Page 38 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)

Our empires were too intertwined, our secrets too deeply buried together. They'd sooner cut off their own hands than destroy the man who kept their worlds intact.

I leaned forward, my fingertips hovering over the blueprint.

"Here's our approach."

The door crashed against the wall before I could continue.

Esme appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light.

Four hands moved to four weapons in perfect synchronicity, then stopped mid-motion.

The room went still. Esme. Here.

Zeno was the first to snap, “You shouldn’t be here!”

Without flinching, she closed the distance in three sure steps, dropped a folder onto the table with a dull slap, and leveled us with a gaze that dared us to move. Unbothered, she glanced at Zeno’s pointed finger, a slow, wicked brow arching.

“Try to stop me, dear brother,” she murmured, mouth curling into a smirk. The challenge hovered, thick and electric, between us.

My eyes locked on her before I could stop myself. The black satin of her blouse caught the light as she moved, the fabric shifting against her body with each breath.

Her hair was pinned up, but rebellious strands had worked themselves free to frame her face, drawing attention to the yellowing bruises beneath.

Those marks were healing day by day, though the memory of her injuries still cut through me like a blade.

She was a force of nature standing there. But what held me captive was the steel in her gaze, that unflinching challenge that dared anyone to question her presence.

I adjusted my position, fighting for composure as I watched her square off against the others.

Her chin tilted upward, eyes narrowing as if silently daring them to try removing her from the room.

The already dense atmosphere in my office transformed instantly, charged particles seeming to dance in the space between us, her arrival turning our careful détente into something far more combustible.

“Esme. Sit,” I said, nodding at the empty chair beside Ares. “Tell us what’s in the folder.”

She inhaled, deep, steadying, then let it out. “It’s my contribution.”

“Nobody asked you to get involved,” Zeno snarled.

She shot him a look, cool and edged. “Didn’t realize I needed an invitation, Zeno. Did you get yours delivered by pigeon, or…?”

The sarcasm dripped off every syllable, baiting him, and she didn’t even bother to hide it. Their battles were old, ugly, bruised from years inside the ring. I knew better than to step in.

“We’re all here for a reason,” I said. “That includes Esme.”

"Thank you, Aidon," she murmured.

Her smile cut through the professional facade I'd constructed for this meeting like a stiletto through silk.

"I've gathered intel on Rhea, everything from guard rotations to property holdings.

But the real prize?" She tapped a manicured nail against the folder.

"Access codes. Not just her digital systems, but banking credentials.

Those offshore accounts funding her operation? We could freeze them with a keystroke."

Thal leaned forward, elbows on the table. His gaze traveled from the folder up to Esme's face, then dropped to where her blouse gaped open at the collar. My fingers tightened around my glass until I feared it might shatter.

"What's your angle here?" he asked, while his eyes remained predatory.

“To help,” Esme said, brittle and blasé. “I want to see her destroyed just as much as the rest of you.”

Thal’s gaze lingered, his nod slow, deliberate. “Is that so? Why?”

She shrugged, evasive. “I have my reasons.”

Zeno’s eyes roved over her face, lingering on the mottled bruises. “Would those bruises be part of your motivation?”

A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of Esme’s mouth. “Is that a hint of concern I hear, dear brother?” She was provoking him, toying with matches in a room drenched in gasoline. Maybe she wanted to watch it all go up in flames.

He only grunted, jaw clenched so tight it might shatter.

Zeno vibrated with contained violence—a grenade with its pin half-pulled. His reputation for unpredictable brutality preceded him like a shadow.

Esme wasn’t alone in that.

“I like her,” Thal murmured, sidelong glance at me, lips curling into a smirk.

Zeno bristled, rage radiating from him in waves. At any moment, I expected him to snap, shatter the tension with an outburst. “This isn’t a fucking game.”

“It never was.”

Esme's accusation lingered in the air like gunpowder after a shot. Zeno's silence was admission enough. Four pairs of eyes locked in a Mexican standoff, muscles tensed, jaws clenched, waiting for someone to crack first.

"Enough," I growled, my palm slapping the table. "This isn't helping." The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees, but nobody moved.

"If I may," Ares leaned forward. "Our intelligence suggests a three-point strike would cripple Rhea's entire network."

My eyes met his. A nod passed between us, an unspoken understanding that the real enemy wasn't sitting at this table.

“Yeah, Ares is right,” I said. “We hit her all at once. First, the power grid. We tear it down, take the lights, kill Rhea’s eyes and ears.

Then we go in, every team, everybody we’ve got, right through the perimeter.

Flash bombs next. It’ll blind them, confuse the hell out of them, and we move while they’re staggering, attacking from every side all at once.

Our people, her people, it’s chaos, and we want it that way.

And while everything’s burning, we lay into them online.

We hit the banking system, the comms, everything she needs to crawl out of there alive. Rhea’s not getting away this time.”

“Just for good measure,” Esme said. “I had her put on the no-fly terrorist watch list. She’s not going anywhere. Not by plane.”

That got my attention.

I stared at her, thrown off-balance. She hadn’t told me that part. I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I respected her for being ruthless, but did that mean she thought we’d lose?

Was she hedging her bets?

The doubt nagged at me, but I forced myself to nod, to keep moving forward. Zeno shot us a look, all suspicion and heat, but I ignored it and kept going.

“Can I say something else?” Esme asked. “It’s obvious.

Rhea wants Aidon. She used me, dangled me in front of him like bait, to lure him out.

She said so herself. So we need to remember that.

She’ll use me however she can to get at him.

” Esme’s eyes flashed, her breath catching.

“I don’t know what you did to her, Aidon, but she wants you ruined. She’ll stop at nothing.”

“She can try,” I muttered.

“She’s not getting anywhere near you,” Ares cut in, his gaze flicking to Esme, all steel and resolve. He’d heard her.

Esme nodded, slow and deliberate, a shiver running through her. “Thank you. Rhea won’t hesitate to twist whatever is unresolved between us. She’ll use every crack. We can’t forget who the real enemy is.”

“Esme’s right,” I said, rising to my feet, the words slicing through the thick tension in the room. “Are we all on board here?”

Thal nodded, mouth set, eyes hooded. “I’m down.”

The finality of it was a heavy weight between us.

“Yeah, me too, I guess,” Zeno muttered, reluctance clinging to every syllable.

Ares was already pushing to his feet, energy crackling from him, turning toward me with a sly tilt of his head.

“I’ll send you all the detailed plans on an encrypted chat tonight.” There was something hungry in the way he watched me, waiting for my command. “Anything else for now, boss?”

“No, thank you, Ares.”

He left, boots echoing in the hallway, and then it was the four of us and the air bristling with old grudges, exhaustion grinding down whatever patience I had left.

“Okay, we’ll be in touch. Thank you for coming.” I moved toward the door, needing space, needing distance, but Zeno spoke, cutting through the haze.

“Aidon. A word?”

I stopped, turning to face him.

However, my gaze flicked to Thal and Esme, dismissing them.

They slipped out the door, closing it behind them.

“What can I do for you?”

He studied me, his focus intense. “Listen. Esme can be a problem, Aidon. She’s unpredictable and fucking wild half the time. The rest, she’s plain stupid.”

“She’s your sister,” I shot back.

He smirked, not the least bit offended. “Yeah, and I know her a hell of a lot better than you do. I’m just saying: call it however you want, let her come or not. But if she gets in the way, you’d better know what needs to be done.”

His gaze cut straight through me, cold, expecting.

Rage tore up my spine, hot and sudden. My hands balled into fists at my sides. I stepped in, close enough to smell the smoke of his threat, my eyes locked on his, daring him to look away, daring him to test me.

“Zeno,” I bit out. “I don’t give a fuck who you think you are. If you touch even one hair on Esme’s head, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide with fury.

Every word I said, I meant, loud and raw and right between us. The tension was electric, a current snapping in the air as Zeno stared me down, chest rising and falling, lips pressed thin. This dance between us was old, practically ritual by now, and neither of us ever knew how to let it go.

“We can end this now, if that’s what you want, brother.”

The words came out sharp, biting, almost a dare. I wanted him to take the bait. Needed it, truth be told. After everything with Esme, my nerves were shot to hell, and the anger roiling inside me was a live wire, sparking and begging to be unleashed.

I raised my chin, meeting his gaze, refusing to blink first.

For a second, he looked like he might lunge.

Instead, Zeno pivoted, boots heavy over the floor as he stalked out, leaving me alone with the fire raging in my blood. I huffed out a breath, a jagged smirk twisting my lips. The fury had nowhere to go, not yet.

But it was still there, burning.

I stalked to the balcony, staring down at the club.

It was a riot tonight, the crowd wild and oblivious, drunk on music and booze and the illusion of safety. No one below had a clue what was being plotted above their heads.

If we pulled this off, everything would change. There'd be no going back. Vegas would bear new scars, and half these people would find their lives turned upside down by morning.

The risk loomed large. I clenched my jaw, my eyes fixed on the target. Rhea had to go. There was no other option. I would see her destroyed or die trying.

Esme came up without warning. One moment I was alone, the next her arms closed tight around my waist, a blindside, a comfort, and a demand all at once. I closed my hands over hers, our fingers locking together.

I drew in a breath, and the world steadied. Christ, the things she did to me. How the hell could she light me up like an inferno and, in the same breath, soothe me to the bone? I’d never get used to it. I didn’t want to.

She slipped past me, forcing me to look at her. That face: gorgeous, battered, defiant.

Her eyes locked on mine, electric, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe.

She’d been through hell, and she was still here, shining up at me. The storm inside me stilled, went calm, and I knew what I had to do.

"Ready for war?" I asked, cupping her cheek like I needed her to know I was right there, that I wasn't going anywhere.

"With you? Always," she answered, not even blinking, just leaning into my touch and letting me in.

I yanked her closer, arms circling, desperate and all-consuming.

For the first time, it hit me, raw and real, just how much I needed her, how I couldn't stand the thought of letting this woman go—not now, not ever.