Page 127 of Forbidden Empire

“Esme,” Zeno said, his voice sealed and sharp as steel. “One marker retired. Two remain.”

“Lift the black book,” I said.

“Limited privileges,” he replied. “Medical reinstated. One monitored account. Full reinstatement requires the hardware and a verified copy, or another Konstantinou artery cut with proof. Don’t mistake progress for forgiveness.”

The line went dead.

Aidon’s jaw clenched. “One down,” he said. “We take the next.”

I stared at my reflection in the dark glass and didn’t look away. Progress, not absolution. Fine. I’d earn the rest.

Rhea was gone, and in that vacuum, something new had taken root.

Now, Aidon and I shared that power. Vegas was ours, and there was no going back.

He’d tossed the offer onto the table like it was nothing, a stake in his operation, my own piece of the action, and here I was, still pretending to consider.

Maybe I’d stay. Perhaps I’d walk. The truth?

I’d probably stick around to see what would happen next. But I wasn’t about to let him see how much I wanted it. A girl’s got to keep him guessing.

Funny, all that anxiety I’d had about running. The way I’d convinced myself I’d have to slip out in the night, before things got complicated or dangerous. But Aidon’s urge to control me?

It had vanished, burned away by something new. Maybe it was always about protection; a twisted, overbearing kind, sure, but his own way of caring.

Now that he’d seen I could handle myself, seen me stand my ground, there was a shift between us.

I felt it every time he got close, a note of respect, sharp and electric, in the way he looked at me, in the way he touched me.

Not that he’d stopped being a man, with all the stubbornness and pride that implied.

I could sense how hard it was for him, the effort it took to loosen that grip, to accept that he couldn’t shield me from everything, not after what happened last time. But these days, he seemed to have different priorities.

Mostly? Fucking me until I couldn’t think, until my limbs went weak and my thoughts shattered into sparks.

We spent hours tangled in his sheets, mapping each other’s bodies, learning every inch with hands and mouths and teeth, making up for lost time and then some.

Between bouts of desperate, frenzied sex, we traded stories and secrets, filling the silences with laughter and memories and half-formed plans for a future that might never come.

And in those moments, the urge to run didn’t even cross my mind.

Maybe tomorrow everything would be different. Perhaps I’d wake up and want out. But for now?

I was right where I wanted to be.

Outside this club, nothing had changed. The river of tourists below was just as oblivious as the locals. None of them had a clue that power had shifted, that the criminal masterminds running this city were suddenly different faces behind the curtain.

But here, in the smoky shadows of Aidon’s club, the difference was unmistakable.

The air crackled with energy, as members swapped stories about Rhea’s downfall. Some were already scheming, eager to slide into the vacancies left behind now that new blood held the reins.

Most of them had feared Rhea. She’d run guns and drugs through this city with ruthless precision, destroying anyone who dared to oppose her.

Now, rumor had it she’d resurfaced in New Jersey, which was hilarious.

Anyone who understood this world knew the Jersey syndicates were even more misogynistic than Vegas ever was.

Rhea wouldn’t stand a chance at rebuilding there. The family heads would mock her, maybe even strip her of whatever scraps she had left, before laughing her out of town.