Page 16 of Forbidden Empire

"Playing errand girl for the Shadow Syndicate now?" My eyebrow arched. "Does big brother approve?"

"Please." She gave a one-shoulder shrug, her perfume, something expensive and floral, wafting through the air between us. "Zeno's chess pieces are right where he wants them."

“And?” I asked.

Helena's manicured fingers extracted a cream-colored note from her blazer pocket. She flicked it across my desk like a playing card. The paper skidded to a stop against my whiskey glass.

I unfolded it with one hand, the expensive stationery crisp between my fingers. Rhea's handwriting, elegant cursive in blood-red ink:

Aidon,

Still searching for your runaway queen? Be careful what you wish for.

Best,

Rhea

My jaw clenched so tight I tasted metal. "This is your urgent message?"

"My job was delivery, not content." Helena's lips curved into that practiced smile.

Ares moved between us, shoulders blocking my view. "Door's that way."

"Always a pleasure, gentlemen." Her heels click-clacked a staccato rhythm down the marble stairs.

The note crackled as my fist closed around it. I hurled it toward the bin, missing. The paper bounced off the rim and settled on the floor like snow.

Ares's eyes tracked the movement. "She's trying to rattle you."

“Let her try.” I slammed my palm on the desk. The whiskey bottle jerked. “Rhea thinks she’s untouchable in her little shadow kingdom. She runs the courier and feeder routes, cut those, and her money bleeds out.”

"So, what's our play?"

The image of Esme's face floated before me—her knowing smile, those eyes that saw right through me.

"Find. Her." Each word punctuated the air between us. "I want every camera in this city watching for her. Every informant on alert. Every hotel room searched, if necessary."

"Aidon, Rhea's people are?—"

"Did I fucking stutter?" The vein in my temple throbbed. "Esme first. Everything else burns until I have her back."

Two

ESME

The black sequins on my dress shimmered like tiny stars under the strobe lights on the dance floor as I strolled past them.

The club pulsed with life, a sea of young, stunning faces moving to the beat. Laughter and conversation blended with the music as people sipped on cocktails garnished with exotic fruits and mint leaves, their glasses clinking.

The rooftop of the Ida Hotel and Casino offered a panoramic view, but above us, the glow from the relentless neon signs of the Strip swallowed the night sky, concealing any real stars.

I made my way to the balcony's edge, my fingers curling around the cool metal railing.

Below, the sidewalk teemed with tourists, a constant flow of bodies moving from one spectacle to another. The horizon was a dazzling display of flashing casino signs and towering hotel façades, each vying for attention with its kaleidoscope of colors.

Cars crawled along Las Vegas Boulevard, headlights creating a slow-moving river of light.

The sky above was a swirling masterpiece of orange and pink hues, remnants of the setting sun casting its final glow overthe towering hotels and endless casinos of this manufactured paradise.