Page 2 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Two

E sme

The moment I stepped into Aidoneus Erebus's penthouse, I sensed the energy of wealth and power.

The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the dazzling Vegas skyline, which shimmered more like false promises than real opportunities.

Every piece of furniture in the apartment was sleek and dark, matching its owner's persona but with a hint of danger woven into its design.

It was as if he wanted to remind anyone who entered that they were on his turf.

My heels clicking against the polished marble floors echoed through the large rooms. Art and sculptures decorated the space, making it welcoming yet intimidating, curated to evoke that feel. A whiskey decanter sat on a low table near a plush leather sofa, accompanied by two crystal glasses.

Was this his way of showing me that he would always be watching, always in control? This polished luxury felt more like a gilded cage.

I wandered through the living room, again drawn toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I looked out at the city lights below, I couldn't help but wonder how many people down there understood the amount of power Aidon held from this very building.

The thought sent shivers down my spine, both exciting and sobering at the same time.

My fingers traced along the edge of the glass coffee table, considering what it would take to shatter its pristine surface.

For a moment, I even entertained thoughts of doing something similar to Aidon himself.

But before I could dwell on those dangerous ideas any longer, a soft chime broke through the silence.

Following the signal, I headed to the bedroom that the butler indicated was mine. Inside, I found a folded set of clothes on the bed, my suitcases already unpacked, and my belongings organized in the drawers.

Aidon's efficiency was almost invasive, but I couldn't help but smirk. He thought he could control me by keeping me here, but little did he know I had learned to navigate his games long ago. The key was never letting him see me sweat.

I poured myself a glass of whiskey and headed to Aidon's office. If he wanted me under his roof, I might as well get comfortable. What better way to stake a claim on his territory than by making myself at home there?

As I walked down the hallway and entered his office, the warm, amber glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, enhancing its commanding presence.

The massive black oak desk shone in the light, and I couldn't resist running my fingers along its edge, imagining all the deals and power plays that had taken place there.

A smile appeared on my lips as I relaxed into Aidon's chair, kicking up my feet on the desk. Its comfort was undeniable, and I could see why he favored it. From here, he had a clear view of his empire, monitoring everything.

I couldn't help but imagine Aidon's voice warning me to stay out of his space.

He would hate to find me sitting in his chair, which made it more tempting to claim a bit of it myself.

As I swirled the whiskey in my hand, soaking in the warmth of his office, I knew this was just another game between us, one that I intended to win.

The sound of the door opening behind me sent a jolt of adrenaline through my veins, but I didn't flinch. His dark eyes locked onto mine, unflinching and filled with that signature mix of irritation and intrigue.

The door swung shut with a decisive click, the sound sharp in the tense room. Aidon entered, his dark suit sharp and precise, every step deliberate and predatory. I watched him, noticing the tight lines of his posture and the narrowing of his eyes as they settled on me lounging in his chair.

"I see you've made yourself comfortable," he said, his voice quiet and tinged with annoyance.

I raised my glass in a teasing toast. "Nice chair. I can see why you like it."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he walked toward me with purpose, stopping just short of the desk and leaning forward until his hands rested on its edge. His presence filled the room, making it feel smaller and more suffocating.

"Get out of it," he commanded, his gaze piercing.

I arched a brow, enjoying the flicker of frustration crossing his features. "And here I thought we were supposed to be partners. Or is this how you treat all your allies?"

Aidon's eyes flashed with anger as he moved closer. His hand came to rest on the armrest of the chair, caging me in.

"Partners require trust," he growled. "Something you haven't earned."

"Trust is overrated," I replied, though my heart was pounding under his intense gaze. "Besides, I wouldn't be here if you didn't trust me even a little."

He didn't deny it, instead moving around the desk to grab the back of the chair, spinning it so I was facing him.

He leaned against the edge of the desk, his hand still on the armrest as if to block my escape.

"Are you trying to provoke me, Esme?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

I tilted my head, meeting his glare without flinching. "Maybe. Is it working?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. "You've always had a talent for pushing limits. But this?" His eyes flicked toward my legs, now sitting tucked on the seat of the chair. "This might be your boldest move yet."

I leaned forward and closed the gap between us. "You know I've never been one to play it safe, Aidon. That's why you like me."

"Like you?" He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against my cheek. "You're a liability I tolerate."

I laughed, the sound echoing through the charged air between us. It was my one defense against this man who smelled so good and prickled every one of my senses.

"Keep telling yourself that." I reached out to run my fingers along the edge of his tie. "If I'm just a liability, why haven't you thrown me out?"

His hand shot out, grabbing my neck and holding it in a firm grip. The sudden contact sparked a buzz over my skin, and neither of us moved for a moment. It was as if years of memories flashed before us.

His eyes darkened, and my pulse hammered.

"Don't mistake my patience for weakness, Esme," he warned, his voice a low growl. "You're here because I need you. Nothing more."

I tilted my head, letting my lips form a slow, teasing smile. "And yet, here we are. You could have left me to fend for myself, but instead, you brought me here. Into your domain. Your sanctuary. Why is that, Aidon?"

His grip on my hand tightened for a fraction of a second before he released it and stepped back. The absence of his touch made me feel colder than I expected. This reaction to him wasn't fair. He tormented me, and he knew it.

"Don't overthink it," he said with composure once more. "Stay out of my office and don't get in my way."

No, I wasn't going to let this be the end.

"Are you afraid of what might happen if I don't?"

He paused at the doorway, his back turned. "Afraid? No. Curious? Always."

With that, he disappeared, leaving me alone in his office, with the lingering heat of his presence and the ache deep inside me.

I leaned back in his chair and shot back the last of my whiskey, savoring the burn as it made its way down to my belly.

I took a deep breath. Aidon thought he could control me, but I was always at my strongest when operating on the edges of control. And I had no intention of playing by his rules.

Later that evening, as I sat in my armchair, I watched the distant city lights flicker against the window, casting a soft glow in the darkened room. I couldn't shake the heavy weight of Aidon's words. They pressed down on me, suffocating and stifling.

His warning echoed in my mind in a non-stop look, cutting deeper than a knife.

After years of mastering indifference, pushing people away, and keeping them at arm's length, why was it Aidon Erebus who affected me this way? Why couldn't I shake off what he made me feel or think? It was so easy with everyone else.

Why not him?

I stood up from the chair, walked to the bar cart, and poured a glass of whiskey. Lifting the glass to catch the last rays of sunset, I watched the amber swirl inside.

I stared into the spirit, hoping to find some answer or clarity. Perhaps it was the challenge he presented, the way he refused to let anyone outplay him, or was it something else, a lure toward him that I couldn't explain or control?

With a heavy sigh, I placed the glass on a nearby table and pressed my palms against its smooth surface. That was when a realization hit me.

At some point in this dangerous game we began playing long ago, I stopped caring about the rules.

I was fucked.