Chapter 5 Darling, Who Is That

Alanna stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, facing Mrs. Potts. Her face was flushed with fake concern.

"I simply must see Mr. Williamson. Athena has likely hurt herself, or him, by now. She needs professional help."

The elevator dinged.

Alanna looked up, a triumphant smirk ready on her lips. She expected to see Athena being dragged out by security.

Instead, the elevator doors slid open to reveal Caesar Williamson.

And behind him, pushing his chair, was Athena.

Alanna's mouth fell open.

Athena looked like the queen of the underworld. Her hair was wet, slicked back. She was wearing a man's grey silk robe that was clearly too big for her. It wasn't just clothing; it was a flag of conquest.

"Mrs. Potts," Athena called out, her voice lazy and bored. "Why is it so loud in my house?"

Mrs. Potts looked from Athena to Caesar, her eyes bulging. She saw the robe. She saw the proximity. She went pale.

"Athena?" Alanna choked out. "Why are you... wearing that?"

Athena brushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead. "Oh, this? Emily broke the water heater in the guest room. Caesar insisted I use his shower."

She lied so smoothly it was almost art.

Caesar sat silently, his expression unreadable. He didn't deny it.

"He... he insisted?" Alanna stammered. "But... you're sick. You're not well." She turned to Caesar, desperation creeping into her tone. "Mr. Williamson, she's having an episode. She belongs in a facility."

Athena let go of the wheelchair handles. She walked around and stood beside Caesar. She bent down, leaning in close. Her wet hair brushed against his ear.

"Darling," she whispered, loud enough for the room to hear. "Am I crazy?"

Her breath was warm on his neck. Caesar's muscles locked up. Every instinct he had told him to push her away, to break the contact. But the audacity of it... it intrigued him.

He looked at Alanna. His eyes were cold enough to freeze hell.

"She is my wife," Caesar said. His voice was flat, final. "And Williamson Manor doesn't answer to outsiders."

He gestured vaguely with one hand. "Derik. Remove her."

"But-" Alanna started.

Derik stepped forward, his bulk imposing. "This way, Miss Madden."

Alanna was herded toward the door like a stray cat. She looked back over her shoulder, her face twisted in humiliation.

Athena waved. A small, wiggling of fingers. "Bye, sister."

The heavy oak doors slammed shut.

The silence returned instantly.

Athena straightened up. The lazy, seductive smile vanished from her face as if a switch had been flipped. She stepped away from Caesar, putting a respectful distance between them.

"Finished acting?" Caesar asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Thanks for playing along," Athena said. "As payment, I'll fix your headache."

Caesar froze. His head had been pounding for hours, a rhythmic thud behind his eyes that usually signaled a long night of insomnia. He hadn't told anyone.

"I don't have a headache," he lied.

Athena ignored him. She stepped behind him again. Before he could react, her cool fingers found his temples.

He flinched, his hand shooting up to grab her wrist. He could snap it. It would be easy.

"Relax," she murmured.

She didn't pull away. She applied pressure, a circular motion that hit the exact trigger point of his agony. It was precise. It was professional.

The relief was instantaneous, startling him. His grip on her wrist loosened. His hand dropped.

He closed his eyes. Just for a second.