The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

50. Chapter 50

fifty

Alexander

I rushed Quinn out the door, closing it shut. I hurried us both to my room. I needed to ensure Quinn was safe and settled before I returned and dealt withIrish. I wanted to know why he called Quinn—Athena. Does he know who Athena is? The same Athena I rescued over a year ago.

Closing the door to my room, I dragged Quinn to my bed. I gently pushed her down onto the mattress, crawling on top of her. My hands cupped her face as my thumb caressed her cheek.

"I love you," I whispered against her lips a second before I claimed them.

"I need to go help my brothers. Stay here," I kissed her forehead.

"Please," I pleaded, getting off the bed as I stood before her.

She nodded her head and kissed my lips. "Are you going to lock me in again?" she pointed out, giving me the you better not think about it look .

"I won't lock you in, but please stay here until I return, okay?" She nodded.

"Okay," she whispered.

"How did you even get out?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow. She gave me a sheepish smile before she giggled.

"They aren't dead, just so you know, tied up, maybe even passed out," she confessed, taking a seat at the edge of my bed. What the hell was I going to do with her?

"Alexander," she yelled as I almost reached the door; I turned to face her.

"Don't think I forgot. You have some explaining to do," she reminded me.

Bloody hell!

Irish was seated with his head between his knees, and his guards were no longer inside the office. "Speak," I demanded as soon as the door shut behind me. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, and it killed him to be this emotional. He averted his gaze and let his head fall, his gaze now focused towards the floor.

Deimos was on the verge of making an appearance. He was tempted. I wanted to watch him bleed for calling Quinn— Athena. The beast inside me saw him as a threat. I wanted his blood dripping down my hands and his heart beating between my fingers. I wanted to end the Don of the Irish fucking mafia.

When we first started dating, I wasn't planning on Quinn ever meeting the darkness inside me. She was too innocent for that side. The murderer in me didn't want to corrupt her, but man, was I wrong. My Quinn was just as terrifying as Deimos. Maybe that's why we belonged together. When she told me she loved him.

It enraged me.

It angered me.

I knew she loved us both, but I wanted her to love me more. I wanted her to love Alexander Hades, not Deimos, the God of terror. But Deimos helped me get her back into my life. Her obsession with Deimos provided me with the perfect opportunity to watch her, protect her, and love her.

I still needed to find the person who sent Freddy to kill Quinn.

"I said SPEAK," I snarled—too late. Deimos was out to play .

"Athena was trafficked…maybe even dead," he continued to whisper almost to himself. How does he know Athena?

"Who is she?" He demanded, standing from the chair abruptly.

"That's none of your damn business. What I want to know is why the hell you called her Athena?"

I didn't want him to know about Athena. Since I didn't know him, I didn't trust him.

"The story I told you, gentlemen, earlier was about a girl I met over twenty years ago. Her name was Athena—" he paused, taking a deep breath. "Athena's full name is Cara Athena Connor. She was the only woman I ever loved," he disclosed.

Holy Fucking Shit!

My brothers looked at me with wide eyes, just like my own.

He just became untouchable to Deimos' wrath.

Untouchable to Alexander motherfucking Hades.