Page 10 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)
Three
A IDON
My persistence had paid off, and the sweet taste of victory finally settled in my mouth.
I stepped out of the blistering Las Vegas sun, squinting against the harsh light, and pushed through the revolving glass doors of the Olympus Casino. Instantly, the cacophony of the casino floor engulfed me.
The clatter of slot machines mingled with the rhythmic clinking of poker chips, while dealers called out bets in voices that rose above the din.
Each casino in this city was a fingerprint of its own, unlike any I'd encountered in places like Monte Carlo, Venice, or even Salzburg, where elegance mingled with a more subdued atmosphere.
Here, the flashing lights dazzled with relentless rhythm, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the sea of eager faces.
The air was thick with a heady mix of cigarette smoke and spilled cocktails.
That unmistakable scent of money mingling with the bitter undertones of disappointment lingered like a heavy perfume.
The desperation etched into the gamblers' eyes was palpable as they clung to their chips, their hopes pinned on the next roll of the dice or flip of a card.
It was a heady cocktail of pain and pleasure, a concoction I found intoxicating, and I was addicted to its allure.
The first time I saw Esme, she cleaned out a private table I was supposed to monitor. After fifteen minutes, missing three tells I didn’t notice, she left me a note on a napkin: “Pay attention.” Since then, I’ve been trying to catch up.
That addiction had driven me to open my own exclusive club, a sanctuary designed to cater to the city's elite. I tailored my establishment to indulge in the unique desires away from the prying eyes of the bustling casino floor.
I walked through the corridors, tourists shuffled like zombies, their eyes darting from one glittering attraction to another. The fleeting dream of sudden wealth lured them forward, a siren’s song promising riches.
They all believed it could be their moment, a single card game, one lucky pull of the slot machine.
But those of us working behind the curtains of this neon-lit paradise knew the truth. The occasional lightning strike of fortune was a spectacle, a rare occurrence meant to fuel the myths. Real wealth in this town wasn't found on the casino floor.
It was amassed far from the glittering chaos I had just stepped into, in the shadows where deals were made and fates were sealed.
Today was different. I was a man on a mission, focused, and nothing was going to distract me. The bustling scene around me was a blur.
I ignored the elderly women bustling in and out of overpriced boutiques, their shopping bags rustling with every step.
The children, with sticky fingers and chocolate-smeared faces, dripped melting ice cream onto the vibrant carpets, oblivious to the world.
I maneuvered through clusters of young women, their sequined dresses catching the dim casino lights as they sipped colorful cocktails, not even glancing their way.
A thrill coursed through me, a tingling sensation that danced along my skin.
Esme was close.
I could feel it deep within, an unshakable certainty that only grew stronger. Just yesterday, one of my men had caught a glimpse of her at the Ida, but she had slipped away, leaving him empty-handed and me seething with frustration.
Right now, fortune smiled upon me.
Ares had rung me up not thirty minutes ago. He’d seen her at the Olympus Casino, of all places, calmly seated at a poker table as if she were just any other tourist passing through.
Her audacity staggered me. It was almost admirable.
Esme, who had deceived me and stolen from her own brother Zeno, was now brazenly sitting in the very casino he owned. It was as if she dared him and every syndicate family from here to Los Angeles to come and find her.
In a twisted way, I couldn’t help but respect her boldness. She had vanished with invaluable information, having duped me into aiding her, and took with her the power to topple many influential figures.
The whispers had been relentless, though only Zeno knew what the contents of that box and USB drive held. Judging by Zeno's frantic search for her, whatever was on there was undoubtedly explosive.
I halted at the perimeter of the bustling crowd, my eyes sweeping the room with hawk-like precision.
Across the sea of people, I locked eyes with one of our men.
My gaze followed his direction, and there she was, Esme, her presence as electrifying as ever. I gasped, the thrill of the chase surging through me once more.
She sat with her chin tilted at that precise angle I remembered—the one that made her look both regal and dangerous. Her fingers tapped the edge of her cards in a rhythm I'd watched a hundred times across my sheets.
Ten feet away, a man with shoulders like a linebacker pretended to watch the roulette wheel, his gaze returning to her every seven seconds, but she didn't spare him a glance.
I moved closer, each step heavier than the last. My collar tightened against my throat.
The air between us vibrated with the same electricity that had once left claw marks down my back.
Fuck.
My mouth went dry. The memory of her taste flooded back, salt and honey and that goddamn expensive whiskey she always stole from my cabinet.
My pants grew uncomfortably tight, the fabric straining as blood rushed south to my cock, betraying me like it had every night for weeks as I'd lain awake staring at the ceiling, sheets twisted around my legs.
As I navigated the perimeter of the bustling crowd, my eyes drank in every detail of her presence.
Her long black hair was concealed beneath a short wig of auburn hue, revealing the graceful curve of her neck, pale and delicate.
I swallowed hard, the memory of the soft skin at the nape of her neck beneath my lips sending a shiver down my spine.
Her tight cocktail dress clung to her body, its neckline plunging daringly to expose the swell of her creamy cleavage. The vivid image of her bare breasts seared into my mind, leaving me breathless and propelling my feet to move faster.
Within moments, I was standing behind her, my mind racing as I considered my next move.
Ares’s urgent phone call had propelled me here in such a rush that I hadn’t paused to formulate a plan.
All I could focus on was her face, her presence consuming my thoughts.
Now that she was within reach, I wrestled with what to do next.
Conflicting urges surged within me, the desire to both harm and possess her battling for dominance.
Here, amidst the eyes of the public, I knew I could do neither. But once we were alone? In that private moment, all constraints would vanish, and anything could happen.
The possibilities were limitless.
I took a deep breath, the cool air rushing into my lungs. I caught the faint, floral scent of her perfume, jasmine and amber. It was a familiar fragrance that tickled my memory and set my nerves on edge.
This woman was going to be the death of me if I wasn’t careful. Just the sight of her, with her elegant posture and confident smile, left my heart pounding and my hands trembling. I prayed that nobody else noticed the turmoil within me.
Ares’s man sidled up beside me, his presence a steadying force. His neatly pressed suit and sharp gaze marked him as a professional.
"Can I do anything for you, sir?" he asked, eyes scanning the room.
"Do you have any chips on you?"
He chuckled, reaching into his pocket. "I do. Was trying to blend in earlier." The chips clinked as they cascaded into my palm, cool and smooth against my skin.
"Thanks," I nodded, flexing my fingers around them.
"Anything else?"
"No, I can take it from here." I clapped his shoulder. "Good job."
"Of course," he said, melting back into the crowd.
I took another deep breath, feeling the tension coil in my muscles, and moved in the direction of the poker table.
There was an empty seat beside her, its red velvet cushion beckoning. I grasped the back of the chair and pulled it out swiftly, the legs scraping lightly against the polished wood floor.
“Mind if I join?” I asked, my voice cool and calm, a complete contrast to the storm brewing inside me.
Esme lifted her pretty green eyes, her gaze flickering with alarm for the slightest fraction of a second before the walls went back up. She lifted her chin, the perfect picture of power and control.
I almost laughed at the display.
She and I were anything but cool and calm, and we both knew it. But we mirrored each other, neither of us willing to let our guard down.
I threw the chips in the middle of the table and nodded to the dealer. My thigh brushed hers as I sat.
She didn’t flinch, but her back straightened, her body stiffened, and her shoulders grew rigid and stoic.
When I glanced down, her knuckles had gone white around her cards, the veins in her wrists prominent.
I nodded to her, a gesture laden with unspoken tension and history.
"Good to see you again," I said, grabbing the cards the dealer slid toward me.
"Wish I could say the same," she muttered with a venom that cut sharper than a knife. "You always liked to make things as difficult as possible, didn’t you, Aidon?"
A smile tugged at my lips, but I remained silent.
I could have thrown the accusation right back at her, for running off, for the betrayal, for this tangled web of deceit we now found ourselves ensnared within.
If it weren't for her treacherous ways, we wouldn't be locked in this relentless game of cat and mouse, each move more dangerous than the last.
We’d probably be in my bed fucking each other’s brains out.
Instead, we were here, caught in a game with stakes higher than any poker match could ever hold.
My cards were strong, promising victory. I discarded one and raised the stakes, locking eyes with her.
Esme arched an eyebrow, silently accepting my challenge, her gaze a storm of defiance.
I leaned closer, bringing my mouth to her ear.