Post-Concert Blues Pt. 2

The dorm room is unusually quiet when you push the door open, the familiar creak echoing in the space. For a moment, you think Liam might not be back yet, but then your eyes land on him—sitting on the couch, casually slouched as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Except he’s not alone.

Your breath catches as you see her. Aphrodite, but not as the radiant, commanding goddess she was in earlier visits. This time, she’s taken on a form that is entirely different yet no less mesmerizing. Her long, wavy hair spills over her shoulders , catching the dim dorm light with an almost otherworldly sheen. Her face is heart-shaped, with high cheekbones, a delicate nose, and pouty lips painted a deep, sultry red. Her eyes—golden and unnervingly piercing—shift to you with an air of cool indifference the moment you step in.

She’s wearing a sleek, burgundy silk dress that clings to her body like a second skin, the plunging neckline leaving little to the imagination. A slit runs up one side, revealing a tantalizing expanse of leg that she crosses deliberately as she leans toward Liam, her manicured fingers casually resting on his arm. She looks like she stepped out of a luxury fashion editorial, her presence both alluring and suffocating.

Liam, to his credit, doesn’t seem fazed. He’s sitting with one arm draped over the back of the couch, his expression a mix of mild amusement and thinly veiled irritation.

“Ah, finally,” Aphrodite drawls, her voice rich and velvety but laced with irritation as her gaze lands on you. “The star of the show has arrived.”

You blink, still processing the scene before you. Liam, sitting there like nothing’s wrong, while the literal goddess of love is practically draped over him?

“What the hell is going on here?” you ask, shutting the door behind you.

“Just a little... chat,” Aphrodite says smoothly, though her earlier warmth seems to evaporate the moment you speak. She leans back slightly, her fingers leaving Liam’s arm as she gives you a once-over. The shift in her demeanor is subtle but unmistakable—like a cat bored of its prey.

Liam smirks, gesturing lazily toward Aphrodite. “She’s been filling me in on all the ways she’s not a fan of you.”

Aphrodite’s lips curve into a **** smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic, darling. I was merely congratulating him on completing the second trial. Impressively done, really.”

Her tone is sweet, but the way she says it makes your skin crawl.

“Well, thanks, I guess?” you reply warily, stepping further into the room.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she says, folding her arms. The silk of her dress shifts with the motion, shimmering like liquid fire. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d get this far so quickly. But you’ve surprised me. And…” Her lips twitch into a sly grin. “You’ve managed to do it in such… entertaining ways.”

Liam raises an eyebrow at her, his tone dry. “You’ve got a twisted sense of ‘entertainment.’”

Aphrodite ignores him, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as they flick back to you. “Congratulations are in order, though. You’re done with Marcus Chase.”

Your brow furrows. “Done? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she says, leaning forward slightly, “you’ll never have to… how should I put this delicately… get on your knees for him again.”

The heat rises in your face instantly, and you can’t help but glance at Liam, who looks equally bewildered.

“What the hell are you talking about? He still has my number, he could hit me up anytime.” you blurt out.

Aphrodite rolls her eyes, her elegant façade slipping for just a moment. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Don’t tell me you haven’t been keeping up with the news.”

Liam straightens, his smirk fading. “News?”

With a dramatic sigh, Aphrodite gestures toward your phone. “Go ahead. Look it up. I’ll wait.”

Your stomach twists as you pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling slightly as you open the browser and type in his name. The results flood in immediately—headlines, gossip articles, and even video clips.

“‘Marcus Chase and Mystery Woman Spotted at Concert,’” you read aloud, your voice faltering as the words sink in.

Aphrodite’s grin widens as she watches your reaction.

You scroll further, clicking on one of the articles. The accompanying photo shows a blurry but unmistakable image: Marcus sitting in a private box, and beside him… a woman with long hair, her head lowered in an all-too-intimate position.

Your blood runs cold.

“No way,” you mutter, your fingers tightening around your phone.

“Oh, it gets better,” Aphrodite coos, clearly reveling in your discomfort. “Check the video. Some creep with an industrial-strength zoom lens managed to capture the… highlights of your little moment together.”

Liam shifts uncomfortably beside her, his jaw tightening. “This is insane.”

You find the video, your heart pounding as you hit play. The footage is shaky and grainy, but it’s clear enough to recognize Marcus—and the woman whose actions are front and center. Even though the details are blurred, it’s obvious what’s happening.

Your stomach churns, and you can’t stop yourself from snapping the phone shut, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“Congratulations,” Aphrodite says again, her tone sickly sweet. “You’ve officially gone viral. The talk of the tabloids. And, most importantly…” Her expression sharpens, her golden eyes glittering with triumph. “Marcus Chase’s little escapade with you means he’s no longer going to talk to you, or Victoria. Consider him officially removed from Victoria’s life.”

You don’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. Instead, you drop onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as the weight of everything crashes down.

The dorm room feels heavier after the revelation about Marcus. You’re still trying to process the idea that the entire internet has seen... that, when Aphrodite shifts on the couch, drawing your attention back to her with an elegant snap of her fingers.

“Alright,” she says, her voice suddenly brisk, as though she’s a manager pulling a **** employee into a performance review. “Let’s not dwell too long on past triumphs. You’ve done well, but there’s no time for rest. Trial three awaits.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Can’t I get a break? I’ve barely recovered from trial two.”

Liam folds his arms, glaring at Aphrodite. “Maybe ease up on the theatrics for once. You’ve clearly put enough on his plate already.”

Aphrodite laughs, a light, mocking sound. “Oh, sweetheart, do you think this is hard? That was child’s play.” She leans forward, her golden eyes gleaming as they lock onto you. “If you thought Marcus Chase was a challenge, you’re going to love this next one.”

Your stomach sinks. “What now?”

She straightens, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her dress. “The next trial involves seducing a man of a… different sort.” Her lips curl into a wicked grin. “Meet Damian Kane.”

At the name, the air seems to shift. Even Liam sits up a little straighter, the casual confidence he usually exudes giving way to something closer to unease.

“Who the hell is Damian Kane?” you ask, bracing yourself.

Aphrodite tilts her head, her hair catching the light like molten gold. “A young, brilliant CEO. Self-made billionaire. Ares’ personal protégé and one of his favorites.” Her voice takes on a sharp edge as she says Ares’ name, her expression darkening. “And he’s going to be your next target.”

Liam frowns. “Wait, hold on. Ares? As in the god of war? That Ares?”

Aphrodite rolls her eyes. “Yes, that Ares. The testosterone-fueled meathead who thinks brute **** solves everything.” She waves a dismissive hand. “He’s been grooming Damian for years, turning him into his perfect little warlord in the corporate world. The man’s practically a shrine to everything Ares holds dear: dominance, ambition, and the utter rejection of anything remotely soft or ****.”

You can’t help but grimace. “And you want me to seduce that guy?”

Aphrodite’s grin returns, sharp and gleaming. “Oh, absolutely. Convincing Damian Kane to fall for you—romantically and sexually—would shatter Ares’ precious image of him. It’d be delicious.”

Liam snorts. “So this isn’t about the trial at all. It’s just another one of your petty feuds.”

Aphrodite fixes him with a glare that could melt steel. “This is about the trial.” Her tone softens, but it doesn’t lose its edge. “But yes, I’ll admit, I’m not entirely unbiased here. Ares and I… let’s just say our history is complicated. Every few centuries, we think it’ll work out, only to remember why we drive each other insane. I’m sure you can imagine the fallout.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall. “Okay, so Damian’s this ultra-masculine, Ares-worshipping businessman. Got it. But how exactly am I supposed to seduce him? Just flutter my lashes and hope for the best?”

Aphrodite’s laughter is sharp and condescending. “Oh, sweetheart, if it were that easy, I’d have given this task to one of my nymphs. No, Damian is notoriously difficult to charm. It's going to be more difficult than just fluttering your lashes and batting your new tits.”

“Sounds like a real catch,” Liam mutters, earning a pointed glare from Aphrodite.

She ignores him, focusing on you. “You’re going to have to get creative. If you can get him to fall for you, body and soul, it’ll deal a blow to Ares that he won’t recover from for centuries.”

Your stomach twists. “And if I fail?”

Aphrodite’s smile fades, and for the first time, there’s something cold and dangerous in her eyes. “Let’s just say failure isn’t an option.”

Liam leans forward, his voice low and serious. “This is insane. You’re asking him to put himself in front of another guy who could mess with his head.”

“Her head,” Aphrodite corrects sharply, her gaze flicking to you. “And yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking. But if you think this is unfair, maybe I should remind you what’s at stake.”

You scoff. “You’re asking me to fake my way into some guy’s pants just to piss off your ex-boyfriend.”

Aphrodite’s smile returns, sly and unapologetic. “Welcome to the games of gods, darling. Now, get to work. Damian Kane won’t seduce himself.”

With that, she vanishes in a shimmer of golden light, leaving you and Liam alone in the now-suffocating silence of the dorm room.

Liam lets out a low whistle. “So… seducing a warlord in a suit, huh? Sounds like a blast.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so screwed.”