All Chapters of His Sinful Empire : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I needed to clear my head. The garden had become suffocating after Nico left, the air too thick with questions I couldn’t answer, so I went back inside, wandering the halls with no real destination in mind. The house was quiet at this hour, that strange mid-afternoon stillness where everyone seemed to disappear into their own corners. I turned down a hallway I’d walked a hundred times before, heading toward the library maybe, or the studio, or anywhere that felt less like a cage. Then I saw him. Nico. He was coming from the opposite direction, his hands still in his pockets, that same easy confidence in the way he moved. Like he owned the space without needing to prove it. When he saw me, he stopped. So did I.

The car pulled up in front of a boutique I’d only ever walked past before, this place with a single dress in the window and no price tags because if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford it.Enzo got out first and opened my door, extending his hand like we were on an actual date instead of whatever twisted arrangement this was.I ignored his hand and got out on my own.His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Just gestured toward the entrance where a woman in all black was already opening the door, her smile professional and welcoming.“Mr. Santini,” she said warmly. “We’ve been expecting you.”Of course they had.Because apparently when Enzo Santini decided to take you shopping, the entire store cleared out and waited for your arrival.Inside, it was exactly what I expected. Soft lighting. Cream-colored walls. Racks of clothing that probably cost more than I used to make in a year.“We’ve pulled several options based on your specifications,” the woman said, leading us deeper into

His hand pressed harder against my back. Possessive. “Nico,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” “Last-minute invitation.” Nico’s eyes flicked to his brother, then back to me. “I’m glad I came though. The company is much more interesting than I expected.” Before Enzo could respond, an older man approached, extending his hand. “Santini. Good to see you.” Enzo’s hand left my back to shake the man’s hand, and I felt the loss immediately. “Excuse me,” Enzo said, glancing at me. “I need to handle something. Stay with Nico.” It wasn’t a request. Then he was gone, being led toward a group of men who all looked like they could buy and sell countries if they wanted to. Leaving me alone with his brother. “Well,” Nico said, offering me his arm. “Since my brother just abandoned you, can I get you a drink?” I hesitated, then took his arm. “Please.” We walked to the bar together, and I could feel eyes on us. Wondering who I was. What I was

Sleep wasn’t coming. I’d been staring at the ceiling for two hours, replaying the kiss. His hands. The way he’d grabbed me in the car like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. Then the drug bust, always about business. I threw off the covers and grabbed the robe from the bathroom. The silk was cool against my skin as I tied it and opened the door. The hallway was empty. No standing guard like usual. That should’ve told me something. But I was restless and stupid, so I started walking. No destination. Just movement. Through corridors I knew by heart now… the library, the sitting room, the studio where I’d bled through pointe shoes trying to remember who I was. Then I kept going. Into another wing. The part Rosa had warned me about during that first tour. Where the expensive art stopped and the walls went bare. Where the real business happened. Turn back, some smart part of my brain whispered. I didn’t. Light spilled from a door at the end of the hall.

ENZO’S POV I didn’t go back to my room after I dealt with the body. Stood in my office instead, staring at the spot where the blood had been before my men cleaned it up. They were efficient. Always were. By the time the sun came up, there’d be no evidence that anything had happened here at all. Except in Nina’s head. In her eyes when she’d looked at me through that door, tears streaming down her face, hand pressed to her mouth like she could hold back the horror. I’d seen it before. That exact look. The moment someone realizes what you really are. Not the rumors. Not the reputation. The actual thing. Most people never recovered from it. I poured myself a drink even though it was almost dawn. Drank it standing at the window, watching the gardens lighten with early morning sun. She’d seen me kill a man. Second time she’d witnessed something she shouldn’t have. First the hit in the alley that started all of this. Now this. “You have a habit of witnessing things,” I’d