HIS TO COMMAND

Chapter4

The Serpent’s Game

The restaurant glittered like a palace carved out of glass and gold. Emerald had never seen anything so decadent, yet she couldn’t breathe. Crystal chandeliers spilled soft light across velvet booths, violinists played in the corner, and every polished surface reflected wealth and power. It was the kind of place people dreamed of being invited to—but tonight, she was here as Roman Thorne’s captive shadow.

Roman walked ahead of her, tall and commanding, his black suit cut to perfection. The maître d’ bowed so low Emerald thought he might break in half. Staff hurried to pull out Roman’s chair, and even other diners looked up in hushed awe. The Thornes owned half the city, and Roman wore that fact like a crown.

Emerald sat opposite him, her pulse erratic. She tugged nervously at the cuff of her cream blouse, feeling like a child dragged into a room meant for kings.

Roman didn’t look at the menu. He didn’t need to. “The usual,” he said flatly, and within seconds, the waiter vanished.

Emerald clenched her jaw. “You could have at least asked me what I wanted.”

His gaze flicked towards her, sharp as broken glass. “This is not a date, Emerald. You’re here because appearances matter. Try not to embarrass me.”

Her chest tightened. “You didn’t have to bring me, then.”

Roman leaned back in his chair, his eyes drilling into hers. “On the contrary. Everyone in this city knows what your father did. They expect me to parade his daughter as a trophy, a warning. You’re a reminder of what happens to traitors.”

The words hit like a slap.

She stared at him, heat rushing to her face. “You’re cruel.”

His lips curved faintly, though there was no humor in it. “Cruelty gets results. Don’t confuse it with weakness.”

The waiter returned with two glasses of wine. Roman lifted his but didn’t drink immediately. His phone buzzed, and he answered without hesitation, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmur of the restaurant.

Emerald tried not to listen, but Roman’s words were like gunfire.

“You failed me,” he snapped. “I don’t care about excuses. The contract should’ve been secured last night.” A pause, then his tone dropped to lethal ice. “You’re finished. Don’t bother coming into the office again.”

He ended the call with a single swipe and placed the phone back on the table as though nothing had happened. Emerald blinked at him, stunned.

“You just… fired someone? Over the phone? In the middle of dinner?”

Roman took a sip of wine, unbothered. “When people fail me, they’re removed. I don’t tolerate incompetence.”

Her stomach twisted. “Do you ever stop to think about people’s lives? Their families? What happens to them after you cut them off like that?”

“Not my concern.” He set the glass down. “My empire doesn’t run on sympathy. It runs on fear.”

Emerald looked away, nausea rising in her throat. The violin music suddenly sounded hollow, the chandeliers too bright. For a flicker of a moment, she saw him not as a man, but as a machine built to destroy.

But she refused to let him have the last word.

“Maybe one day,” she said quietly, “fear won’t be enough. And when that day comes, you’ll realize you pushed too hard.”

His eyes darkened, locking on her like a predator. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Careful, Emerald. You’re speaking like someone who wants to be broken.”

She forced herself not to flinch. “Or maybe I’m someone who refuses to be.”

The waiter arrived with their food, breaking the tension. But Roman’s stare lingered, as though carving her defiance into memory.

---

Back at the Thorne estate, shadows lengthened across the grand hall. Emerald escaped to her room the moment they returned, her nerves frayed from enduring Roman’s venom. She thought the night might finally grant her solitude.

She was wrong.

As she passed the east wing, soft laughter drifted from the drawing room. Curious, she slowed her steps. The door was ajar, golden light spilling through the c***k.

Voices murmured inside. Familiar voices.

Emerald froze when she heard Vanessa.

“Damien,” the girlfriend’s silky voice purred, dripping with false sweetness. “You’re wasting yourself hiding in your brother’s shadow. You could have more. You could have me.”

Emerald’s breath caught.

Carefully, she edged closer, peering through the small gap.

Vanessa lounged on the chaise, her red dress clinging to every dangerous curve. She toyed with the strap, sliding it off her shoulder as though by accident. Her legs crossed slowly, deliberately. Across from her stood Damien—Roman’s younger brother—his hands shoved into his pockets, his expression a mix of discomfort and disbelief.

“Vanessa,” Damien said firmly, though his voice wavered. “Stop this. You’re with Roman.”

Vanessa laughed, a low, throaty sound. “Roman doesn’t own me. And let’s be honest, he doesn’t even see me anymore. He’s too busy playing warlord. But you…” She rose from the chaise and prowled closer, her heels echoing softly against the floor. “You look at me like a man should.”

Damien stepped back, his jaw tightening. “You’re wrong. I’m not interested.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Not interested? Or too afraid? That’s your problem, Damien. You hide behind loyalty because you’re weak. That’s why you’ll never have anything of your own. That’s why you’ll always live under your brother like a child.”

The words struck, sharp as daggers. Emerald could see the muscle in Damien’s jaw twitch.

“I’d rather live in Roman’s shadow,” he said tightly, “than betray him the way you just tried to.”

For the first time, Vanessa’s mask slipped. Her smile faltered, her eyes flashing with fury. “You’ll regret that,” she hissed. “One day, when he finally crushes you like he does everyone else.”

She stormed past him, her perfume trailing like smoke. Damien stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

Emerald’s heart pounded. She backed away before he could notice her watching, slipping silently down the corridor.

---

Later that night, Roman intercepted her outside her door. He leaned against the wall, arms folded, as though he had been waiting. His presence filled the hallway, cold and oppressive.

“You’ve been wandering,” he said quietly. Not a question. An accusation.

Emerald forced her voice steady. “I needed air.”

His gaze narrowed, and for a moment she wondered if he knew about Vanessa and Damien. If he had seen her spying. But he said nothing of it. Instead, his voice dropped to a warning growl.

“Stay away from Damien.”

Her breath caught. “Why?”

“Because he doesn’t understand what you are,” Roman said, his tone like steel. “He thinks kindness will save you. But you’re not here to be saved, Emerald. You’re here to learn. To pay. If I see you with him again, I won’t be merciful.”

Her blood turned cold. But anger stirred beneath the fear.

“You think you can control everything,” she whispered, her fists trembling at her sides. “But you can’t control me.”

Roman stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her ear.

“Watch me.”

Then he turned and walked away, leaving her shaking in the empty corridor, his shadow still clinging to her like chains.

---

That night, Emerald lay awake staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying every scene. Roman’s cruelty at the restaurant. Vanessa’s venom toward Damien. Damien’s quiet strength. Roman’s warning.

The walls of the Thorne estate felt closer than ever, suffocating, alive with secrets.

But beneath her fear, something dangerous simmered.

If Vanessa could play her games… if Damien could stand tall against her cruelty… then maybe Emerald could find her own weapon.

Roman thought she w

as nothing but a pawn.

But pawns could still become queens.

And one day soon, she swore, she would turn the board against him.