Radiant Sin(13)

I glance at the clock. It’s already three. I don’t know what resources he’s going to pull in to outfit me in a new wardrobe in twenty-four hours, but that’s obviously his plan. I swallow past the pride threatening to choke me. He’s right. This is to further the plan, not because it’s charity. Come to think of it, Zeus made an offhand comment about my wardrobe during that last meeting, but I’d been too flustered to think much about it.

It doesn’t matter. I know what Olympus will think when they see me at Apollo’s side in clothing that’s blatantly new. They’ll call me a gold digger and whisper that I’m sleeping my way to the top to reclaim the power my parents lost.

It’s not the truth, but Olympus never cared about the truth. Not when a juicy story is dangled in their faces. Not when a convenient lie covers up an ugly reality.

It’s fine. I knew this was coming. It’s why I warned Alexandra earlier.

I press my hands to my desk and focus on breathing through my anger. It doesn’t matter what those piranhas of the upper city think. This relationship with Apollo isn’t real and it’s only temporary. I’ve dealt with the nasty comments and sidelong looks for twelve years. I can do a few weeks more.

At the end of this, Alexandra and I get out.

I can bear anything to reach that conclusion. As long as I don’t try to follow in my parents’ footsteps, the worst the Olympian assholes will launch at me are words. I’m not so thin-skinned to let that deter me from my end goal. Zeus’s money will get us far, and I won’t do anything to give him cause to say I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.

At five o’clock exactly, two dark-haired white women walk through the door. I instantly recognize Psyche Dimitriou and her oldest sister, Hera. Oh, Hera’s name used to be Callisto, but since she married Zeus, she’s secured a position within the Thirteen as the new Hera. The sisters couldn’t be more different. Hera is tall and lean, a walking blade with an attitude to match. She can get away with cold eyes and snarling at anyone who comes close in a way I could never dream.

Psyche is a few inches shorter and my size, her abundant curves clothed in a really cute little sundress in a pin-up style with cherries printed on the fabric. I’ve met her a few times since she showed up at a party on Eros’s arm, newly married and navigating the deep Olympus waters with apparent ease. She’s sweet, but she must have teeth beneath that soft exterior, or the upper city would have eaten her alive already.

She focuses on me. “Cassandra. So wonderful to see you again. You look lovely as always.”

“Psyche.” I pause, flicking a glance at Zeus’s wife. “Hera.”

Hera surveys me. “Well, at least you have style. That’s better than the last one.”

“Callisto,” Psyche hisses. “Be nice.”

“Are you going to tell her to be nice?”

I raise my brows. “I can hear you.”

“I know.” Hera flicks her hair over her shoulder. “But you’re a rare woman who appreciates honesty, so I’m sure you won’t mind.”

“Callisto.”

She ignores Psyche and stalks to Apollo’s door to rap on it twice before walking in. Psyche gives a deep sigh that I recognize on a cellular level. It brings a reluctant smile to my lips. “Sisters, huh?”

“The best and the worst, both at the same time.” She crosses to me. “This is all very hush-hush, but I’m to understand that you need a wardrobe.”

I have to concentrate to keep my skin from heating. It works much better in Psyche’s presence than in Apollo’s. I thought I was prepared to be judged, but this is happening so quickly. “It’s for work.”

“No need to be defensive,” she says mildly. “You know who I am. In my opinion, no one needs an excuse for new clothing.” She casts a long look at my body. Unlike most people in this city, it’s not judgmental in the least. More like she’s assessing my size. “There is a designer who’s recently branched out into more plus-sized fashion who I trust implicitly. She has a decent number of items in stock that will match the criteria Apollo relayed. Zeus is picking up the bill, so I suggest you take advantage of this because she’s incredibly expensive.”

Psyche Dimitriou is one of Demeter’s daughters. She might have been raised outside the city proper, but even before her mother was Demeter, the family was richer than most people in Olympus. For her to say this designer is expensive?

I have to fight down a shudder at the idea of spending that much money on clothing. “Like you said, Zeus is footing the bill. Might as well charge up his credit card or whatever.” Clever of Apollo to anticipate that I might dig in my heels if he was the one paying for things. He’ll have known that I don’t give a fuck if I max out Zeus’s credit cards—if such a thing is even possible.

“Perfect.”

Hera walks back into the room, looking smug. “Let’s go.”

Which is how I end up in the back seat of a town car with the two sisters, cruising onto one of the three bridges that connect the upper city with the lower. I’ve never been over the river before. There’s some kind of barrier similar to the one that surrounds the greater city, albeit much weaker. It buzzes lightly across my skin about halfway across the bridge. Supposedly one needs Hades’s permission to cross, but I think it must be more complicated than that. Both women must have standing invitations, seeing as how their sister is married to the man. That must have been enough to get me one as well.