I ignored his pointed question, both of us knowing the answer.
“Emotions make people unpredictable, Thal. I don’t care about her relationship with Zeno, but I do care about you, whether you believe it or not. Don’t let Daphne become your weakness, man. Anyone can use her against you in a heartbeat. Trust me, brother. Learn from my mistakes, alright?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze lingering somewhere behind me, somewhere in the past.
“You’re talking about Esme?” I asked, my voice soft in the darkness of his office. Below us, the club buzzed with activity, Vegas’s elite businessmen busy making their latest deals, youngup-and-comers doing their best to kiss ass and climb the ranks of perceived power. But up here, we were doing the real work.
Strategizing. Contemplating. Warning.
“I am,” Aidon admitted, his voice dropping to a hollow, jagged rasp. “If Rhea knows anything, it’s how to hit where it hurts. She didn’t just manipulate Esme. She dismantled her. She found every crack in Esme’s armor and drove a blade into it until nothing was left but blood and regret.”
He leaned across the desk, the office’s amber light making him look like a ghost of the man he used to be. “Rhea won’t hesitate to do the same to Daphne. She’ll find out about your little rooftop meetings and your midnight visits to her bed. She’ll use the heat between you as a fuse to blow both your lives apart. Don’t give her that leverage. A woman like Daphne isn't a shield—she’s a target with a bulls eye on her heart.”
Aidon’s warning about a “soft spot" was a joke. Daphne wasn't a weakness, more a wildfire I’d finally stopped trying to put out. My blood stirred, a heavy, territorial throb tightening my slacks. I could still taste her on my tongue, the copper of her defiance and the sweetness of her surrender. I closed my eyes for a split second, seeing her fingers claw red tracks into my shoulders as my cock claimed her soul. I had just ruined her for anyone else.
“She’ll be the death of you,” Aidon said.
I opened my eyes, the ice returning to my gaze. “Then I’ll be the best-looking corpse in the desert. Because if I can't have her, I'll make sure there's no city left for Zeno to keep her in.”
A cold, dark clarity washed over me. Aidon saw it as a mistake, but I saw it as an awakening. I wasn’t “sleeping with the enemy.” I was reclaiming a part of myself that Zeno had taken ten years earlier.
Asking her to betray the King of Olympus wasn't asking for trouble, it was an invitation to join me in the fire. Did Aidon’swarning make me want to pull back? Fuck no. It made me want to go to her right now, lock her in my suite, and remind her exactly whose brand she wore.
Aidon tilted his head, giving me a curious glance. Did he notice the flicker of doubt in my eyes that I had tried to hide? I was already committed to my plan, mainly with reconnecting with Daphne, and I knew it was too late to back out. So, I wasn’t changing anything, but Aidon was clever.
He was perceptive and sharp-minded. He read me with precision.
“Thal, don't be a fool. Zeno’s influence isn't a choice, but a brand. He’s spent a decade conditioning that girl to be his shadow. Do you really think one night in your bed will erase ten years on his leash? He’ll find out. And when he does, he won't just kill you, he’ll break her just to prove he can.”
His words felt heavy in the air, like a neon sign calling me an idiot.
“Besides, Thal, do you think Zeno would let her go? He’s the most possessive motherfucker I’ve ever known, and his attitude toward Daphne is more intense than anything. He acts like she’s some prized possession, a rare car he’s acquired, the best in his collection. Daphne isn’t going to be let out of his sight.”
Of course, I disagreed with him. In fact, Zeno hadn’t observed what we did last night, had he? I was beginning to realize that I wasn’t the only one who had overestimated Zeno’s influence or underestimated Daphne’s growing independence.
Every day, I observed her becoming more confident in asserting herself. She spent the night with me, had breakfast with me, and afterward returned to her apartment at her own pace, even though we both knew Zeno was monitoring her movements.
Gradually, she was breaking free from Zeno's hold on her. I hoped she would keep progressing along this path, but the fear in Aidon’s eyes reminded me of the stakes.
“I believe you’re underestimating her,” I said. “It’s been three years since Aruba, Aidon. She's no longer that girl on the beach. Though she spent a decade in Zeno’s shadow, she hasn't merely survived him. She’s been learning how to become a ghost. She’s now sharper, colder, and more dangerous than any of us expected.”
Aidon’s eyes widened with worry, and his voice rose. “So, she’s just going to oppose him? Do you have any idea how Zeno will respond? It won’t be a transition, Thal. It’ll be a war.”
I lifted my chin and spoke evenly, making sure he understood I was serious. “I’ve made my decision, Aidon. Please stop worrying about Daphne. I’ve got this under control. I know she does too. She can stand her ground against Zeno in whatever way she needs. Her skills and strength are crucial if we want to defeat Rhea and the syndicate.”
Aidon looked at me across the desk, cautious. “Whatever you say, dude. But keep in mind: Zeno won’t forgive you if this goes wrong. And she won’t forget either.”
I nodded, then rose to my feet. I didn't need his permission, and I certainly didn't need his pity. His warnings were shadows of a past I was determined not to repeat.
As I walked out, the bass from the club below vibrated through the soles of my shoes—a dark, rhythmic pulse that matched the one in my veins. Aidon was right about one thing: Daphne was my weakness. But he was wrong about the rest. She was the only reason I was still breathing.
If Rhea wanted war, I’d give her one. If Zeno wanted his “prize” back, he’d have to pry her from my cold, dead hands. My decision wasn't based on strategy or survival anymore. Itwas a primal, obsessive need to possess the only thing in this godforsaken city that was real.
I stepped into the Vegas night, the neon lights blinding and artificial, and felt the weight of the war ahead. It was a price I’d pay a thousand times over. Because the taste of her surrender was still on my lips, and I’d rather burn in hell for eternity than let another man touch what was mine.
Eight
ANIGHT OF VULNERABILITY
