Chapter 4

                                        

                                              
Zeus
Zoe Stavrakos stood in the doorway of the dining hall, and the room went silent.
She was late but confident, wearing a dress that should have been illegal.
Red. A dangerous red. Designed to make men weak.
For a split second, I forgot to breathe. Then I pulled myself together. It was just a normal reaction, nothing more. Any hot-blooded man would notice Zoe in that dress—it showed her curves, the slit was sky high, and her silky brown hair flowed down her shoulders.
It was biology, not emotions. 
She wasn't special, just an ex from another lifetime—a bad memory.
I watched as Zoe's eyes scanned the room, her eyes flickering over the guests.
Then our gazes met.
And something shifted inside me.
It was a flicker—a tiny flicker. Something unwanted and something I refused to name, much like when I'd run into her in the hallway earlier in just her robe.
No.
I clenched my jaw, my grip on my glass tightening.
This is nothing. Just a normal reaction when you see someone you used to—
Used to what, Zeus?
Dammit. 
What the hell is wrong with me? It had been eight years. We were no longer the same people as we were in high school.
I pushed the thought away.
"Ah, Zoe," John said, breaking the silence. "We're delighted you could join us for dinner."
"I wouldn't miss this for anything," she said, turning her back to me. "I'm sorry I'm late. I overslept."
"It's alright, dear," Margaret reassured her with a tender smile. "We know you're exhausted from your flight."
John told Zoe to take a seat. 
Her seat was the one right beside me. Except she couldn't sit there, because someone had already taken her place.
Ivy Lecter.
She'd slid into the seat a few minutes earlier, thinking Zoe wouldn't show up. 
So instead, Zoe took the only empty chair left at the far end of the table, next to Oliver Edwards.
Yeah, Oliver fucking Edwards.
Heir of the Edwards Winery and one of England's most eligible bachelors. The internet labelled him as a real-life prince charming, a proper gentleman, blah...blah...blah. The type of guy mothers dreamed of for their daughters. 
Whatever.
Ivy touched my arm and leaned in. "She's embarrassing. Imagine? We're waiting for her to start dinner. Who is she, by the way?"
I took a deep sigh and rolled my shoulders back. "A VIP guest."
Ivy brows furrowed for just a moment, not liking what she heard. But then she plastered on a smile and added, "Anyway, did I mention I just got back from a modeling job in Asia? The flight took forever, 18 hours! But I'm here early, despite the jet lag."
"Hmm, not sure," I said, staring straight ahead at Zoe as Oliver leaned toward her. "But you mentioned your coffee addiction."
"I did? Oh, I just love drinking coffee. It keeps me awake." She laughed and playfully hit my arm.