Damien sat in his shower, replaying the events of the day in his mind. His hands were shaking. It was the first time he had taken a life—the life of a human. At the time, he thought he felt nothing, the adrenaline masking any emotions. But even now, he felt no remorse for what he'd done. His hands trembled, not because of the life he had taken, but because of what it symbolized. He was becoming the very thing he despised most: a cold-hearted killer.
The fear wasn't in the blood he spilled, but in the monster he was slowly turning into.
Sloane stepped into the bathroom, her nightdress flowing around her, the sweet scent of her perfume filling the air. Damien was taken aback. "What are you doing here?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry, sir. I've been knocking for over ten minutes, no answer. So, I came in. Then I heard the shower running and waited, but you didn't come out. I thought something might have happened," she explained.
Damien stood up, his body exposed. Sloane's eyes widened, unable to hide her shock as she took in the sight. She'd never seen a man this way before, and Damien knew she was staring. "Privacy, please?" he asked, his voice tight.
Sloane blushed, her face turning crimson. She quickly covered her eyes and hurriedly left the bathroom. "Why, why do I keep messing up around him?" she muttered under her breath, pinching her skin as though the pain might dull the embarrassment.
She sat on the bed, her nipples visible through the thin fabric of her nightdress, and as Damien emerged from the bathroom, he couldn't help but notice. He had always seen her as his assistant, never really paying attention to her. But now, he couldn't deny it—she was stunning. Dirty thoughts flashed through his mind, and before he could stop it, his body reacted.
Sloane's gaze flicked to his growing arousal. Damien quickly covered it with his hand. "Can you turn?" he asked, his voice strained. She complied, and he quickly dressed. His erection had subsided, but he still felt the tension between them.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I came to discuss today's events and how we should proceed..." Sloane trailed off, catching him staring at her again. Her nipples stiffened under the fabric, and she found herself involuntarily glancing at him. Damien noticed.
"I don't think this is the right time to talk about this," she said, her voice tight.
"Yes. Yes, you're right," Damien agreed quickly, his throat dry. "Let's talk tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Damien," she said, turning to leave.
Damien watched her walk away, captivated by the sway of her hips in the nightdress. As the door clicked shut, he muttered, "Goodnight, Sloane."
---
The next day, the air between Sloane and Damien was thick with tension. Even the maids noticed the shift. Their greetings felt forced, and any conversation was strained.
By evening, the lawyer arrived. Damien had spent the night reflecting on the events and had made his decision about the marriage. After discussing matters with the lawyer, it was time for the main topic.
"Have you made a decision about the marriage?" the lawyer asked.
"Yes," Damien replied, his voice firm. Sloane's eyes widened, filled with anticipation.
"I think I'll go through with the marriage," Damien said.
A rush of anger flared up in Sloane's chest, her emotions unreadable. But the two men were too focused on business to notice.
"Why am I angry?" she thought. "We have nothing. No connection beyond master and assistant. He didn't say he liked me. We never slept together. Why am I upset that he's marrying someone else?"
Sloane tried to calm herself, telling herself it was just a political marriage.
"The marriage is strictly political, right?" Damien asked the lawyer.
"Yes, you don't have to have any personal ties, and you don't even need to have children unless the contract specifies it," the lawyer said.
"Good. Please prepare the marriage contract and inform the Langfords of my decision," Damien instructed.
With the news, Sloane felt a sense of relief wash over her. It was just a political arrangement—nothing more.
Sloane checked her phone, and her demeanor shifted. "Sir, the Pillars have requested a meeting."
"When?" Damien asked.
"Tomorrow at five. I think they want to discuss the port. It's a bad look for us," she said, worry creeping into her voice.
"Don't worry, Sloane. I'll handle it," he reassured her.
---
The Six Pillars gathered at the table, the tension palpable. Everyone knew why they were here: the port. Some had taken significant hits, losing millions, and they were far from happy.
"How could you let this happen? This is the second time we've been hit in a week!" Mikhail complained bitterly.
"I'm working on it. It looks like we have a mole inside. I'll deal with it. It won't happen again," Damien responded.
"This never happened when your father was in charge. He kept us protected. You've only been here two weeks, and already we've lost more than half of what we used to in a year," Diego Montoya added, his tone harsh.
Damien bristled at the comparison to his father. "Everything is getting sorted right now. I'm handling it. We'll find the mole and make whoever did this pay."
"Right now? How are you handling things when information is leaking about one of your main clients?" Diego said, showing Damien a phone screen with a news report about drug trafficking involving one of Blackthorn's clients.
"This is bad. Maria won't take this lightly," Victor Langford, who had been silent until now, spoke up.
"How can we trust you to protect our port if information like this is getting out? You're putting us at risk," Diego added.
"Maybe we should take our business elsewhere before it's too late," Mikhail suggested.
Damien slammed his hand on the table, silence reverberating around the room.
"If you want to leave, you can leave," he said coldly. "But know this: you'll be leaving the winning side. I will take care of this, and when I'm done, no one on the rival side will survive."
"Are you threatening us?" Rafe asked, his voice tense.
"Threatening? Yes, I am. But only my enemies. If you're not one of them, you've got nothing to worry about." Damien stood and turned to leave. "The meeting is adjourned."
As the others argued among themselves, Liang Shen sat silently, observing. "This is your chance to prove yourself, Damien. Let's see how you handle the pressure."