ZEUS
The smell of burnt espresso and stress hangs thick in the air.
Heaven knows I’d rather be anywhere else and honestly, with the way daisy has been blowing up my phone, it makes me wish I hadn’t told her about it at all.
But I had to. It’s part of the plan.
Daisy’s already at the corner booth when I walk in, biting her nails, jittering her knee under the table. Her phone sits on the tabletop like it’s holding her hostage. She sees me, stands too quickly.
“Is Darian okay?” she blurts, voice low and wild.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I glance around the café, students, freelancers, baristas pretending to care. No one’s listening. Good.
I slide into the booth.
She drops down, eyes sharp with desperation. “You said your father, he tortured him. Zeus, what the hell is going
