Vipers Are Forbidden (Gods Among Men #3) Read Online Alta Hensley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Gods Among Men Series by Alta Hensley
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
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“Ready?” I ask Athena, and she pulls the zip ties out of her back pocket with a bright crazy smile like a little psychopath.

God, I really am falling in love with this girl.

They wake within the hour, all tied to chairs in the library.

“What the fuck?” Heph slurs. It makes sense he wakes first; he is the biggest, and we gave them all the same dose. Perseus after that. He and Paris both wake swearing and making threats.

I stand off to the side, out of sight. This is Athena’s show. I will step in when I am needed. If I am needed.

“Hello, gentlemen. I have a few questions, then I will be happy to let you go.” She speaks in a calm, almost professional tone. “Which one of you killed my mother?”

“Let us go, you stupid bitch,” Perseus yells.

My fists tighten. I don’t like him calling her names, but I stay where I am.

“Sure, I’ll cut you free just as soon as you answer my question. Which one of you switched my mother’s medication to poison?”

“Nobody.” Heph grunts, trying to pull the zip ties apart. It will never happen. There are eight ties on his arms alone. I may have gone a tad overboard. I just didn’t trust him not to hurt Athena. Not after we drugged and tied up Perseus.

“Athena, angel, let me go. You know I didn’t do this,” Paris says, and I can’t help the scoff that comes out of my mouth.

Paris turns as much as he is able in his chair, and I step into the light.

“What the fuck!” Perseus screams.

“Traitor,” Heph roars, and I pull a gun out of the back of my pants. I won’t use it. Probably.

“Tell her,” I demand, looking at the gun. “Tell them all what you did to the woman who we all considered a mother.”

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Athena

I freeze when Eros pulls the gun from the back of his pants and takes over. He is pacing around like a caged tiger with all tight lean muscles and determination. He is in complete control of the room, and it is the sexiest thing I have ever seen.

I should be pissed that he took over. This is supposed to be my interrogation. But the way he is moving, I decide to take a seat and see what is going to happen. Sometimes it’s better to watch and learn, let someone else do the dirty work and jump in when it benefits me.

“Freya pulled all of us out of our own personal hell. We were each lost, abused, and unwanted. She gave us a home, a purpose, and a mother’s love. Who did this?” Eros’s voice rises with each word until he is practically screaming, his face is turning red and the thick vein in his forehead is pulsing in time with the tendons in his neck.

The room is silent. Each of them giving piercing glares at Eros as he paces like a general before his soldiers.

“Tell me which of you betrayed the only person who ever gave a shit about any of us.” He lowers his voice to a deadly whisper as he cocks the gun.

I glance at each of the men, trying to read their expressions, looking for some sign of weakness or doubt. Some guilt, something. All I see are matching expressions of rage. I can’t tell if they are angry they were drugged and tied up, angry because they think Eros betrayed them, or angry they have been caught.

“Put the gun down and untie us now,” Perseus says between gritted teeth.

“I will happily let you all go as soon as I find out which one of you betrayed us,” Eros snaps back. “I will have my confession.”

“Oh, I don’t know how about the one who drugged us and tied us all to fucking chairs,” Heph booms. His face is turning flushed from trying to pull at the zip ties. If he breaks free, I think it’s fair to say that Eros is a dead man.

“I need to hear the traitor say it. Admit what you did,” Eros says, staring at the floor this time. His voice is still low, quiet, and somehow far more menacing than when he is shouting.

I grew up knowing about every part of my father’s business. How it runs, who runs it, and what tools are used both above board and far below. I have spent my fair share of time around violent men, and I have watched them work, with everything from curiosity, boredom and sometimes when I was much younger, fear.

My father raised me to know what these kinds of men are capable of, not only to keep myself safe, but so I know what was needed and what is expected of the next head of the family. I refuse to shy away from the less ladylike aspects of reality because of a weaker disposition. That being said, I have never seen a man quite like Eros in charge.



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