7th Circle (Hades Book 1) Read online

  Lucas’s brows shot up in surprise. I instantly regretted getting out of the damn taxi. I should have just dropped him off and continued home. Then again, I was making all kinds of dumb decisions tonight, it seemed.

  "Hades is here tonight?" Lucas asked Zed, looking vaguely worried.

  Amusement flooded the venue manager's face, and his grin stretched so far across his lips I imagined what it'd be like to cut it fucking off. Prick.

  "Oh dear," Zed commented, his tone a step away from actual laughter. "You must be new in Shadow Grove, Lucas."

  My new friend frowned slightly, shooting me a confused look before answering. "Yes, I just moved here from Colorado a few weeks ago."

  Zed let out a bark of a laugh, shaking his head. "Come on this way." He indicated Lucas should follow him as he headed inside the club once more.

  Lucas hesitated, though, looking at me in concern like he didn't want to leave me out there alone while he attended this interview. It was such a sweet display of consideration, and it killed me that all his good qualities would probably be stomped out of his soul before he'd survived a year in Shadow Grove.

  I stifled a sigh, ruffling my fingers through my dark red curls. I knew full fucking well what was coming next, and the only reason I'd allow it to happen was because Zed was one of my oldest friends. Still... he'd pay for this later.

  "You coming, Hades?" the bastard called out to me, smug as fuck. "Or have you already conducted all the auditioning you need?"

  It took a second, but when Lucas clicked the pieces together, I could have died. The hurt and anger that crossed his gorgeous face was almost enough for me to shoot Zed in the fucking kneecap. Mother. Fucker.

  Gritting my teeth, I rolled my shoulders and adopted my normal, harsh, resting bitch face once more. "Lucas is here for a front-of-house job, Zed," I snapped, brushing past both men with my spine ramrod straight. "Nothing more. Come along, then."

  The skin across my shoulders prickled with Lucas's accusing glare as I led the way through the club and up a narrow set of stairs to my office. I didn't let it affect me though. I couldn't afford to. We'd had a fun night and shared a great fuck. That's where our personal interaction ended. If he wanted this job—and I knew he did—then that was all we would ever have.

  I didn't sleep with my employees. Not ever.

  Not until tonight.

  Dammit. I needed to get my shit together. I was a successful, twenty-three-year-old businesswoman and the head of a crime syndicate. I was a cold-blooded killer and a merciless bitch to anyone who crossed me.

  To everyone who'd met me or heard of me in the years since my family's near massacre, I was all of those things rolled into one intimidating, fear-inducing name.

  Hades. The leader of the Tri-State Timberwolves.

  3

  My office wasn’t anything fancy, just a small room with a desk, two chairs, and some filing cabinets. Hell, it wasn’t even really my office. I only worked on-site for new openings, and when they were on their feet with all the teething pains ironed out—usually around six months after opening—I’d move on to my next project.

  It’d been almost a year since we opened 7th Circle, but since I was running into all kinds of setbacks with the next club, I still used my office in the mezzanine of 7th Circle.

  I sat down at the chair behind my desk, not saying a word. Years ago, I’d discovered how easily intimidated people could be by silence and an unblinking stare. I didn’t need to threaten, insult, or curse. My silence did all the work for me in unnerving people.

  Zed—that infuriating fuck—knew how I operated. He was the one who conducted interviews and auditions, not me. He just wanted to ruin my damn night by outing me like that when Lucas clearly had no clue who he was getting involved with. Had he known, he never would have hit on me in the first place. I was too damn scary.

  “Take a seat, Lucas,” Zed offered, indicating to one of the chairs in front of my desk.

  The model-gorgeous man just stood behind the chairs, glaring at me with accusation and betrayal clear across his face. He’d need to work on that.

  I let out an annoyed sigh. “Sit down, Lucas.” My voice cracked with authority, and his face tightened in anger. But still, he did as he was told and slowly sank into a vacant seat.

  That was a point in his favor, at least. He recognized when he needed to obey a command.

  Zed didn’t take the spare seat, instead opting to perch on the side of my desk. His designer suit was as impeccable as always, but his tie was missing and the top button of his shirt was undone. No doubt he’d been about to head off with whatever girl he was seeing this week before he decided to fuck up my night instead.

  He reached over to the pile of employment applications in the middle of my desk—applications I hadn’t even gone through yet—and pulled Lucas’s from the top.

  “Okay. Lucas Wilder,” Zed started in a dry tone, “let’s see. Twenty-one years old, recently moved from Colorado, no criminal history, no dependents, and”—Zed paused, dramatic as hell—“no prior work experience. Can you tell me why you want to work at 7th Circle?”

  Lucas didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on me, burning with anger like I’d somehow deliberately misled him. Okay, sure. That’s what I’d done. But so fucking what? He’d gotten to screw the infamous Hades in a storeroom. There were wannabe gangsters—and fully blooded ones—all over this side of the country who would cut their own fingers off for a chance to get in my panties.

  But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Lucas wasn’t a gangster. He was just a nice guy who needed money desperately enough that he’d consider whoring.

  “Okay, this is going well,” Zed muttered, throwing Lucas’s application back down on my desk and turning to give me a meaningful glare. I just met his eyes with a cool gaze, and he turned back to our prospective employee. “Can you even dance?”

  Lucas pushed his chair back abruptly, surging to his feet.

  “This was a bad idea,” he spat, but the way he met my eyes implied he meant more than just applying for the job. Ouch. If I still had my soul, that one might hurt.

  He started to leave the office, and I let out a small groan of frustration. I was about to do something stupid again.

  “Lucas, don’t be an idiot,” I snapped, the sound of my voice freezing him with his hand on the doorknob. “You need the job. Stripping at 7th Circle pays double what whoring for Dick’s does, so swallow your fucking pride and take the job.”

  “Who says he has the job?” Zed muttered under his breath, but I shut him up with a scathing glare.

  Lucas hadn’t moved from his position, and I knew he was in a bad situation. Damn it all to hell, I genuinely wanted to help him. What the fuck was wrong with me? Had someone spiked my drink?

  “Lucas,” I said again. “You won’t get a better job in Shadow Grove. Not with that resume.”

  His shoulders rose as he drew a deep breath, then he turned back around to face us with a look of hard determination on his face. “I suppose I should be grateful, then? Is that how you audition all your new employees?”

  Zed let out a small sound, like he was almost impressed by this guy’s balls. No one spoke to me in that tone, then lived to tell the tale.

  Yet here I was, not even mad about it. Fucking hell, maybe that rejection from Cass had broken something in my mind.

  “Zed, give us a minute.” My voice was cool and calm, unemotional.

  My oldest friend and most trusted associate slipped off the edge of my desk without a question and clapped Lucas on the shoulder as he passed. “It was nice knowing you, kid. You’ll make a pretty corpse.” He chuckled at his own dark humor as he left the office, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Lucas’s determined expression faltered a moment, showing a flash of fear, and I swallowed an irritated sigh. Fucking Zed was such a shit stirrer, and he was getting worse by the day, always pushing my damn buttons like only he could.

  “What did he mean by that?” Luca
s asked into the silence filling the room. “Are you going to kill me now or something?”

  I let one of my copper brows rise as I sat forward, my fingers linked on the desktop. “It wouldn’t be the first time I shot someone for disrespecting me.”

  Fear flickered across his face, and for the first time in forever, that emotion gave me no satisfaction. I just felt like an asshole, and I hated that feeling. Fuck me, what had I been thinking scratching my orgasm itch on this innocent petal?

  Oh yeah, that's right. I'd been thinking that Cass embarrassed the hell out of me, making me feel like a stupid, lovesick little girl, and I wanted to get back at him. I wanted to take back control and remind Cass exactly who he was dealing with. I was Hades, not some drugged-out gang-whore.

  The only downside to that plan? The stricken look on Lucas's gorgeous face right now. Fuck.

  I heaved a sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. I was too drunk for this bullshit—and the earful Zed would no doubt give me when Lucas was gone. Maybe the solution was to drink more.

  Reaching into my desk drawer, I pulled out a bottle of scotch and twisted the cap off. Not looking at Lucas, I took a long swig straight from the bottle, then closed my eyes and prayed for some sanity. But if there was a god, he or she had abandoned me a long time ago, so it was no surprise to receive no response.

  "Lucas," I tried again. I let my long lashes flicker open and found him staring straight at me. Damn, that was unnerving. He didn't look at me with the wary respect I'd grown used to. He looked at me like I was a woman who'd just punched him in the balls for no good reason.

  "Hayden," he replied, his voice soft and hurt.

  My heart squeezed, and I shook my head. "Don't ever call me that again," I told him in a quiet voice, hating myself all the more. "It's Hades and nothing else. Got it?"

  His brow creased, but he jerked a nod. "Got it." His tone was full of bitterness and anger.

  I took another sip of Scotch, but there wasn't enough liquor in the world, it seemed. "I'm giving you a job, Lucas. Don't be a fucking idiot and throw it away over your hurt feelings. Believe me when I say you don't want to work at Dick's."

  His expression hardened. "Is that how you interview all your potential staff?" he asked, his tone scathing. "You take them all for a test ride and only give them the job if they make you come?"

  I slammed my bottle down on the desk with a crack and gave Lucas a hard glare. "Watch your fucking tone, Lucas. You have no clue who you're dealing with."

  Fury flared in his eyes, and I could practically smell the desire to snap back at me. But his better sense won out, and his lips tightened, holding his insults at bay.

  Smart boy.

  "For your information, tonight was a one-time lapse in judgment after a shitty day, and it won't happen again. Once you're an employee of Copper Wolf Enterprises, you'll barely even see me again, let alone... anything more. I don't screw my staff. Not ever." I was firm on that rule. My position of power was strong, but even the strongest of leaders had been toppled after trusting the wrong person. Just ask my father, buried with my blade in his back.

  Lucas's brow dipped with a frown. "I won't ever see you again?"

  I shrugged. "I'm moving on soon to work on one of my new clubs; Zed will run this one until he appoints a manager. I’ll still come in occasionally to meet with business colleagues, but I certainly won't be here in any capacity as your boss, if that's what you're concerned about. I won't leverage my position to abuse yours."

  His lips tightened, like that assurance had just angered him further.

  I sighed, out of ideas. "Right, well. You're an adult, Lucas; you can make your own choices. Take the job or don't. But you won't get a better offer, and you damn well know it." I pulled a standard dancer contract from my filing cabinet and slapped it down on the desk in front of him. "Read it over. If you want the job, fill it in with your details and sign it. Simple as that. Zed will be back in ten minutes to see what you've decided."

  I stood up from my desk and headed for the door, then turned to look at him over my shoulder. "A colleague always tells me: Make smart choices. I feel like you need that advice right now."

  Lucas looked up at me, one brow raised. "What if I want to take the night to think on this? Can I sign it tomorrow?"

  I gave another shrug. "If that's what you want."

  A wicked smile crossed his lips. "So, if I'm not your employee until tomorrow... does that offer to go back to your place still stand?"

  Surprise jolted through me. He still wanted to fuck, even knowing who I was? Or because of who I was? Ugh, this was the whole problem with my notoriety; it was impossible to know who was interested in me, Hayden, and not me, Hades. So I just used men and cast them aside before feelings could get involved.

  Biting back a smile, I shook my head. "Sorry, that offer dissolved the second Zed outed me." I nodded to the contract. "Make smart choices, Lucas."

  Leaving my office, I found Zed waiting in the hallway. He arched a brow at me, but I ignored him and made my way back downstairs to the bar. I needed more alcohol to numb all my bad decisions of the night.

  "You know that's a fake name, don't you?" Zed asked as he followed me. "Lucas Wilder. Total fabrication."

  I snorted a laugh, slid onto a barstool, and patted the one beside me for Zed to sit down. "Of course it is," I replied. "Just like Aphrodite up there." I smiled and waved to the beautiful blonde working the stage in a glittery G-string and a pair of devil wings.

  Zed huffed but picked up the drink our bartender placed in front of him. "Was he a decent fuck at least? He's pretty enough to work upstairs."

  I choked on my martini. Fuck. Why did the idea of Lucas whoring in my VIP rooms turn my stomach so much? It wasn't like I was ever revisiting that avenue, and he'd make bank with that massive dick of his.

  "Front of house only, Zed," I growled. "Don't fucking test me."

  My second just gave me a wry smile. "Yes, sir. You're the boss."

  I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink. "Damn right." Not that Zed ever offered me the same fearful respect as everyone else. Not when we were alone, anyway. We'd known each other too long, and he knew I'd let him get away with almost anything, including calling me sir in that teasing way of his. No one else ever knew he was mocking me; they just assumed it was what I wanted to be addressed as. It’d caught on way too effectively, too.

  Apparently executing a brutal, bloodthirsty massacre and personally slitting my father’s throat hadn't done shit to change the teasing dynamic between my best friend and me.

  Well, not drastically, anyway. Zed and I were a long way from the close friends we used to be. He held a certain level of caution around me now, knowing how easily I killed. Everyone did.

  Neither of us spoke for a few moments, then Zed ran his fingertip around the rim of his glass. "So. Cass, huh?"

  I cringed. "Shut up." Of course he wasn’t going to let that embarrassing blunder be swept under the rug.

  Zed's lips tilted in a teasing smile. "I just never picked him as your type. He's old and a gang leader."

  I gave him a glare. "He's not old. He’s only eleven years older than me—eight years older than you—and in case you forgot, I'm also a gang leader."

  "Well, yeah. Exactly my point. You start fucking Cass and the Reapers are going to start getting too big for their boots, you know? We've got a good balance going with the Reapers and the Wraiths." The don't fuck it up was implied.

  Those two gangs had owned Shadow Grove for two generations, and normally having my Timberwolves moving in on their town would be cause for an all-out gang war. Luckily for me, I owned all their asses. The Timberwolves held a tight strangle hold over all money laundering across three states. Without keeping favor with me and mine, they’d have a shitty time trying to clean their dirty money.

  Obviously, I knew it wasn’t smart to rock the boat now that we’d established a balance in power. But I also couldn't help the fact that I'd been fantasizing about lick
ing Cass all over for way too damn long.

  "Besides," Zed continued, clearly not finished berating my stupidity just yet, "he's so foul tempered all the damn time. In five years I don't think I've seen him smile once."

  I had, though. Once. The first time I met him, when he didn't know who I was. He'd checked out my tits and smiled. Then I'd introduced myself as Hades and that was that.

  "He looks like he'd be crazy rough in bed," I murmured, then cringed when I realized it hadn't stayed inside my own head.

  This time it was Zed's turn to choke on his drink. "What?" he asked, blinking at me like I'd grown an extra head.

  "What?" I shrugged. "I don't judge you for your kinks." Like how he loved fucking women in wildly public places where they could easily be seen. And were.

  Zed just stared, then shook his head in disbelief and sipped his drink. "I never picked you for a sub, Hades. You legitimately ooze big dick energy worse than any gangster I've met. I can't imagine you giving up control in any situation."

  I sighed. "Sometimes, Zed, I get tired. Sometimes I need a break from being me." I paused then added. "Doesn't make me a sub, though. Only makes me want Cass to throw me around his bedroom."

  Zed grinned, saying nothing back.

  "What happened to your pretty, young blonde of the week anyway?" I asked him, turning the tables. "Anastasia, right?"

  He glared back at me. "Annika."

  "Same thing," I teased. Of course I knew her name; I knew all of their names. But it annoyed Zed to no end when I pretended otherwise, so I kept doing it. "So? You're usually out with her at this time of night, aren't you? How come you're still here?"

  Zed gave me a sideways glance. "Reasons. Besides, I'm getting bored of her. She keeps making noises about wanting to move into my place, so I think that relationship has run its course."

  I snickered. If Annika moved into Zed's place, she'd pretty quickly work out that Zed didn't actually understand the concept of monogamy.