Damon Roy, twenty-nine, lived alone in a sprawling villa where privacy was enforced like law. His security was so airtight that even the most relentless paparazzi failed to capture a glimpse of his personal life. To the world, Damon was a king—an empire-builder who owned hotels, malls, restaurants, IT companies, and casinos. But beneath the polished surface, his true reign stretched further. Damon had deep ties with the mafia, and betrayal was the one sin he never forgave.
He trusted no one—except Alex. Alex had been his secretary for years, but more importantly, he was Damon's childhood friend. With Alex, instructions were never repeated; efficiency and loyalty were understood.
"Alex," Damon said that morning, his tone clipped but calm, "clear my schedule for today. I'm going to see Lily."
Alex hesitated. "Sir, you have an important meeting—"
"Alex," Damon cut him off, his eyes cold. "Tell me. What's more important? The meeting—or Lily?"
Alex lowered his gaze. "Madam is important, sir. I'll handle the meeting."
Damon gave a single nod. That was the end of the discussion.
Later, Damon arrived at one of the villas he had gifted Lily on her birthday. She greeted him with the excited smile of someone who had grown used to surprises. They drove together to a private restaurant, where every detail of the evening—decor, music, food—had been arranged under Damon's personal orders.
"Where's my surprise?" Lily asked, eyes sparkling.
"On the way," Damon replied smoothly. "Eat first, before it gets cold."
They dined on her favorite dishes, and halfway through, she spoke. "Damon, I'll be going to my grandmother's house. She's unwell and wants to see me and my brother. I'll be gone a week."
Damon's lips curved into the faintest smile. "A whole week? I don't think I can stand not seeing you. But she's your grandmother—I can't deny you that. Return quickly."
"Of course," Lily said lightly.
When the meal ended, a waiter leaned in and murmured something to Damon. Damon's expression didn't change, but his eyes gleamed.
"Lily," he said, "your surprise is ready."
Her face lit up, expectant as a child. Damon took a small remote from the waiter and pressed a button. A massive screen lowered. The video began to play.
Lily's smile froze.
On the screen, grainy but unmistakable, was Lily herself—laughing in a VIP casino room with Sam, Damon's fiercest business rival. Damon watched her watch herself as the scene unfolded: her hand brushing Sam's arm, her voice whispering as she passed him a flash drive. Damon knew the contents well—confidential bidding information stolen straight from his study. In return, Sam pressed two bags of cash into her eager hands.
The video ended.
Silence fell, thick and suffocating. Damon rose from his chair. His mask of the doting lover fell away, revealing the ruthless king beneath. Lily's breath caught. She understood—this was her last night alive.
"Lily," Damon said quietly, almost tenderly, "you knew how much I despise betrayal. And yet you chose to sell me for two bags of money." His voice hardened. "I'm so very disappointed."
He helped her to her feet, guiding her toward the railing of the restaurant's rooftop terrace. They were on the 140th floor, the city sprawling far below like a sea of stars. His touch was gentle, but his presence was deadly.
Her voice shook. "Damon… it's not what it looks like. Please, believe me. I can explain."
"Yes, honey," Damon murmured, almost amused. "I'm listening. You have time. Convince me. And if I believe you… perhaps you'll live."
Lily swallowed hard. She knew Damon's calmness was far more terrifying than anger.
And she also knew—time was running out.