Page 18 of Forbidden Empire

“I’m not worried,” I said with a smirk, feeling the corners of my lips curl upward. “Let him try.”

“You’re playing with fire, Esme.”

She was right, of course. Aidon was a dangerous man, with a temper that simmered like a volcano about to erupt. I'd seen the fury in his eyes up close, felt the tension in the air crackle when he was displeased. He was not just intelligent, but possessed a sharp, calculating mind that made him both cunning and ruthless. It was as if he had a sixth sense, able to see through every façade I put up, predicting my moves before I even knew what they would be.

This time, I felt the thrill of being ahead, at least for the moment. A tiny spark ignited in my chest, a flicker of fear, though I questioned whether it was fear at all.

What would happen if Aidon caught up with me?

I pondered this question once more, replaying every scenario in my head like a broken record.

Would he kill me in a fit of rage?

Harm me, leave me bruised and broken?

Keep me locked away, a prisoner in his twisted game?

Or would he fuck me with an intensity that bordered on madness, pushing me to beg for mercy?

For some reason, none of these possibilities stirred genuine fear within me.

"I'm fine, Selene. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing," I reassured her, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

"So do I, remember? I'm good at my job, Esme. So, believe me when I tell you that your time is running out." Selene's warning crackled through the phone, urgent and insistent.

"I hear you, my friend," I replied, forcing a casual tone. "Thanks for the information. I'll be in touch soon."

I ended the call, cutting off her protests. She worried too much.

I brushed off any lingering doubts, squared my shoulders, and stepped away from the balcony, leaving the cool night air behind.

With a cool glass in hand, I navigated through the pulsating sea of people, my mind set on enjoying the night.

The thumping bass reverberated through the air, and I scanned the scene, a hobby I indulged in often. A shadowy corner caught my eye near the club's casino, where an unclaimed chair beckoned.

I settled into it, the dim light casting long shadows.

My gaze roamed the crowd, soaking in the kaleidoscope of couples swaying to the music and groups chatting, their laughter bubbling up like champagne.

I inhaled deep, the scent of perfume and cologne mingling with the faint odor of smoke, trying to dismiss the echo of Selene’s warning that still lingered like a distant thunder.

Sure, coming here was a gamble, a reckless decision given the circumstances, but hell, I’d already rolled the dice on the biggest gamble of them all by choosing to run.

This wasn’t the time to worry. Not tonight. I took another sip of my drink, savoring the sweet, juicy burst of peach that danced across my taste buds. The alcohol hummed through my veins, leaving a warm, fuzzy sensation that started at my toes and spread through my entire body.

It was just what I needed. My shoulders began to sway to the rhythm of the music playing softly in the background, and I let all the worries melt away like sugar in hot tea.

Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would take the time to analyze everything in detail. If I concluded it was time to leave, then I would make my move.

But for now, I needed another drink. I stood up, my empty glass in hand, and weaved my way through the room toward the bar. As I passed a poker game in full swing, I couldn't help but smile at the palpable tension hovering over the table. A group of men sat hunched over their cards, jaws clenched, and brows furrowed, with a single woman among them.

My eyes caught her face as I was passing by, and I paused, intrigued. Her features were taut with concentration, yet inscrutable, embodying the essence of a perfect poker face.

The men around her, however, were far less composed. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and their hands trembled as they clutched their cards. When I noticed the massive stack of chips in the center of the table, I understood the stakes.

A growing crowd gathered around them, and I joined in, our collective breath held in anticipation of the woman’s next move. She exuded sophistication and beauty, her raven hair elegantly coiled into a French twist.

Her appearance was immaculate, from her impeccably tailored dress to her long, black, sharply manicured fingernails, which tapped rhythmically on the table's edge.