Chapter 2 – The Weight of Power
Dominic Vierra moved with a predator's grace—every step measured, controlled, deliberate. Standing six-foot-three with broad shoulders that stretched the tailored fabric of his dark navy suit, his body was a masterpiece carved from discipline and dominance. Years spent in the gym, and a life forged through sheer will, had given him a physique that belonged on a magazine cover: sculpted chest, tight abs, and arms that could crush steel.
Women often caught themselves staring, drawn like moths to a flame he never bothered to feed. They whispered about his piercing gray eyes—cold, calculating, yet somehow magnetic—about the square jaw dusted with just enough stubble to hint at danger. But Dominic wasn't a man who had time for fleeting pleasures. His body was a weapon, his mind a fortress, and neither tolerated distractions.
Because in his world, power was currency. And Dominic had debts to collect.
The office tower overlooking the city was a cathedral to capitalism, glass walls reflecting the endless pulse of the metropolis below. Inside, Dominic's executive floor hummed with purpose. His team—some loyal, some merely transactional—were all indispensable cogs in his sprawling empire.
Marissa Hale, sharp-eyed and sharp-tongued, was already running through the morning's agenda when Dominic stepped into the room. He didn't bother with greetings. There was no time for small talk.
"Status on the European acquisition?" Dominic asked, voice like steel.
Bryce adjusted his tie, looking nervous. "Due diligence flagged some legal complications in the German subsidiary. We're working through them."
Dominic's gaze hardened. "Fix it. No excuses."
Peter, the legal eagle with a penchant for caution, raised his hand. "There's also an insider leak we need to investigate—someone's been passing our negotiation strategies."
Dominic's jaw tightened. "Find out who. And make it vanish."
He paced the length of the room, the heavy leather soles of his shoes echoing in the silence. This was his battlefield. Every decision, every move was a calculated strike. He didn't do friendship. He didn't do loyalty—only utility.
Because when you sit at the top, everyone wants a piece of you. And you have to be ready to fight for every inch.
Back in his private office, Dominic stripped off his jacket, revealing the hard lines of his physique beneath a perfectly fitted black shirt. The fabric clung to muscles that flexed with every breath. His hands, strong and calloused from years of relentless work, ran through his thick black hair.
The door opened quietly, and Marissa stepped in, tablet in hand.
"Dominic," she said, eyes flicking over the data. "We've identified the leak. It's coming from the Berlin team—one of the junior execs."
He didn't look up. "Contain it. Quietly."
Marissa hesitated. "There's also the consultant you asked about. She's arrived in the city. Ready for the meeting."
Dominic's eyes lifted, sharp as a blade. "Good. Schedule it."
Dominic's life was a tightrope walk between control and chaos. Every deal was a gamble, every alliance a potential trap. And while others sought comfort in relationships or distractions, he buried himself in work. His body ached sometimes—not from injury, but from neglect. Nights spent alone in his penthouse, the silence broken only by the city's distant roar.
He didn't want company. Didn't need it.
But power was lonely.
The door to his office opened again. This time it was Peter, with a file in hand.
"There's been a request for a private meeting," Peter said quietly. "From someone calling herself Kira Evans. She claims to have information that could shift the balance in your favor."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Who's she?"
"A wildcard. Independent investigator. Reputation for digging deep—sometimes too deep."
Dominic smirked. "Perfect. Set it up."
As the day faded into night, Dominic stared out over the glittering skyline, his reflection staring back at him—a man forged by ambition, haunted by his own power.
He was a king without a kingdom, a fortress with no walls to keep out loneliness. But he'd rather burn the world down than let anyone see the cracks.