Page 73 of Hades’ Revenge

“Happy birthday.” Sebastian handed me the box. “Open it.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“You bought me that gorgeous dress and those shoes for the reception. That would have been enough.”

“Nothing will ever be enough when it comes to you. I already made that clear.”

I lifted the lid off the rectangular box and spread open the shimmery, silver tissue paper to reveal a Cartier diamond bracelet with two intertwined hearts dangling from it.

“Sebastian.” My gaze flew to his. “This is gorgeous, but I…” I knew jewelry almost as well as I did fashion, and this stunner had to be half the cost of a semester at NYU.

“If you tell me you can’t accept it, I’m not going to be amused.”

“I love it.” I handed it to him and held out my wrist. “I was just going to say that it wasn’t necessary because I already have everything I want this year.”

“Now you have a pretty bracelet to remember your twenty-first birthday.” He clasped it on my wrist. “I plan on sharing many more memories with you.”

“Thank you.” I crawled into his lap. “I have another question.”

“Of course you do.” He sighed as he glanced at his tattoo.

“It’s not about the tattoo.” As much as I wanted to know the meaning behind it, I wouldn’t force him. He would tell me about his past when he was ready. I could be patient for him.

“What is your question?”

“I don’t know when your birthday is.”

“November twenty-seventh.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I was born in Athens.”

“How old were you when you came to the states?”

“Seventeen.”

“Why did you leave Greece?” I asked.

“There was nothing for me there.” He pressed his fingers to my lips. “I answered your question.”

“You did.” I snuggled into his chest, suppressing the urge to interrogate him a little more. Patience. “We didn’t eat dinner.”

“Would you like me to take you to dinner?”

“I’d rather stay in.” The ominous sky illuminated with lightning strikes. “Can we order in?”

“It’s your birthday. We can have whatever you want.”

“Prosecco and cake.”

“For dinner?”

“It’s my birthday.” I traced his jaw with my fingertip. “But maybe some cavatelli in a blush sauce.”

“I’m sure I can make that happen.” He took his phone from his pocket. “Is there a specific restaurant you had in mind? I haven’t eaten in this town in years, so you’ll have to make the recommendation.”

“If it’s easier, we can order from the room service menu.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “It might be too difficult to get a restaurant to deliver on a Saturday night on such short notice.”

“I’m quite persuasive when I want to be,” he said. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it.”