He leaned down slightly, voice as quiet as it was unsettling. "Go ahead."
Alice wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.
But she decided to fully commit. If she was going to make a fool of herself, she might as well go all in.
She put on her best understanding and deeply compassionate gaze—never mind that her soul was actively trying to evacuate her body.
"I know... y-you want to be better," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I know you think people misunderstand you. And sometimes... you feel frustrated. Alone."
Cringe. She wanted to die.
He did it again. The head tilting he was so fond of doing. This time, the head tilting felt like the exact same way a predator does before deciding whether to pounce or play with its food.
"But I... I believe in you," she pressed on, heart pounding. "I know you’re not as bad as people say."
And then—it happened. The tiniest flicker in his expression.
She held her breath. Maybe she had cracked the code. Maybe beneath the cold exterior, there was a tragic, lonely soul waiting to be—
He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath.
"Of course, I’m not," he whispered.
Yes. He wasn’t as bad as people thought. She knew it—
And then, his big hand wrapped around her throat.
Alice’s soul left her body immediately.
"I am worse," he said, voice smooth as silk and twice as deadly.
She couldn’t even scream. Just stared, wide-eyed, as he slowly tilted his head, as if contemplating whether choking her was more entertaining than, say, drop-kicking her off a balcony.
She gasped for air. She was even too scared to try to fight him off. It looked like one wrong move from her and he would snap her head off her body. He looked like he could do it. Like he would do it.
"If you ever touch me again," his voice dropped lower as he glared at her darkly, "I will feed you your fingers. Raw."
She stumbled back, almost doubling and falling over the couch but she was able to get herself, gasping, clutching her throat like she could physically push the trauma back inside. Alice staggered further away from him as she coughed violently.
This man is not human.
Her brain short-circuited. Her entire existence compressed into one single thought: I have never been more wrong in my life.
Maybe she should’ve gone with the "cool and distant" route. Or maybe the "mysterious and untouchable" tactic. Instead, she had chosen cringe. And it had nearly cost her life and... actual fingers.
She looked up at him, still gasping. He stood there, calm as ever, watching her like she was a mildly interesting bug he had decided not to squash—for now.
Then, casually, like it was an afterthought, he said the exact same thing he told her last night: "Run."
Yeah, she was definitely running.
The moment Alice bolted, the apartment fell into a heavy silence.
Then, as if they had been waiting for their cue, Hades’ henchmen materialized from the shadows.
One from the hallway.
One from behind the bar.
Another from what looked like a secret compartment in the wall.
Gavin came down from the stairs.
All of them turned their heads toward the door Alice had just fled through, their expressions unreadable.
Rowan, the first to break the silence, leaned lazily against the wall, rubbing his chin in thought.
"I hope she doesn’t visit the gym."
Clarisse, arms crossed, raised a brow. "Why?"
"Because she’s going to stay fit after all the running," he mused, a smirk curling on his lips.
There was a beat of silence—then laughter. Loud and shameless.
Well, almost everyone laughed.
And, of course, Hades.
Hades wasn’t looking at the door Alice had run through. Nor was he paying attention to their antics.
He was looking at his hand.
Candice was the first to sober up, straightening as she noticed his uncharacteristic stillness. The others followed suit quickly, their amusement dying down as they, too, turned to Hades.
"Are you that shocked because you held a woman’s hand for the first time?"
The words came from Gavin, and the entire room froze.
Gavin never spoke unless necessary. And when he did, well... let’s just say he had the remarkable ability to make every situation significantly worse.
One might wonder why he was still alive.
He wasn’t just Hades’ gunman. He was, for all intents and purposes, his closest and only friend.
But that didn’t mean Hades wasn’t currently shooting daggers at him with his eyes.
Gavin, unbothered, simply handed Hades a wet wipe.
Just... where did he even get that out from?