ICE COLD GAZE
Ice-Cold Gaze
The city doesn't sleep.
It breathes… slowly, nervously—like it knows I'm watching.
Rain slides down the glass walls of my penthouse, painting the night in shadows. Below me, the streets stretch endlessly, crawling with people who think they're free.
They're not.
They belong to me.
I am Damian El Diablo Reyes—the storm that devours empires.
I don't ask.
I command.
I don't request.
I take.
My will is law. My word is absolute. You see me—you obey. You cross me… you disappear.
Simple.
A faint smirk tugs at my lips as I watch the city tremble beneath me. They don't see it, but they feel it—the weight of my presence pressing down on their fragile lives.
Fear.
That's what fuels this world.
And I own it.
I move in silence, like a shadow slipping through the cracks of the night. No warnings. No mercy. By the time they realize I was there… it's already over.
A man once tried to run from me.
He thought distance could save him. Thought hiding in the dark would keep him safe.
He was wrong.
They always are.
Because I am the darkness.
I am the whisper behind your ear.
The chill crawling down your spine.
The reason your heart skips a beat when the lights go out.
You can't hide from me.
You can't run.
I always find what's mine.
I lean back in my chair, fingers tapping slowly against the armrest. Patience has never been my weakness—but lately… it's wearing thin.
This city is mine.
The streets.
The power.
The people.
Everything.
And yet… someone dares to challenge me.
A low chuckle escapes my lips, dark and dangerous.
Interesting.
"Bring him to me," I say calmly, my voice barely above a whisper—but heavy enough to crush bones.
There's a pause on the other end of the line.
Fear.
Good.
"I want him alive," I add. "For now."
I end the call without waiting for a response. They don't need to answer. They know better.
Loyalty is a privilege in my world.
Respect is earned.
And betrayal?
It's a death sentence.
I stand, walking toward the window. The city lights flicker below, unaware of the storm about to break over it.
My reflection stares back at me—cold, unreadable, unforgiving.
A devil wearing a man's face.
If they cross me… they won't just die.
They'll wish they were never born.
A slow, dangerous smile forms on my lips.
Let them come.
The fire inside me has been waiting.
And tonight…
It finally gets to burn.