“Why did you let me treat you like one of my girls?”

Persephone shrugged. “I was curious. Don’t worry, if everyone in attendance tonight keeps my secret, I’ll ensure Hades never finds out that you laid a hand on me. Understood?”

“Of course.”

Madame Selene pulled out a key and inserted it into the panel, pressing the button for the third floor. They were silent until the Madame asked, “Are you here to bargain with him?”

Persephone’s heart raced. “Why would I bargain with Apollo?”

“Because you’re desperate.”

Persephone stared at the woman.

“I see desperation every day, my love. If you’re seeking an end to it, trust me, Apollo’s not the answer.”

Persephone clenched her jaw. “Remember my promise earlier, Madame? You’d do well to stay quiet.”

The woman offered a half smile and Persephone thought it hinted at her wickedness. “Apologies, my lady.”

The elevator came to a halt, and Persephone stepped into a well-furnished and luxurious living room. The place was covered in rich fabrics, textured rugs, and fine artwork.

Persephone felt on edge as she moved into the space, thinking that the God of Music might appear out of thin air just to scare her, but as she rounded the sitting area, she found Apollo in an adjacent room. He was naked, relaxing in a giant bath. When he saw her, the god stretched out, resting his feet and draping his arms over the edge of the bath.

“Ah, Lady Persephone,” he said. “A true pleasure.”

“Apollo,” she acknowledged.

“Come, join me!”

“Did you not just warn Madame Selene of Hades’ wrath? He will cut your balls off and feed them to you if you touch me.”

Apollo chuckled, as if he thoroughly enjoyed the visual Persephone had just given him.

“Would you deny me what I am due? I bought and paid for you, after all.”

“Then that is your loss,” she replied.

Apollo chuckled, narrowing those inky violet eyes.

Suddenly, the elevator doors opened again, and three nymphs entered the room. They were dressed in shimmery slips. One carried a bowl, the other a tray of various bottles, and the last a stack of towels.

“Put the oils in the bath. I have waited long enough,” Apollo snapped as they approached.

The nymph with the tray didn’t seem at all anxious by the god’s rudeness. Her movements were unhurried and precise. She sat the tray down, chose a bottle, and measured the oil with the cap. When that nymph was finished, the other scattered rose petals into Apollo’s bath, and the last rolled up a towel and placed it beneath his head. Once the nymphs were finished, they left the room soundlessly.

“Did Sybil tell you where to find me?”

Persephone glared. “So, you do remember her name.”

He had refused to say it before.

The god rolled her eyes. “I remember the names of all my oracles, all my lovers, all my enemies.”