Page 9 of Forbidden Empire (Sinful Gods #1)
This wasn’t the time to worry. Not tonight. I took another sip of my drink, savoring the sweet, juicy burst of peach that danced across my taste buds. The alcohol hummed through my veins, leaving a warm, fuzzy sensation that started at my toes and spread through my entire body.
It was just what I needed. My shoulders began to sway to the rhythm of the music playing softly in the background, and I let all the worries melt away like sugar in hot tea.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would take the time to analyze everything in detail. If I concluded it was time to leave, then I would make my move.
But for now, I needed another drink. I stood up, my empty glass in hand, and weaved my way through the room toward the bar.
As I passed a poker game in full swing, I couldn't help but smile at the palpable tension hovering over the table.
A group of men sat hunched over their cards, jaws clenched, and brows furrowed, with a single woman among them.
My eyes caught her face as I was passing by, and I paused, intrigued. Her features were taut with concentration, yet inscrutable, embodying the essence of a perfect poker face.
The men around her, however, were far less composed. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and their hands trembled as they clutched their cards. When I noticed the massive stack of chips in the center of the table, I understood the stakes.
A growing crowd gathered around them, and I joined in, our collective breath held in anticipation of the woman’s next move. She exuded sophistication and beauty, her raven hair elegantly coiled into a French twist.
Her appearance was immaculate, from her impeccably tailored dress to her long, black, sharply manicured fingernails, which tapped rhythmically on the table's edge.
My eyes were locked onto her, a sense of familiarity tugging at my memory like a persistent itch.
Who was she?
The question echoed in my mind, just out of reach. She splayed her cards on the green felt table, and the crowd around them collectively inhaled, a sharp gasp slicing through the tension-filled air.
The men facing her turned ashen, their bravado crumbling as they slumped back in their chairs, the weight of defeat heavy on their shoulders. With a confident sweep of her arms, she pulled the pile of chips toward her, a wide grin lighting up her face.
Her expression of triumph was intoxicating.
She met the searing stares of the defeated men with a smile that was as victorious as it was serene, before sweeping the chips into her luxurious Birkin bag.
With a graceful ease, she stood, her presence commanding the room, and walked away, leaving a trail of astonishment in her wake.
I couldn't help but be impressed. She had outplayed them with elegance, catching each one off guard with her undeniable skill. They had clearly underestimated her, and I found myself resonating with her audacity. It mirrored my own experience, living in the shadows day by day.
Aidon and Zeno were undoubtedly hunting for me relentlessly, yet I remained hidden, right under their very noses.
The thrill of evading them sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins, making me feel alive.
Each day, however, it became more evident that I needed to leave.
If I didn’t, I’d be forced into a confrontation that I wasn’t interested in participating in.
Staying in Vegas was too risky, as Selena reminded me with her worried eyes and stern lectures. But leaving meant abandoning unfinished business, which went against every fiber of my being. I hated the thought of walking away from a game before it reached its conclusion.
As the crowd began to disperse, I scanned the faces surrounding me.
The pulsing lights of the club cast colorful shadows on the dancers, who moved to the throbbing beat of the music.
Most people were returning to the dance floor, their bodies swaying, or heading to the bar for another drink, just like me.
I wove through them, my gaze darting from face to face.
I froze in place when my eyes landed on a man near the front door. He stood out, not because of his appearance, but because of his demeanor. He was rigid, his posture unnaturally stiff, as if poised for action. His eyes swept over the crowd with a calculating intensity, just like mine.
And then, as if in slow motion, his eyes locked onto mine. They widened in recognition, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized I recognized him, too.
He was clearly one of Aidon's men, his dark coat and steely demeanor making him stand out in the dimly lit club. His eyes locked onto my face with a laser-like focus as he lunged forward, determination etched into his features.
Panic surged through me.
Damn it. I was too late.
They had tracked me down.
Still, I hadn't been captured just yet.
In a split second, I spun around, blending into the thrumming crowd.
My small frame was an advantage as I slipped between the towering figures, their laughter and movement providing the perfect cover.
With nimble steps, I edged along the perimeter of the crowd, sidestepping dancers until I reached the club's front door.
I risked a glance back and saw him on the balcony, his head swiveling like a hawk searching for prey.
He hadn't spotted me again, not yet. A triumphant grin tugged at my lips as I made my way to the elevator, leaving behind the pulsating lights, the intense music, and Aidon's enforcer lost among them.
Leaning against the cold metal wall of the elevator, I watched as the doors slid shut. My heart thundered in my chest, adrenaline coursing through me.
That had been too close. The closest encounter yet. Selene's words echoed in my mind. Maybe she was right. Perhaps it was time to disappear. For good. Now.