the biggest of thank you's to everyshadedsilver who beta read this for me.
Summary
Annabeth Chase is just a 25 year old waitress trying desperately to pay her next bill and take proper care of her 13 year old younger brother. Life for her is simple, and as much as she tries to convince her otherwise, she doesn't like it that way.
Perseus "Percy" Jackson is a prominent 27 year old businessman who will do anything to inherit what was promised to him. But getting that inheritance has proved to be a lot more difficult than he'd anticipated.
With the deadline looming over his horizon, how far is he willing to go to get what's his? How far is Annabeth willing to go to provide her brother the childhood he deserves?
An engagement contract seems a simple enough answer to their problems, but is it? And as Annabeth is drawn further and further into Percy's world, how long until she uncovers the truth behind his family's wealth?
Warning: This chapter contains... mild sexual tension (emphasis on mild)
Perseus
.
Percy has to fight his smirk from growing as he stares her down. Amusement flutters in his chest as he takes in her large, grey eyes and blonde hair. Annabeth swallows, eliciting his repeated question. "Well? I'm waiting for an answer, Annabeth."
The waitress in front of him scowls a little and looks past his poised arms to peer into his bedroom. Percy's attention lowers to the curve of her legs for a split moment before refocusing on her face.
Annabeth meets his gaze. "Are you busy right now?"
He hums a little to himself, pushing off of the doorway. "Define busy, Ms. Chase."
"I need to talk to you, Perseus."
Deciding that he's let his emotions show for long enough, Percy allows all smugness to drain from his face as he turns around. "I'm all ears." He heads back into his bedroom, assuming that Annabeth will follow.
She does.
The door closes and he pulls a t shirt from his dresser, shrugging it on. When the Greek resurfaces, he almost chuckles at the fact that she's staring with intensity at his torso. Almost.
Percy's eyebrow lifts and he sits down on the edge of his bed. "You said you wanted to talk, Annabeth." He can't keep the slight accusatory tone from filtering over his words, but it isn't his fault, he supposes. She was the one to interrupt his relaxation, after all.
She grunts a little, her eyes darkening as if she's finally remembering her reason for appearing at his door. "I know." They stare at each other for a moment, until Annabeth finally breaks the silence. Her arms cross over her chest and her eyes narrow. "Who the hell is Bianca?"
Percy freezes, tinges of annoyance rippling at the seams on his heart strings. "None of your business, Ms. Chase." He really dislikes the way she says his younger sister's name, as if it's poison.
Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "I'm not gonna remind you what my name is again. You know what it is. Don't be rude." Her ankle crosses in front of the other and he has to force his gaze away from the sight of her svelte legs. "And besides," she continues, her tone edging on annoyance as well. "You said that I was your only option."
Percy's chuckle bounces out of his chest before he can stop it. After a few moments indulging himself (much to her obvious chagrin), he leans forward, balancing his elbows against his knees. "Is that all?" He cocks his head a little before sizing her up, his tone growing serious. "What are you... jealous?"
Her frown takes a murderous turn. "Don't be ridiculous." And then she stalks forward, her silver eyes ensnaring him. He finds that it's getting more and more difficult to keep his gaze from wandering down her lithe figure. "But I'm not fond of liars, Mr. Jackson. And if I find out that you lied to me-"
He takes that as his cue to stand. Perseus pushes off of his bed and stretches to his full height, a tiny smirk pulling over his lips before dropping completely. "You'll what?" His tone is dark.
Annabeth's eyes widen for a fracture of a moment as she takes a tiny step back. But he sees it anyways.
Percy hums and narrows his eyes, the timbre of the vibration rumbling in his chest. His words are balanced and empty when he speaks, making sure that she can't see just how much her proximity is affecting him. "Are you threatening me, Ms. Chase? Is that what I'm hearing?"
Her bravado returns just as quickly as it had disappeared. The small woman in front of him growls and takes another step forward, pressing a bare fingernail into his pecs. The Greek looks on in interest as her pillowy lips tuck further into a frown and her almond-shaped grey eyes smolder.
"Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Jackson. If it turns out that you have other women available while I'm here, wasting my time and practically abandoning my brother..." She trails off and shakes her head.
Annabeth moves to pull away but Percy grabs her wrist, loosely holding it between his fingers. His lips flicker upwards in amusement as he watches her focus zero in on their conjoined hands. The Greek tuts, drawing her attention back up to his gaze.
His words are serious and he makes sure that his expression holds the same magnitude. "Do I strike you as a liar, Annabeth Chase?"
The waitress before him licks her lips- seemingly out of habit- before narrowing her eyes. "I don't know you. You don't strike me as anything." She then pulls her hand away from his grasp and her eyebrows furrow. "Except cold."
Perseus opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a knocking at his door. Annoyed and inconvenienced, he calls for the stranger to speak.
Aleane's accented voice comes through the wood. There's a fearful tinge in it that he's come to recognize as hers. "Mr. Dare is on the phone for you, sir."
Percy lowly growls at the sound of the Irish bastard's name. He steps away from Annabeth and stalks to the door. When he yanks it open, Aleane visibly flinches and casts a glance to the floor while swallowing thickly.
Aleane is one of his newer hires, but goddamit if he doesn't regret taking her on. He had done it as a favor to Raisa, but he had never seen such a jumpy woman before. And he could never tell if it was because of him, or because she was just jumpy in general.
He grunts, slipping his words to suit her native tongue. "Скажите ему, что он может перезвонить мне в рабочее время. Я дома, все, что он скажет, может чертовски подождать." [Tell him he can call me back during office hours. I'm at home, whatever he has to say can fucking wait.]
Aleane's blue eyes meet his frantically for a moment before she remembers her apprehension and looks down to the floor. She swallows thickly and then in stilted English, "Y-yes, sir."
Perseus nods, satisfied, and turns to close the door. Already, he can feel Annabeth's angry gaze on his back... which is something he needs to address. But before he can resume his conversation with the waitress, his housekeeper pipes up again.
"Wait! Mr. Jackson..." Her words trail off and he pushes back an eye roll before turning again.
"Что это?" [What is it?]
Aleane twiddles her thumbs and motions in the direction of the dining room. "Ужин тоже готов, сэр." [Dinner is also ready, sir.]
The Greek cocks an eyebrow and slightly frowns, looking past her and down the hallway. "я не просил на ужин сегодня вечером." [I didn't request for dinner tonight.]
She shifts uncomfortably. "Ну ... да, но повар слышал, что мисс Элиас была с нами сегодня вечером, и он хотел приготовить ей еду." [Well... yes, but the cook heard that Ms. Chase was with us tonight and he wanted to prepare a meal for her.]
When Perseus doesn't immediately respond, Aleane hurries to fill the tense silence between them. "Я могу сказать ему, что вы не будете есть сегодня вечером, сэр. Повар будет-" [I can tell him that you won't be eating tonight, sir. The cook will und-]
The 27 year old cuts her off with a terse nod, effectively causing her sentence to stop in her throat. Percy glances over his shoulder to find Annabeth staring back at him, her eyebrows furrowed but her grey eyes alight and wide with curiosity. She scowls a little when she catches his gaze. The Greek almost chuckles before he turns back to the housekeeper.
"Нет, в этом нет необходимости. Елена и я скоро будем внизу. Поблагодари повара, Алеана." [No, there's no need for that. Annabeth and I will be downstairs soon. Give the cook my gratitude, Aleane.]
The housekeeper nods and backs away. "Very well, sir."
When Perseus finally shuts the door, Annabeth hesitates to pick things up exactly where they left off. Instead, when he turns around, she takes a few steps towards him. Her eyebrows furrow, as if she's curious. "What..." her question brushes past her pillowy lips and she glances up at him with wide eyes. "What language was that?"
He cocks his head to the side, studying her for a moment. Annabeth stares at him, waiting for his answer. Percy fights the urge to reach over and take one of her waves between his fingers. "Russian," he answers simply. A daunting smirk, and then, "Why? Do you find it attractive, Annabeth?" His Italian accent thickens.
Annabeth's expression sours for a moment, but he can tell she's blushing... even if he can't see it forthright. She angles her body away and shakes her head. "That's irrelevant." Then, as if she finally remembers the topic of conversation before Aleane interrupted, she folds her arms over her chest. "There was something you were about to say to me, Mr. Jackson." She purses her lips. "I'm waiting, Perseus."
He grins and draws closer to her. Once he's near enough that he can feel the heat emanating from her body, the Greek cocks his head and slightly narrows his eyes. "You're right," he begins. "I was about to say something."
Her eyebrows lift, a clear indication for him to continue.
Percy chuckles and angles his body so that he's slightly behind her. His hand comes to rest at the small of her back for a moment as he nudges her forward, towards the door. "But that's not important anymore. You should eat, Annabeth."
The woman in front of him huffs a little and shakes her head. "I can eat at any time." Annabeth spins to face him, this time digging her fingernail into the skin of his chest ever deeper. "We're not done here, Percy."
As always, his tone is balanced when he answers. "Far from it," he agrees. The young businessman pries her hand from his sternum and motions towards the door. "But I'm not saying a word until you eat... unless, you would rather tell the cook himself why his food is going to waste."
Her silver eyes flash with barely-veiled venom. "Ridiculous," Annabeth mutters under her breath. But despite it all, she dodges Percy's body and walks out of the room with her head held high.
What a prideful woman...
...
He can practically feel the contempt radiating off of Annabeth's skin as he gently leads her down the stairs. Not only that, but if he were to guess, Percy would say that she's cursing him to hell in her head... for reasons unknown. The waitress's body is tense, her breaths clipped and short and her attention focused straight ahead, seemingly not caring where he's taking her.
But Percy supposes that one can't care when one doesn't know in the first place. So what she doesn't know can't hurt her.
For now, at least.
"Jesus Christ, Perseus, we've been walking for several minutes. Is your house the length of a landing strip?"
He doesn't respond but veers left instead, pushing through a set of double doors. They find themselves in the smaller dining room, the one he usually reserves for himself and whenever Bianca, Nico, or Hazel are staying over. Percy figures it's more appropriate to use rather than the larger one.
"Oh," Annabeth exhales with awe filtered over her words.
He glances over his shoulder with a thin smile, taking in her craned neck and wide, grey eyes that study the interior of the room. "Like what you see, Annabeth?"
She doesn't look at him when she answers. "Well... it certainly is beautiful. I'm not gonna lie."
They take their seats.
Dinner carries on in tense silence, the pair of them refusing to acknowledge the other. Percy's thoughts churn faster and faster as his mind attempts to come to terms with the situation he's been thrust in.
Only a day prior was he avoiding a certain Irish model, and now here he is, seated across a woman who's accepted to be his contract fiancée. A woman with olive skin that glows in the sunlight and eyes that churn storms without realizing.
His grip on his armrest tightens at the thought. She's a goddess in the flesh and she doesn't even realize it.
Annabeth breaks the silence. "So," she begins, swirling the white wine that fills her glass. It sloshes a little onto her manicured hand, but she pays it no mind. The waitress draws in a sip. "What's the deal with the paparazzi?"
He freezes. "Pardon?"
Annabeth rolls her eyes, and it's only then that he begins to register the effect that the alcohol has on her.
So she's a lightweight, he thinks, amused.
The waitress before her sets down her glass and motions vaguely in a random direction. "You mentioned earlier that your father ordered paparazzi so that the news could break of our... romantic involvement."
Perseus hums and waves the busboy away, ordering him in Greek to shut the door on his way out. Whatever Annabeth has to say is for the businessman's ears, and his alone. Once all parties have left save for the pair of them, the 27 year old motions for her to continue.
She obliges, taking in another gulp of wine. Annabeth's eyebrows pinch together as she forces it down her throat. "You're a businessman. Last time I checked, businessmen don't make the news."
The Greek forces down a chuckle and leans over the table, keeping her gaze. "Perhaps you're right." And then he cocks his head to the side, sizing her up. "But the heir to a multi-billion dollar company, as well as the older brother to two world famous models, a tech genius, and a world famous actress and a younger brother to a founder of a dominating resort chain, as well as a shareholder in one of Hollywood's most successful production companies..." He trails off, relishing the surprised glint in her eyes. "He would make the news, don't you think?"
She frowns. "You're lying."
Percy tuts, "Again with the accusations, ομορφιά μου." [My beauty] He reaches for a napkin, his hand skimming her own. The Greek pushes down a smirk at her light jolt when their skin makes contact. "You know, Annabeth, you might hurt my feelings one of these days."
Annabeth laughs as if she's heard the funniest joke in the world. She downs her glass of wine and pours herself some more.
He draws back in his seat and settles his gaze on her face. His attention drags from her full lips and the gradual slope of her nose to the elegant column of her neck and the bejeweled mass of wavy hair that spills over her shoulder, curving around her brea-
Focus, he chastises himself. But try as he might, the young businessman can't deny that the woman before him is beautiful.
Beyond beautiful, really, but that fact is slightly irrelevant.
Perseus clears his throat. "I'm not one for the media, but my last name prevents me from getting any semblance of privacy. And now that you've been drawn into the mix... well, the press is going to have their fun."
Her eyes narrow. "And you expect me to believe that as high profiled as you allegedly are... I, a waitress from a hole-in-the-wall diner who lives in a puny apartment, am your only option?" As her sentence continues, her anger becomes more and more evident, the logic baiting her on. Seething, Annabeth stands abruptly and leans over the table, slamming her palms into the wood. "Do you take me for a fool?"
He angles his head to stare up at her, unable to keep the amusement from playing over his lips. "I would lower my voice if I were you." His words are balanced as always, which seems to anger her further.
Annabeth scoffs and turns away, heading back towards the double doors that empty out into the hallway. "I'm not dealing with this bullshit." Over her shoulder does she toss out, "Give the cook my thanks. Food was delicious."
A chuckle bounces out of his chest. Even when angry, she's tactful. His gaze lowers to the gentle sway of her hips before her figure disappears with the doors slamming shut.
Deciding to give her a few moments of space, he finishes his food. Afterwards, Percy stands slowly and wipes his hands on his napkins. Then, after grabbing the bottle of whiskey, he takes a swig and heads off in pursuit of the heated waitress that stormed out moments before.
"Annabeth!" He calls out. Silence is his answer.
Well, near silence.
The auditory quality of her stomps carry through the halls. It's clear that she has no idea where she's going and is still trying to find her way back to the bedrooms.
Perseus follows the sound of her footsteps, and it isn't long until he rounds a corner and sees her leaning against a column with her arms folded over her chest. He approaches slowly but her eyes don't even open when she addresses him. "What the hell do you want?"
The Greek sidles up beside her and presses a hand into the space of the column above her head. "It's rude to not look at someone when you're talking to them. Didn't your parents ever teach you that?"
Annabeth huffs again but opens her eyes nonetheless. The moment that she fully registers his proximity, the waitress's bright eyes widen and she shrinks back a little. She ducks out of his embrace and turns to him. "And it's rude to be in someone else's personal space."
Percy angles his body towards her and presses his shoulder into the column. Again, his gaze drops to her feet before sliding up towards her face, taking in her figure. Their eyes bore into each other. "It seems that our personal space might... blend together pretty soon."
Her irises burn into his skin as she takes a step forward, her eyebrows pinching. Her teeth sink into the plush of her pillowy lower lip and Perseus clenches his fist within his pocket.
She knows what she's doing. She has to.
Annabeth's voice is quiet when she speaks. Quiet, but firm. "Just tell me the truth, Percy. I just want the truth." The waitress shuffles forward, her finger once again landing on his chest before pressing into it. "Is that too much to ask of you?"
A dark thought scrambles across the forefront of his mind, and something within him snaps. Perseus shifts their bodies until they're practically chest to chest, his hand closing around her outstretched wrist, the other pressing into the marble column above her head.
Annabeth's surprised gaze meets his head on, and he doesn't miss the way that she presses her legs together either. The waitress swallows thickly and mumbles something under her breath.
He ignores it, maintaining the coldness in his words. "Do you know what you're asking of me, Annabeth Chase? Hm?" The baritone of his voice vibrates in his chest, and judging by the manner that her attention lowers to his sternum before refocusing on his face, he knows that she can feel it.
She scowls and tears her hand from his grip. But even so, neither of them move a muscle after that. Annabeth glares up at him. "Asking for the truth is too much to ask? What is wrong with you?" She frowns again and shakes her head.
Annabeth's hand comes to rest on his lower abdomen, most likely poised to push him away. But as soon as her fingers make contact with his heated skin, Percy finds himself humming in approval.
How long has it been since someone has touched him?
He can't remember. But it's been too long. Far too long.
A low rumble, deep and guttural, rises from the back of his throat.
Annabeth's breath catches in her throat the sound he makes, and with a spare glance the Greek can see that her chest heaves.
He swallows thickly before responding. "I don't have the truth that you want from me, Annabeth." His tone is gruff and his words are ragged. Perseus can't think straight, not with her hand still placed on his abs, so dangerously close to his-
Annabeth pulls her hand away, muttering something incoherent beneath her breath. She licks her lips and refocuses her gaze on his face. She stares up at him, obviously determined to hold her ground. Her tempestuous grey eyes glint... dangerously?
And yet, she makes no move to back away or tell him to move.
Percy leans over her, cocking his head to the side. He finally addresses her mumbled words. "I didn't hear you the first time, Annabeth." His voice isn't as balanced as it usually is, but he can't find it within himself to care.
Annabeth runs her fingers through her blonde waves, trying to look everywhere except his face. "I don't see how that's my problem, Mr. Jackson."
He angles his head to meet her eyes. "Well, the only reason you're still here is because you want me to hear it. Ho ragione, mia bella?" [Am I right, my beautiful?]
She gives him a look, but even he can see the desire plain and clear behind her gaze. "No."
Perseus laughs, the baritone vibrating in his chest as he leans closer to her. His lips barely ghost over the edge of her ear when he whispers. "Please don't play games with me, Annabeth Chase. I'd hate for you to lose."
She shifts forward, her chest skimming his for the barest of moments. Annabeth's heated breath brushes his neck as she whispers something into his jaw. "I don't play games, Perseus. I finish them."
And then she's gone, hurrying up the stairs and leaving him tense, bothered, with strained sweatpants, in her wake.
.
.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much for reading this chapter! And I hope you enjoyed Percy's POV because it's one of the last chapters of his for awhile (or so I have planned so far).
Comment what you think of this so far :)
love, April!