Page 24 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Eleven

E SME

Venomous rage burned through me, hotter than any fire. It wasn’t a simple pulse. It tore through my veins, leaving nothing but raw hunger and the acid bite of desperation.

The ropes cut deeper with every movement, digging into my wrists and ankles until blood slipped warm and slick across my palm.

I should have surrendered, let despair swallow me whole in this windowless cell, but instead I pulled harder, the need for freedom clawing at my insides.

The faint hum of television monitors droned on, mixing with the ragged edge of my breathing.

Beyond the walls, the rhythmic stomp of Rhea’s armed guards was a constant reminder of how I was never alone, not even for a second.

A thin wall separated us. Just that much between me and the taste of freedom I ached for.

I allowed the pain to anchor me, forced myself to breathe, to focus.

The air was heavy with the tang of blood and the electric charge of panic.

I told myself over and over again not to panic.

To breathe. To calm my mind.

But the fury pounded like a war drum, wild and relentless, and logic whispered encouragements that I could take those guards down if I were given the chance.

I gritted my teeth as the rope sliced deeper, my mind a whirlwind of pain and determination.

I wasn’t giving up. Not yet. Not ever.

If Rhea wanted me dead, I’d be dead.

I knew that.

Instead, her men had tied me up, wrists burning, and dumped me in this tiny room. Claustrophobic, yeah, but also…lavish in a strange way.

Like a hotel suite shrunk to the size of a jail cell, and all I could do was wait, breathing through shallow breaths and every muscle aching from the ropes.

For what, though? That was the question.

Why was she keeping me alive? What was Rhea planning?

I let my head fall back, chest heaving, sweat sticking my shirt to my back.

The monitors in front of me flickered with restless, shifting images.

I recognized them now. They were live surveillance feeds of Rhea’s casinos, her resorts, and a handful of dull, gray warehouses scattered across the city.

Her whole empire, mapped out in grainy color, just for me.

I was trapped in the heart of everything she owned, and there was nothing I could do but watch and wait.

She was a fucking force in Vegas.

Over the last few years, she’d scooped up property after property, carving out her territory like a wolf starved and seeing prey.

If she weren’t such a ruthless bitch, I might’ve respected her for it.

However, I couldn’t be impressed.

Not by her.

Not when I knew just how far she’d gone to claw her way to the top, how many people she’d stepped on, crushed, ruined.

Rhea was dirty. She was sly. And nothing but cold, hard ice pumped through her veins.

Everyone knew it, too. If you crossed her, your days were numbered. She wasn’t just playing the game. She hunted. She was a fucking predator who had no problems cheating.

And as my luck had it, I was the latest prey trapped in her net.

The question wasn’t if, but how long she’d toyed with me before tearing me apart, piece by piece.

My time was running out, and if I was going to survive whatever she had planned for me, I needed to keep my focus razor-sharp, attuned to every minute detail.

For what felt like the hundredth time, I scanned the small room, memorizing every nook, cranny, and object.

If I somehow managed to get free, I’d need every scrap of an advantage I could find.

My gaze caught on the doorknob. Locked from the outside. Once these ropes were dealt with, my next move would be straight for that door.

I wasn’t leaving my fate up to her. I was getting the fuck out, no matter what it took.

Every lock had a key. I’d find mine.

That was when it clicked. My heart stuttered in my chest, eyes wide as the door swung open.

Rhea strutted in like the queen of the universe, all attitude and malice.

Her hair was wild, a tangle of ginger curls that made her look like some modern Medusa.

She grinned, but it was the kind of grin that never touched her eyes. Those eyes, by the way, were bright blue and mean as hell.

She wore a black dress so tight it looked painted on, plus these red stilettos that had to be six inches high. Every step made a sharp click on the marble, like a countdown.

She circled me, slow and silent, checking me out like I was on display at the zoo.

I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to beg. Maybe she thought I’d cry, or start bargaining. Honestly, if that was her plan, she was in for a disappointment.

I kept my mouth shut, not even looking at her when she stopped right in front of me, her finger tapping her chin, nails perfect.

“I knew Aidon would come for you,” she said. “The question is, will he arrive fast enough?”

There it was, a challenge, floating between us.

I refused to give her the satisfaction.

I expected her to threaten me. Maybe rough me up, or try to mess with my head. I was ready for all of it.

But there was no way I’d let her win. I looked her right in the eye, to make sure she got the message: I wasn’t scared. She could try whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t break me.

"You think you have control, Esme, but the truth is that you’re just a pawn."

She arched a brow, waiting, but the reply she expected would never come.

With an exasperated exhale, she reached for a remote resting on the desk beside the monitors. A single click and the screens fizzed, shifting to a different feed.

My attention caught on the central monitor, and my breath hitched.

Aidon.

Alone in his Underworld office, hemmed in by maps, disordered stacks of paper, and the clutter of empty whiskey bottles.

He stalked back and forth like a caged predator, his designer suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled to the elbows, knuckles white around a tumbler of amber liquid. The king of Vegas had vanished, and in his place prowled a man consumed by something primal, something desperate.

“Look at him,” Rhea said, chuckling. “It’s quite delicious. Seeing him like this? Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected was losing his shit and looking like a mad scientist or something. It’s good to know he’s human, right?”

She knew I wasn’t going to answer. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Seeing Aidon like that, unraveling, knocked the breath right out of me.

None of that bothered Rhea. She was loving every minute, her laughter swelling until it filled the whole cramped room, thick and poisonous.

“He’s losing himself for you, Esme. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

Still, I wouldn’t say a word. Screw her. I just glared up, wishing my eyes could burn holes straight through her. I set my jaw. If she wanted a reaction, she’d have to keep waiting.

I promised to make her pay for this. That was a vow.

Her time would come, and I would be the one to deliver it.

She rolled her eyes, lips twisting with frustration, and shook her head at my stubborn silence.

Then, without ceremony, she reached right into her ridiculous cleavage and fished out a USB stick.

It thunked onto the table between us.

I knew it instantly: mine.

Her goons must’ve picked my pocket before dumping me in this room. It had been wiped clean when I arrived. Now the only thing it held was the data I’d ripped from her servers.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” She arched a brow, watching me.

I broke eye contact, staring back at the monitors.

Aidon was losing it at Ares, flipping through the maps like a maniac.

I couldn’t hear a thing, but wow, his body language said it all. He looked like he wanted to shatter the whole place.

I wanted to take every ounce of his frustration and just, I wasn’t sure, erase it.

It was on me, all of it.

He was losing his mind because I’d managed to get myself abducted by this absolute psycho, and it was all my fault.

I should’ve bailed a long time ago. Instead, I got cocky, screwed around, and now this was my mess to deal with.

Rhea, now more than pissed at my silent treatment, stalked over until she was right in front of me.

She leaned down, got all up in my face, and grabbed my chin, forcing my head up so I had to look at her.

I clenched my teeth and met her gaze, making sure to glare at her with every ounce of loathing I had. I might not have said a word, but I wanted her to know just how much I hated her right now.

She curled her lips into a slow, wicked grin, then dragged her fingernail along my jaw, taking her sweet time. Standing, she leveled a look at me, gaze sharp as a knife.

“Aidon might be ruthless, but even he has weaknesses. And you, pretty little Esme? You are his greatest weakness of all.”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. She was so sure of herself.

She seriously underestimated Aidon, and yeah, she was going to regret that.

Big time. Probably soon.

I was almost tempted to feel bad for her.

Almost.

The storm brewing inside me threatened to crack me open.

The fury I wanted to let loose on Rhea was at a full rolling boil now.

Whatever pain Aidon would inflict on her, she'd brought it on herself. I almost wanted to laugh at her stupidity. Challenging him so openly, leaving breadcrumbs like she was daring him to follow.

She had a death wish. That was the only rational reason for all of this.

Rhea hadn’t the faintest clue of what kind of monster she’d poked, what sort of cold violence was tucked behind all those designer suits. He was going to destroy her. Rip her into pieces.

The craziest thing? She thought she would be the one to win. Even better, she seemed to think I’d be right there, helping her do it.

Talk about delusional.

How had she honestly survived this long being so clueless?

“If you think I’m going to help you destroy Aidon, you don’t know me at all,” I finally said.

Rhea's smile stretched wider, her crimson-stained lips parting to reveal perfect teeth as she threw her head back.

The laugh that erupted from her throat bounced off the walls, harsh, grating, unhinged, the kind that made the hair on your arms stand up and your fight-or-flight instinct kick into overdrive.

My stomach twisted up.

“Oh, Esme,” she said, breathless and shaking her head like I’d told the world’s funniest joke. “You’ve got me all wrong, darling. I don’t need your help. Least of all to destroy Aidon.”

She looked down at me, clicked her tongue, then bent down again, way too close, staring hard into my eyes.

“I just need you to be his downfall.”

She pushed off the wall and marched for the door, but halfway there she stopped, spun back around, and fixed those wild eyes on me like a pair of angry wings.

I'd faced down the worst Vegas had to offer.

Men who'd buried bodies in the desert without blinking.

Women who'd smile while slipping poison in your drink.

But something crawled behind Rhea's eyes that made those others look like amateurs, something rabid and unhinged that hadn't been there moments before.

"When I'm finished, pretty Esme, Aidon will look at what's left of you and see a stranger."

With that, she yanked the door open and slammed it behind her hard enough to shake the frame, and then she was gone.

The silence after felt like a punch. I was left standing there, bones shaking, every nerve lit with a cold, crawling dread.

On the monitors, Aidon stalked back and forth like a caged predator, hands raking through his dark hair, muscles coiled tight enough to snap. My throat closed around his name, swallowing back the urge to cry out.

I swallowed hard and locked my eyes on his image, letting his rage feed mine, transforming my terror into something I could use. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Whatever nightmare Rhea had scripted for us, I was about to rewrite the ending.