have repurposed the idea of paying to enter the Underworld.”

He chuckled quietly, but said nothing as he guided her down a long, dark hallway and into a spacious room, lit only by light that filtered in through a wall of windows. Persephone approached, and found that the suite overlooked a casual sitting area. There was a bar and several smaller tables and chairs. People sat around, playing cards and chatting, drinking and smoking, filling crystal trays to the brim with ashes.

Persephone touched the glass and asked, “Can they see us?”

“No,” Hades said.

“So you spy on them from up here?” she asked, glancing at the God who hung back, sticking to the shadow.

“You can call it spying if you like,” he said.

She studied the people below and found a familiar face.

“That’s Nefeli Rella,” Persephone said, surprised to see the madam and owner of the Pleasure District—literally a whole neighborhood of brothels. She was a beautiful, middle-aged mortal. Her hair was dark and she wore sequins and feathers. A jade cigarette holder was poised between her pointer and middle finger. Persephone had never seen anyone look so glamour as they smoked.