ocean-life Chapter 27 First Meeting 2
Chapter 27 First Meeting 2
One of the men, taller, wearing an overpriced designer jacket, leaned in with a sleazy grin. "You don't have to work here, you know. I could get you a real job. Something worthy of someone like you. How about you quit this place and—"
"If I wanted to be insulted," Isis interrupted, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder, "I'd have stayed in ancient Egypt and let the Romans critique my temples."
The man blinked, unsure whether to laugh or feel offended, but Isis didn't care. She wasn't here to humor them. These fools thought they were offering her treasures, but to a goddess who once owned the Nile, their promises were just noise.
Still, she let them linger. Their desperation was amusing in its own way. And why shouldn't she indulge? If Cleopatra could be remembered for her charm, then Isis deserved her own legacy in this modern era. She would rewrite history—again.
The young goddess moved like she owned not just the room but time itself. Her walk was unhurried, deliberate, as though every step was meant to be admired. She wasn't dressed like the mortals around her in bland uniforms or awkward suits.
No, Isis wore her beauty like an armor, timeless and untouchable.
Her golden skin shimmered under the store's artificial lights, and her dark hair cascaded like rivers of silk, styled in a way that managed to be both modern and eternal. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, roamed the space, taking in the mortals who stopped mid-conversation to stare at her.
Of course they were staring. She was Isis. Worship was her birthright.
She let their gazes wash over her, tilting her head ever so slightly as if granting them permission to marvel. She wasn't arrogant—no, arrogance was for those unsure of their greatness. Isis was simply... aware. She had ruled over empires, commanded the devotion of entire civilizations, and now, here she was, reigning supreme in a realm of glass and aluminum.
It was intoxicating, this power. Even in a world that had forgotten her name, Isis still still commanded attention.
As the men fumbled over who could offer her more, the faint hum of new footsteps caught her attention. Isis's sharp eyes shifted toward the door just as two figures walked in—a woman in a loose floral dress, designer bag slung over her shoulder, and a man trailing slightly behind her, entirely indifferent to the stares they attracted.
Isis froze.
Over it?
Something about him made Isis pause. He didn't even glance her way, not even for more than a moment. While the rest of the store was transfixed by her presence, he was glued to his phone, scrolling as though the entire world beyond his screen didn't exist.
Her pride bristled. This mortal had just dismissed the room—her—as if none of it was worth his time. She could feel the weight of her admirers' eyes on her, their silent question echoing in the air: Who does he think he is?
For a goddess used to unwavering adoration, the dismissal hit harder than she cared to admit.
'Who is this mortal,' she thought, narrowing her eyes. 'And why doesn't he see me?'
Her lips tightened into a subtle smile, masking the storm brewing inside her. He'd glanced at her the same way he'd glanced at everyone else. She, who had commanded empires and shaped history.
She, whose very presence was enough to bring mortals to their knees.
And he didn't even blink.
"Oh, we're not done here," Isis murmured to herself, her fingers curling into her palm. The air around her seemed to thrum with an invisible energy, a silent promise that this mortal's indifference wouldn't last long.
Tessa led Parker deeper into the store, oblivious to the tempest brewing in the goddess's mind. The mortal world may have forgotten who Isis was, but she was about to remind it.
And she'd start with him.