Chapter 3

“Are you sure about this, Cassie?”

Cassandra gazed into Aria’s concerned brown eyes and dropped the t-shirt she had been squeezing on the bed. They stood in her bedroom by the bed, and a giant bag was opened, waiting to be filled in with

 the clothes they folded.

“If I say yes, will you stop fretting and help me pack?” She asked, a grin playing on her lips. “One would think you’d be happy for me. I’ll be living in that jackass’s house for a month.”

“All the more reason to be worried,” Aria mumbled, reaching for Cassandra’s hands. “Keith Andino isn’t a man to mess with.”

“Oh, I can handle him,” Cassie said, brushing Aria off with a wave. “Guys like him think they’re big shots. I’d bet my uncle’s pony that he has a tiny dingle between his legs.”

Aria clasped a hand over her face and dragged it down. “This is exactly what I’m afraid of. Cassie, you can’t go around Andino’s mansion speaking like that! He’s the richest man on the whole fucking continent! Have you ever seen him without gel in his hair?”

“Aria, calm down,” Cassandra yelled. An odd sort of pressure was climbing up her throat, and she would rather not worsen it. “I don’t care if he’s fucking Napoleon. He tried to trick me. And now he’s trying to cover it up with some stupid bet. He won’t get away with it.”

Aria gave her a look that told Cassandra she wasn’t convinced. “I don’t think he would have made that bet if he wasn’t confident he could cure you.”

“Oh please,” Cassandra scoffed and grabbed the t-shirt she had dropped earlier. Without folding it, she tossed it into the large bag. “I’ve been stuck with insomnia for five years, Ari. There’s no way he can cure it in a month. He’s bluffing and simply trying to get me to back down.”

Aria shook her head, giving up on trying to convince her best friend. Picking a red dress, she folded it neatly, thinking deeply before speaking up. “What if he succeeds?”

Cassie’s hands stilled, but her face held the same expression. Blank. If he wins... His words drifted through her mind, sending every nerve endings in her body tingling with need.

...You will be my slave... Forever...

Her nipples poked through the stretchy fabric she wore—a long modest deep green gown draped softly and comfortably against her skin. A certain chill, the type that made her knees tremble lightly, ran down her spine.

Dammit, he hadn’t meant anything like that, she tried to convince herself. It was simply her sleep-deprived head interpreting his words as sensual. There was nothing sexy about being a slave. Nothing.

“I know he won’t... And if he does, it wouldn’t be so bad, Ari. I’ve... I’ve searched for a cure for so long. I’m fucking twenty-five, Ari. At this rate, I’ll grow to be an old lady living in a cabin, knitting red hoods out of wolf fur.”

Aria pulled a face. “I doubt there are red wolves,”

A chuckle slipped from Cassandra’s lips, and she zipped the half-filled bag. “I doubt it too. My point is, if the stuck-up jerk actually cures me, I’d be so fucking happy-”

“And his slave,” Aria pointed out, but Cassie snorted and dragged the bag off her bed. It was time to go.

“Yeah, right; what’s he going to do? Tie me up?”

***

Keith watched from the balcony as the loud, annoying Cassandra Wilson wiggled her ass into his mansion behind his butler. She looked... different.

At least different from the crazy sleep-deprived woman that had almost torn his building apart

 the day before. The evening sun cast a soft, warm glow on her hair, making the red streaks more pronounced than the brown ones. She had tossed the lousy orange t-shirt aside and was draped in a dress that matched the color of her eyes.

Green. Green emeralds had flashed like daggers at him. Where in Hades did she get such a solid unyielding spirit from?

No, Keith shook his head. The real question should be, why in Hades had he made that deal with her?! He was confident he could cure her. He wasn’t the god of sleep for nothing. But was he asking her to be his slave?

“Dammit, Keith,” he spat, feeling agitated. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was pissed at the woman for being such a thorn in his soul and pissed at himself for striking such a deal.

A whistle echoed beside him, and he glared at his shadow behind him. “Why the hell are you here?”

“My little brother’s uncomfortable. I wouldn’t miss this for the entire Olympus,” the gruff voice of his brother reached his ears, and he glared harder.

“We’re twins, Thanatos. Get the hell out of my shadow; that’s fucking creepy,” he fumed.

“No can do. I’m enjoying this,” his brother cackled and whistled again. “Would you look at that ass?!”

Keith could not help himself. He had to look at it. Cassandra and his butler were climbing the stairs to the south wing of the entire building. Her gown swung along with her swaying hips, and Keith wondered if she was as tanned beneath the dress as she was on her hands and face. He imagined shoving up her skirt, feasting his eyes on her supple golden ivory skin, plump and warm and ready to be spanked. Considering how tart her mouth was, he could imagine all the dirty, dirty things that would slip from her mouth. All the naughty things he could make her say.

“Hades,” he spat, dragging a hand down his face. He was fantasizing about the woman who had become the bane of his existence.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” his brother taunted. “The whole earth sings about Hypnos, claiming he is the very essence of calmness and serenity. Here you are, all sweaty and blubbery-”

“Thanatos, if you cannot help me, get lost. Don’t you... have souls to take or something?” Keith snapped, and his brother chuckled, still in his shadow.

“Don’t worry, little bro,” the jackass taunted, his voice slowly fading away, indicating he was leaving. “If you cannot put her to sleep, I’ll do it permanently.”