The Good Side of Wrong – Blurred Lines Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors: Jenika Snow Advertisement

Advertisement

I’d much prefer to stay in my bedroom and read rather than force a smile until my cheeks hurt and my jaw ached.

But it was my grandfather’s birthday, something that was celebrated yearly, like some kind of national treasure.

Michael Cronus was the well-known CEO of Cronus Enterprises. I’d heard about their company so much growing up that I could have recited the company slogan in my sleep. A consumer loan market company that they’d streamlined and incorporated into an online presence. They were so well known, so established all over the globe, that they helped approve loans faster than banks. And because of their success, Cronus Enterprises was a multibillion-dollar powerhouse.

I spied my grandfather standing by the fireplace. He brought his crystal-cut glass to his mouth as others spoke around him. When he lifted his head and his gaze locked on mine, I felt nothing but detachment. He had a heart as hard and cold as a slab of granite.

And I was pretty sure he didn’t have an ounce of love for me.

I heard high-pitched laughter surround me as I weaved my way through the party and made my way out onto the balcony. I shut the door behind me softly and walked over toward the stone banister that overlooked the grounds.

I leaned against the railing just as the wind picked up, ruffling the carefully styled ringlets my mother had curled for me earlier in the day. I heard another round of laughter and looked over my shoulder.

The large windows allowed me to see into the ballroom. With marble flooring and dark oak accents, a grand fireplace that always seemed to be lit, and the crystal chandelier that hung from the center of the arched ceiling, it was possibly the most beautiful room in our home.

But that was where the beautiful aesthetics of it ended. Because, although it was gorgeous with no expense spared, when you stepped inside, you felt nothing but a cold rigidness suffocating you.

I had to imagine this was what happened when you had so much wealth you never had to worry about money. The rich bought items without a care or much thought. They weren’t loved or cherished. These things were purchased to sit on a pedestal for others to look at and admire, to bask in a momentary bout of pleasure.

Even at eleven years old, I knew money didn’t bring you happiness. It didn’t buy you friends or love. It gave you loneliness. And I could see that in all the guests’ eyes.

I spotted my mother and father in the far corner of the room, my mother perfectly dressed with her hair coiled up in a chignon, the pearl necklace I’d given her for Mother’s Day two years ago draped around her neck.

My father stood beside her in his custom tailored Armani suit, his arm wrapped around her waist as he kept her snugly against his side.

They loved each other. It was genuine. I could see it in the way they looked at each other. Which was why I could never understand why my parents insisted on throwing these gatherings, why they didn’t tell all these people to kick rocks.

“Money buys ties, allegiances. It gives you security. Remember that, Persephone. Remember that as long as you have money, you have power. As if you have power, you control the world.”

I’d felt weird hearing my father say that, had seen something flash in his eyes that had seemed foreign, as if a stranger was speaking to me.

He told me that phrase constantly, like he wanted to instill that in me, to let me know that although money wasn’t everything… it was.

I faced forward again, looking at the fairy lights twisting around white pillars that the landscaping staff had just hung that morning. The gardens had been trimmed, not a weed in sight, and the lawn was cut perfectly with thick greenery all around.

“Bunch of pompous assholes.”

The deep voice that came from behind startled me, and I jumped, turning around. But I saw nothing but shadows.

“I can’t stand these fucking parties.”

I didn’t have to see who spoke to know who it was. “Then why come?” I let my gaze scan the patio before I made out a cloud of smoke rising from the corner. My eyes adjusted, and I finally saw the large shape of a man sitting down.

My—adopted into the family—uncle. Hades Cronus. He would have been called the black sheep of the family if I hadn’t heard them use more colorful words to describe him.

Hades leaned forward and braced his forearms on his thighs, bringing his cigar to his mouth as he took a drag from it. “Maybe I’m more of a masochist than a sadist.” He blew out the smoke, still staring at me. “Being around all of them makes me feel like I’m suffocating.” I saw a flash of white as he smiled after he spoke. “Only positive note is they’re all afraid of me.” He stayed quiet. “And I enjoy smelling the fear coming from them.”

Advertisement