Please be advised that this story may contain content which could be upsetting to some readers.
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Annabeth Chase grew up, all alone, under the ruthless watch of Kronos, otherwise known as 'The king of T...
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She couldn't keep going like this, having no energy left in her. She was vastly outnumbered
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Annabeth felt nothing but rage as she made her way towards the bar.
Luke had specifically instructed the staff and drivers not to let her out of sight. Though, they should be better at their jobs since she managed to slip off without alerting a single soul.
She'd also assumed a 30-minute walk would be enough for her to gather her thoughts and come up with a plan of action, but that was not the case.
She was still furious that Luke practically decided to sell her off, so he could lick Kronos's boots. And was angry at herself for not seeing through that facade of a dinner.
The 'Bacchus Bar' was a small pub within a barren alleyway, a common hangout for those who would rather avoid the law. Filled with mostly lowlifes and thugs, it was the perfect place for Octavian and his posse to hand out.
The familiar smell of beer and sweat hit her as soon as she swung the door open, looking upon the scarcely populated room. A few men were asleep by the tables and on the floor, their clothes and hair dishevelled as they reeked of alcohol.
Women flaunted themselves by the entrance, awaiting a man to sweep them off their feet, for a steep price of course. Nothing was a free thing In this world.
Annabeth scanned the room for Octavian and his gang. They sat at the back end of the room at a rather large table, surrounded by poker chips and half-naked women.
"Octavian," she greeted, letting out a low exhale, making her way towards them, "I need a word."
She noted her never be fiancé. A perhaps, tall and rather pale-looking blond, with lipstick smeared across his face. He reeked of alcohol and misogyny.
