Page 19 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Seven

E SME

Aidon’s war room in the Underworld looked like a bomb had gone off in a stationery store.

Maps flung everywhere, classified reports stacked in precarious towers across the table, a chaos of paper and half-scrawled notes.

The only light came from the TV monitor’s harsh glow, flickering surveillance feeds painting the clutter in cold, frantic color.

Every property in the city, probably.

That was just how he operated: total control, no exceptions.

And the tension and distrust?

Off the fucking charts.

They were a near living, breathing thing.

Now that we’d fucked (multiple times, thank you very much), both of us were back on high alert, like we’d never bothered to take our armor off in the first place.

That back-and-forth power struggle? Oh, it was alive and well, right alongside the inconvenient, can’t-quit-you attraction that had gotten us into this mess to begin with.

Add all that together, and the air seemed to crackle, electric and hot and a little bit dangerous.

I should have been gone by now.

Slipped out of his arms hours ago, made my escape. It would’ve been a pain in the ass to get around the army of guards he kept parked outside the penthouse, but I could’ve done it. Easy.

But I hadn’t even tried. Not once.

Curiosity, that’s what I told myself. I wanted to see what happened next. What Aidon was planning. Stick around just long enough to grab the juiciest details, then vanish.

Except here I was, still here like a fucking idiot, waiting.

It wasn’t because being naked with him, twisted up in his arms, was the nearest thing to heaven I’d ever tasted. No, that wasn’t it. Not even close.

So here we were. Again. Caught in the middle of another goddamned tug-of-war.

My infuriating and sexy, pain-in-the-ass rival insisted I needed to shut up and do as he said, follow his every command.

I rolled my eyes and let out a derisive snort. Like that was ever going to fucking happen.

Nice try, Aidon.

He might have me dickmatized, but there was no way he’d ever control me.

“Not fucking happening,” I replied, sharp, slicing through the tension that filled the room, the fifth time now, each word colder, rougher than before.

Aidon’s jaw flexed, the muscle ticking beneath the dark stubble across his face. His eyes went inky black, wild, dangerous, as if he was seconds from snapping.

“I’m not asking,” he stated with a low rumble, the kind that sent warning chills and heat, all the way down my spine.

“If you want that heart of yours to keep beating, in that goddamn sexy body”—his gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, every inch intended to fluster, to conquer—“then you’ll do what I say. ”

I clamped my arms tighter across my chest, nails digging into my skin, refusing to give ground.

“Esme, you don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a fucking choice.”

He looked like he was about to snap. And then he did.

His hands slammed down on the desk so hard the whole thing shook, loose pens and paper flying. The wood split under his fist, splinters spraying everywhere.

"Rhea’s men put three bullets in my guys last night. Three. You think they’re fucking around? And you’re standing here like this is a goddamn debate?"

I just lifted my chin, met his eyes. "No."

The silence was deafening, stretched so tight it could break.

He came around the desk, each step a threat—loud, angry, restrained. When he reached me, he didn’t hesitate. He got right up in my face, so close I could feel his breath, hot and rough, brushing my lips.

"If you won’t help me destroy Rhea," he breathed, "I’ll lock you down so deep, even God won’t find you."

He slid a single page across the desk. “Sign, or I will escort you to your brother so he can handle family law.”

The terms were straightforward: two security escorts with me at all times, work in his war room until Rhea was bled dry, no outside communications, all external accounts frozen, and finally, an ankle monitor.

“Is this my punishment?” I asked.

“These are the consequences of your actions,” he said. “You drew blood. You pay markers. Three of them. Sign.”

I picked up the pen, hating the way it felt heavier than it should have. Thankfully, my hand remained steady as I scrolled my name across the line.

In the next moment, Ares crouched before me, placed a decorative silver band around my ankle, and fastened it. An LED then blinked green.

He didn’t look at me, only past me, to the men at the door, before saying, “If it goes dark, trigger Team Five and Eight. Assume hostile interference.”

“Copy,” they said in unison.

I caught the look Aidon gave me. Message received.

“It’s a leash,” he said. “And you chose it.”

My pulse hammered, but I refused to so much as flinch.

I wouldn’t blink or swallow. I wasn’t about to let him see a single goddamn crack in my armor. I held his stare, refusing to look away.

Fuck him.

He thought he owned me now.

As if letting him between my thighs somehow meant I belonged to him? That fucking delusion would be his undoing.

His hand shot up before I could move, fingers skimming over my throat, a touch so gentle it burned.

He took a deliberate step forward, eyes locked with mine, and my instincts did the only thing they could.

I backed away. He followed. I retreated again. Over and over, until my shoulder blades hit the cold, unyielding plaster.

Nowhere left to go.

Then his hand tightened around my throat, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me he could.

A perfect move. Textbook.

I set my jaw, gave him my best “don’t fuck with me” glare, even as heat crawled like a traitorous serpent beneath my skin.

My body, the betrayer. Always.

"You want to pretend this is a game, Esme?" His voice was a low, rough caress, rasping over my skin.

It stretched between us, thick and consuming, filling up the tiny space where our bodies hovered, almost touching.

His hold softened, and one finger traced a slow, deliberate path from my shoulder to my wrist, leaving a burning line that made my nerves tingle. Goosebumps erupted across my skin wherever he touched.

His mouth hovered just above mine, so close I could taste the scotch on his breath, sharp, smoky, and dizzying.

"Fine. But you don’t get to walk away," he murmured, the words a promise and a threat, a dare and a surrender.

My chest squeezed tight, lungs refusing to work as the pounding in my throat matched the relentless ache gathering between my thighs.

If I moved even a fraction, our mouths would crash together.

I could see it play out, the heat and the wildness: his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, my nails clawing his shoulder, clothes tearing, neither of us stopping, both of us frantic, pressed to the wall until nothing existed but this until all my patched-up pride went up in flames, scattered and ruined at our feet.

No. I bit the inside of my cheek until the sharp taste of blood cut through the haze.

Never again. I couldn’t let it happen again.

My eyes darted over the room, tallying every potential weapon within reach. Two weighty lamps. The iron poker by the hearth. If I timed it, caught him off guard, maybe I’d have a chance, a sliver of leverage.

But I wasn’t naive.

Aidon was strength and danger, all honed muscle and ruthless instinct.

He’d disarm me in a heartbeat if I faltered, and I didn’t forget the loyal men posted just beyond the door.

If I were going to beat Aidon, it wouldn’t be by brute force. I’d have to outmaneuver him some other way.

Outsmart him. Outlast him. I just had to accept it would take longer than I wanted.

He moved in, fast and deliberate, and I jerked my head aside before our mouths could meet, wrenching myself free.

“What do you want from me, Aidon?” I asked, my resolve refusing to bend.

His eyes snapped with a wild, hungry light.

“There it is.” He rocked back on his heels, like I’d just delivered him a fistful of gold, the keys to a kingdom or a candy shop. “Knew you’d come around.”

He prowled over to the teetering stack of paperwork crowding his desk, flipping through the pages with quick, impatient flicks, each movement taut with restless energy.

“Start with these. There’s something buried in here; I know it. Dig hard enough, and we’ll find the dirt on Rhea. We make her squirm, back her into a corner. While she’s too busy cleaning up, we slip beneath her guard and rip the real secrets out from under her.”

“That’s the plan?” My eyebrow arched, skepticism I couldn’t hide. “You just want me to…read these reports?”

He shot me a look, already tapping his watch. “For now. I have a meeting in five. But this is what I need from you. Can you handle it?”

I shrugged, the answer already carved into my bones as if any of it could be simple.

No, nothing about this would be simple. That much was written in stone.

“So what do I get out of it?” I fired back, folding my arms tight across my chest, refusing to give an inch.

He glared at me, irritation etched into those sharp eyes, and spat a single word, “Protection.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “From whom?”

The idea that I needed him for anything, let alone protection, was so absurd it almost made me laugh. I could handle my own shit.

I always had.

His answer was a low growl, “Me.”

The word hit like a punch, hanging between us, heavy and undeniable. I arched an eyebrow, silent, daring him to keep going.

“And everyone else who’s looking for you.” The way he said it, so casual, like there weren’t a dozen people desperate to see me dead. Like it was just another day, another threat.

I let out a slow breath, collapsing into the chair next to the pile of papers, rifling through them to give my hands something to do.

Let him think he’d won this round.

Let him have his moment. Bastard.

But the truth was, I already had leverage on Rhea. Maybe not enough to end her, not yet, but what I’d found in Zeno’s little treasure chest was enough to set the whole thing in motion. Enough to put a little fear in her, at least. No way in hell I was sharing that with Aidon.

Trusting him was never in the cards. Digging up dirt on enemies was his entire reason for existing.

Why would I hand him everything when he always had the upper hand?

I didn’t need his protection. Not ever.

What I needed was my freedom.

He thought he owned me, that he controlled me. That I’d bend, break, snap to his will.

He was so goddamn wrong. But if playing his little game got me out of here? Away from Aidon?

Fine. I’d play.

I gave no reaction to the threat he tossed over his shoulder.

Instead, I said as he started to walk away, “I need my phone back, Aidon.”

“Why?” he demanded, his tone all rough edges and warning.

“So I can tell the people who’ll come looking if I disappear that I’m safe. Unless you want someone tearing down your precious penthouse doors?”

He muttered something, annoyance evident as he flicked his wrist, dug my phone from his jacket, and let it drop onto the desk.

The gesture was pure calculated control.

“I probably shouldn’t, but I’m trusting you, Esme.” All of a sudden, he was behind me, his presence a searing heat at my back, his breath hot on my neck.

He leaned in. God, the way it made my skin prickle and my pulse race. It was pure torment.

I hated it. I loved it. I couldn’t untangle the two.

His lips grazed my ear, scorching me. “You’re under my protection, but it lasts as long as I trust you. Don’t give me a reason to change my mind.”

I let myself smile, just a little. “You think you’re in control of me, Aidon. That’s adorable.”

If he wanted a war of wills, I’d make damn sure he never saw me surrender.

He growled again, sharp and deep, then stalked out, the sound of his departure echoing in my chest. A slow, wicked grin crept across my lips. I drove him out of his mind, made him lose control, and the truth of it sent a shiver of dark delight through me.

The second he disappeared, I shot to my feet, heart pounding. I closed the door, fingers trembling, and grabbed my phone.

I texted Selene without hesitation.

ESME: He thinks he owns me. Watch my back.