Aphrodite Kensington is a lot of things.
She's a princess, the life of the party, most skilled in combat, she's the strongest . . .
She's a liar.
Not only had she convinced herself that her lie was true, she convinced her family of it too. She nev...
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"What are you doing here?" I asked, staring into the face of my mother. Lydia sat in a chair, facing the doorway. Her legs were crossed, she held a gun in her hand and there was a glass of wine on the side table next to her.
"Where else would I be?" She asked dumbly, but the twitch as in her lips gave her away.
"You planned this," Aphrodite said from beside me.
"This was far from my original plan. Azra just had to open her big mouth, didn't she? I told her parents to get a handle on her." Lydia shook her head in disapproval. "I am disappointed though. I thought you would have come with Atlas. You two are attached at the hip. But that's alright." She resigns. "Ares and the others here will do."
Aphrodite moves forward, a furious look on her face. She looks up at me after I grip her wrist, stopping her from getting any closer.
"If you lay a finger on any of them, there will be consequences." I grit out.
"Oh Ares, you're adorable when you're mad." She smiles, sending an invoulentary shiver down my spine. "Who's to say I haven't already killed them? Pedro and his pathetic mother? Nikolai?"
"I am going to kill you!" Aphrodite screams, her face flushed with anger.
"How many times have you said that, yet I'm still standing here?" She taunts, but we could say the same to her. "When will you understand that I will always win? You have no control here, darling."
"Where are they?" I ask.
"If you'd step out from the hallway and into the living room, you'd know where they are."
Aphrodite rips herself from my grasp and rushes into the room. I follow after her, taking in the scene in front of us. Three of Lydia's men are in the room. Each one stands behind Niki, Pedro, and lastly Nathalie. A gun pressed against each of their temples. Tears stream down their cheeks, but none of them move, nor do they make a sound.
"Why are you doing this?" My sister asks, a defeated tone in her voice, but I knew better. Aphrodite was faking.
"Does there have to be a reason, my butterfly?" Lydia responds, getting up from her chair to stand in front of Aphrodite. She reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Aphrodites' ear, and that's when I see a tear run down her cheek.
"We've never done anything to you," Aphrodite made her voice sound choked up, and if I didn't know her so well, I'd think she was actually upset.
