Page 26 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Thirteen

A IDON

It took hours before I finally broke, driving nowhere, hands welded to the wheel, jaw locked so tight my teeth felt ready to shatter.

The office, the silence, those still walls, they’d been suffocating. Out here, at least, the engine’s roar gave me something to focus on besides the endless, gnawing images of what Rhea might be doing to Esme.

I blew straight through a red light. Horns blared, distant and muted. I-15 was wide open, just a hot ribbon of asphalt slicing through the city haze, when my phone buzzed against the console.

Ares.

My heart damn near jumped out of my chest. I answered.

He wasted no time. “We found her.”

That was all it took. I yanked the wheel hard left and crossed three lanes without blinking. A semi’s horn screamed at me.

Not caring, the needle shot past the I-215 Beltway. The engine howled, and I realized I was making the same animal noise low in my throat.

Every second counted. Every red light I ran, every car I whipped around, it blurred.

I saw nothing but her. Just Esme. Her face, her eyes, the way she smiled. The way she might never smile again if I didn’t get there fast enough.

Rhea was smart. She’d found my soft spot, the one crack I’d always denied having.

She was counting on it.

Forty-seven minutes, start to finish.

Then I was in front of a mansion in Henderson, shirt clinging, sweat soaking me despite the desert air.

Ares at my right, twelve of our best behind us, every one of them loaded for war.

My pulse pounded so loud it nearly drowned out the world.

Those ornate doors in front of me were the only thing between me and Esme.

“You sure this is it?”

Ares checked his phone. “Confirmed. East wing, second floor. Our guy’s inside.”

I chambered a round. The metallic sound was sharp and final. “I’ll paint these fucking walls with anyone in my way.”

Ares met my eyes, his face hard. “We’re with you, boss.”

The weight of my Glock pressed against my palm, safety off, finger hovering outside the trigger guard. Kevlar hugged my torso like a second skin.

All around me, you could hear the metallic click of safeties coming off. No one bothered with words. Just a bunch of silent nods. We all knew there was a pretty good chance we’d be dead in the next five minutes.

I stared at the mansion. It was ridiculous, honestly. Like something out of a fever dream. Blinding white stucco, palm trees sagging in the dead heat, sun so bright you wanted to claw your eyes out.

Whoever built it had more money than sense. Not a single blade of grass or anything alive, rocks everywhere, shimmering in the heat like coals.

And then there were the gates. Eight feet tall, crowned in metal spikes that screamed “don’t even think about it.”

Security cameras everywhere, I counted twelve.

Each little red light blinked like the whole place was waiting to bite.

Two Escalades, black as sin and probably bulletproof, parked out front. The air above their hoods was so hot it shimmered. Marble lions by the door, looking like they’d eat you if you got too close. Real subtle.

My pulse? Steady. Hands? Rock solid.

The cameras already had my face, beaming it to monitors where assholes with guns would see me and freak out. I hoped they were running around like headless chickens, grabbing rifles and barking orders.

Good. Let them get ready. Let them know who was coming to ruin their day.

I checked my watch.

Ares wouldn’t have dragged me here unless he was sure. The entire mansion screamed Rhea’s taste, all that white marble pretending it was pure, when everyone knew the kind of dirty business that went down in places like this.

I jerked my chin once. “Now.”

Boots hit the top of the iron fence. Metal spikes grazed my calf as I vaulted over. The landing rattled my knees, but I was already moving, Glock slick in my palm.

Behind me, the solid thuds of my crew hitting ground came like a heartbeat, the war kind.

The flash-bang didn’t just take the door off; it exploded it. The boom rattled my teeth, and smoke rolled out in thick sheets. My ears rang, but there were already shouts from inside.

A shadow moved in the haze.

I double tapped his chest before his gun cleared the holster. Another guy rushed from the left, but Ares was faster.

A bullet tore the man’s throat out, spraying the pristine foyer wall with red, modern art courtesy of Ares.

“Three o’clock!” someone yelled.

I pivoted and dropped low. A bullet whizzed past where my head had just been.

I fired back twice. The guy dropped like soggy cardboard.

We pushed forward. Boots crunched on broken glass.

The scent of blood and cordite filled the air, signaling violence.

Four more of Rhea’s men showed up at the living room entrance.

They seemed more competent. The first shot scraped Dmitri’s shoulder, causing him to cry out and fall.

I ducked behind a marble column as bullets shattered it, stone splinters hitting my cheek.

Twenty seconds. That was all it was. But it felt longer.

When the shooting stopped, I was panting, ears ringing, blood trickling warm down my neck, bodies everywhere, tangled on imported tile.

One of Rhea’s men was still making noises, gurgling over a chest wound. Ares finished him off.

“You hit?” Ares asked, giving me a look. His face had someone else’s blood on it.

I pressed the side of my neck. “Scratch. Stairs?”

“Left wing.” He jerked his chin toward the hall. “Second floor, east end.”

I slammed in a fresh mag, the sound loud in the sudden quiet. Every second counted. Esme was in this house, in Rhea’s hands. I refused to let myself picture what that meant.

“Let’s go,” I said, already running.

She was all I could focus on. The thought of Esme burned so hot, I nearly saw her every time I blinked. We hit the landing, boots pounding, and there was another group of men storming down the hall straight at us. I dropped them.

No hesitation, no wasted shots. Each body that hit the floor was a little victory, every spill of blood a step closer to her. Esme.

We tore through the top floor, ripping open doors, one after another, nothing but empty rooms staring back at us. Ares glanced at me, tension buzzing. We were both thinking it now.

What if it was a setup?

What if the intel was shit?

Walking into an ambush was a real possibility.

But we kept moving. No way in hell we’d stop now, not with this much at stake, not with her name echoing in my skull. I wouldn’t let myself think about coming up empty—not when I’d been obsessed with finding Esme. Failure wasn’t possible. Not for me.

Not ever.

The hallway opened up into a sunken living room the size of a small nightclub, all white marble and glass.

My boots stuttered to a stop.

Rhea lounged against a white leather sofa, champagne flute dangling from two perfect fingers, bubbles catching the light like tiny gold bullets. Her red lips curved upward as she took a deliberate sip, eyes fixed on me, unblinking.

Six men in black suits formed a wall around her, hands resting on visible holsters, faces carved from stone. The only sound was her soft chuckle echoing off marble.

The tallest one—a shaved head, neck wider than my thigh—cracked his knuckles on purpose, slow and loud.

Behind me, boots scuffed to a stop. The weight of a dozen stares pressed against my back, waiting.

I felt Ares tense up at my shoulder. The air between both sides felt like it could snap.

“Well, well, well. You do love a dramatic entrance, don’t you, Aidon?”

Rhea’s voice cut through the room, thin as wire.

My finger twitched on the trigger. Every muscle wanted to see her pretty smile splattered across the wall. She raised her champagne in my direction, the gold liquid catching the light, glass shaking just enough to betray her nerves.

Blood rushed in my ears. All I could see was Esme, somewhere in this fortress. Maybe bleeding and maybe screaming. Maybe already dead.

I counted the men flanking Rhea, their holsters, the way they stood, the time it would take to drop each one.

Six men. Six bullets. Nothing complicated.

Rhea was still talking, smooth and full of herself, but I stopped listening. It was just noise. The only thing that mattered was the pulse in my throat, steady and counting down.

I shifted, weight on my toes. Ares caught it, tensing up next to me. We both recognized this. The hush before everything blew apart.

Not blinking or breathing, I let the silence speak as my finger curled tighter on the trigger.

"How's this for dramatic, bitch?" I squeezed the trigger, and the world exploded.

Glass shattered. Marble chipped. The air went thick with gunfire, every shot pounding in my ears. My men opened up beside me, and the sound became one constant, punishing roar.

I dove behind an overturned table. Bullets chewed through the wood, sending splinters across my face and hands. Across the room, Ares pressed himself flat behind a column.

Our eyes met for a split second.

No fear, just focus.

One of Rhea's men popped up, his pistol aimed right at Ares’ head. I put two in his chest. He folded like someone had cut his strings. Another guy tried to swing around on the left. I got him under the jaw.

Blood hit the ceiling in a bright red spray.

Through the mess, I saw a flash of Rhea's crimson dress vanishing down the hallway. She was gone, leaving her men with us.

"Cover me!" I yelled, though I could barely hear myself over the bullets.

I pushed off, staying low, zigzagging between furniture. A bullet skimmed past my ear, so close I felt the heat. Another one punched through the space where my head was a second before.

Then something hit my side, a brutal, white-hot spike between my ribs.

I staggered and caught myself against the wall. My hand came away red with blood.

The pain was sharp, ugly, but underneath it, something hotter burned.

Rage. Focus. Desperation.

Rhea's heels hammered the marble floor, echoing down the corridor. She was running, but I was closing in. Every labored breath edged me closer. Each step was Esme’s name ringing in my chest.

Blood dripped down my side, leaving a trail. I ignored it, jaw clenched so tight my teeth hurt.

Somewhere ahead, Esme waited. And nothing—not bullets, not blood, not Rhea’s entire army—was going to keep me from her.