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Heard me?He was certain he had not said her name.

“Were you listening at my door, Phaedra?” he asked. He worked to control his voice, to keep the anger from seeping into his words.

She knew the consequences of eavesdropping.

“No, I…I promise. I only thought I heard her name as I came down the hall.”

She was lying. He had to quell this. He wondered what was making her so brave.

“You thought?” he asked.

She took a deep and audible breath. “I must have misheard.”

Theseus stood, and as he approached, Phaedra placed her hand on her stomach. Prior to her pregnancy, he would have silenced her with a kiss or even sex, but since, he’d had no interest in fucking her. It did not matter anyway. He’d used sex to keep her, and now the baby would do that for him.

He liked how she tensed as he approached, though, and that made him hard, which was also helpful, because when she noticed, she would think it was her who made him eager to fuck and not her fear.

He touched her chin.

“What have I said about Ariadne?”

Her eyes were glassy. “Theseus,” she whispered, and he hated how she said his name. Perhaps it was because she sounded a lot like her sister, and he thought of how Ariadne once moaned it. “She is my sister—”

“What,” he said, silencing her, his voice loud and then tapering off, “did I say?”

Phaedra stared at him and swallowed hard, unable to keep the tears from welling in her eyes.

Theseus stepped as close as he could, her stomach pressing into him. “Oh, Phaedra,” he whispered and tilted her head back. She winced as his fingers tightened in her dark hair. “What am I to do with you?”

He kissed her forehead.

He knew how Phaedra worked. She melted at the slightest show of affection, the opposite of her sister. Ariadne did not preen beneath soft touches and sweet words. She wanted everything hard and fast and bruising.

He let his hands fall to her shoulders, his mouth near her ear as he spoke quietly. “I wanted to protect you from this, but I suppose I will have to tell you.”

He pulled away and crossed to his desk, picking up the tablet. He handed over the device, showing her the pictures Perseus had sent.

“I have kept my promise to you,” he said. “I have kept track of your sister, and despite my attempted interventions, she’s turned to prostitution. Just tonight, she was spotted in the pleasure district with the god Dionysus.”

He watched Phaedra looking through the photos. After a moment, she whispered, “She doesn’t look like herself.”

“Oh, darling,” he said. “Such is the case with addiction.”

Phaedra put the tablet aside and buried her face in her hands. Theseus stepped up behind her, pulling her against him. His arousal pressed into her ass. The only thing keeping it erect was her pain, and he siphoned it, fueling the blood that rushed to the crown of his cock.

“I am sorry,” he soothed, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck. “I did not wish to tell you. I thought it was better to protect you and the baby.”

“No,” she said, her hands falling to his, which he’d placed around her belly. He cringed as her palms touched his, wet from her tears. “I should not have asked. I knew better than to hope she had reached out to see me.”

She turned in his arms and rested her head against his chest, for which he was glad. He did not think he could muster the ability to appear remorseful any more tonight, his frustration was too acute.

“I know how hard this is for you,” he said. “But you always have me when you have no one else.”

He let her cry for a few moments longer but pulled her away when he grew tired.

“You need rest,” he said, drawing his finger over her wet cheek.

She nodded numbly, but he only cared that she obeyed.