Julian Raines lost everything—his career, his reputation, and now, his brother. When Bash is kidnapped and set to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, Julian is desperate enough to make a deal with the devil himself. Cassiel Vance is a billionaire with the power to bring men to their knees—or bury them. He agrees to save Bash, but his price is steep: Julian’s hand in marriage. It’s not love. It’s control. But when Julian learns the truth, hatred isn’t enough to stop the war between them from turning into something darker. Something impossible to escape. And when their enemies return, Cassiel makes a move so unthinkable, so monstrous, that Julian is forced to ask himself: What’s more terrifying? The man who stole his freedom… or the fact that he might never want it back?
View MoreThird POVThe warehouse stood on the edge of the city, abandoned long ago, its walls lined with rust and forgotten sins. Faint moonlight slipped through the broken ceiling, casting jagged shadows against the cold concrete floor.Inside, two figures faced each other—one seated at a rusted steel table, fingers idly tapping the surface, the other standing in the dim light, their face obscured by the shadows.The air was thick, humming with something unspoken.The seated figure—the mastermind—tilted their head slightly, amusement curling at their lips.“Punctual. I like that.”The standing figure didn’t respond immediately. Their silence wasn’t uncertainty—it was calculation.“You said you had a plan.”A slow chuckle. “Not just a plan. A guarantee.”The standing figure exhaled. “And what guarantee would that be?”A name fell between them like a blade.“Julian Dantes.”The standing figure’s posture remained rigid, unreadable.“You want him gone.”The seated figure’s lips parted in a sharp,
Third POVThe photographs lay scattered across Julian’s ransacked apartment floor. Each one, a quiet but undeniable testament to just how long Valerian Cross had been watching.Cassiel stood motionless, the dim lighting casting long shadows over his sharp features. His steel-gray eyes swept over the images again—Julian at a piano bar, Julian on the streets, Julian leaving a grocery store—Julian, everywhere.For months.Enzo stood nearby, silent, letting the weight of the discovery sink in.Cassiel exhaled slowly, tapping a single photo against his palm.Valerian had been patient. Too patient.Now, he was making his move.Cassiel slid the photograph between his fingers and handed it to Enzo.“Find out who took these,” he ordered.Enzo nodded, taking the photo. “Whoever it was, they were good. No obvious patterns, no street angles that show a tail. This wasn’t a rush job.”“No,” Cassiel said darkly. “It was calculated.”Enzo’s brows furrowed. “If he’s had eyes on Julian for this long, w
Third POVCassiel leaned back slightly, his steel-gray eyes locked onto Julian’s. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he let the weight of Julian’s demand settle between them like an unspoken challenge.Tell me everything.Julian’s grip on the sheets was tight, his knuckles white. He was still weak, his body recovering from the poison, but his mind was sharp—too sharp.Cassiel knew he wouldn’t let this go.A slow exhale.“Valerian Cross,” Cassiel finally said, his voice low, deliberate. “You know the name. Tell me why.”Julian’s jaw tensed. “No. You first.”Cassiel’s lips curved, but the smile was anything but amused. “You’re in no position to make demands, Julian.”Julian didn’t flinch. “I was nearly murdered in this hospital bed. I think I deserve to know why.”Cassiel studied him. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he sat back down beside the bed.“Valerian isn’t just an enemy,” Cassiel said. “He’s a problem I thought I solved years ago.” His fingers tapped against his thigh. “I was
Third POVCassiel’s grip tightened around the woman’s wrist, crushing the delicate bones beneath his fingers. The syringe trembled in her grasp, the needle’s tip still hovering mere inches above Julian’s IV line.The woman sucked in a sharp breath, her disguise crumbling under his presence.Cassiel hadn’t spoken a word.Yet his silence was more terrifying than any threat.Her breathing turned shallow, frantic. “I—”Cassiel twisted her wrist just enough to send a spike of pain shooting up her arm. Not enough to break it—not yet.“Who sent you?” His voice was low, deadly.She winced, her fingers loosening, but he didn’t let the syringe fall. He caught it effortlessly, holding it between two fingers, his gaze a blade against her skin.He turned it slightly, watching the clear liquid inside swirl. His thumb hovered over the plunger. “You were going to push this into his bloodstream.” His eyes flicked to Julian’s motionless body, his jaw ticking. “I wonder what it would do to you.”She sti
Third POVThe black maybach tore through the streets, slicing through traffic while Cassiel sat in the backseat, shoulders taut, his breathing controlled but sharp. The scent of blood filled his nostrils — blood from the mole.The scent of iron and sweat clung to his skin, soaked into the dark fabric of his ruined shirt. He exhaled through his nose, stripping it off in one fluid motion, revealing the taut muscle underneath. His body bore old scars and fresh reminders of the life he lived.The mole had cracked.Cassiel had heard his voice break, felt his bones shatter beneath his hands. And yet, there had been no relief, no satisfaction—only the lingering knowledge that the real enemy was still out there.And right now, Julian was their target.He pulled on a clean black shirt, rolling his stiff shoulders.“Faster,” he ordered.Enzo didn’t reply, but the engine growled louder, responding to the command in his voice.Cassiel’s phone vibrated with a caller ID from the hospital.He answe
Third POV The warehouse near Cassiel’s private docks was nothing short of a tomb. The dim overhead lights buzzed like dying fireflies, barely illuminating the blood-stained floor beneath them. Rust and salt clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The faint sounds of waves crashing against the docks outside were a cruel contrast to the scene unfolding within these walls. A man was slumped in a steel chair at the center of it all, arms bound behind his back with industrial-strength zip ties. His face was barely recognizable—swollen, bloody, and bruised beyond reason. His breathing came in wet, shaky gasps. Marco stood in front of him, rolling his shoulders as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a cloth. He had spent the last hour breaking the man apart, but so far, the traitor hadn’t uttered a single useful word. A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Marco’s lips curled into a smirk. Cassiel stepped inside, Enzo trailing behind him. The moment
Third POVCassiel stepped out of the blacked-out Maybach, adjusting the cuff of his tailored black shirt as his gaze swept over the upscale restaurant.From the outside, Élan Noir was just another high-end dining establishment—where the city’s elite indulged in overpriced delicacies under dim chandeliers.But Cassiel knew better.This was his.A front and a fortress.The restaurant served two purposes: a place for legitimate business and a hidden nerve center for matters that never made it to legal ledgers. Deals were sealed here, alliances forged, betrayals whispered between bites of steak.Cassiel walked in without a word, his presence immediately noticed.The hostess barely lifted her gaze before nodding toward the back. She knew who he was—what he was. No need for small talk.He moved past the main dining area, where powerful men clinked glasses and their companions laughed at jokes that weren’t funny. His path led to a private section, the lighting softer, the air heavier.A boot
Third POVSunlight bled through the heavy curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. The warmth should have been comforting, but to Julian, it was an unwelcome disturbance.He groaned, stretching lazily before his brain caught up with his body. His hand moved toward the bedside table, fingers brushing the cool surface as his eyes flickered open.The clock glared at him.11:24 AM.Julian froze.His sleep-fogged mind struggled to process it. He never slept in this late. Ever.A slow breath left his lips. His muscles tensed, that familiar unease creeping over him.And then—Cassiel.His head snapped toward the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.The sheets were undisturbed.The pillow was cool.The bastard had been gone for hours.Julian’s jaw clenched as realization struck.He left without explaining.His fingers tightened around the blanket. His pulse pounded in his ears, heat surging to his face.Then—A string of curses tore from his lips, sharp and livid.“You lying, m
Third POVThe estate was quiet.Not the eerie kind of quiet—the dangerous kind. The kind that came after chaos.Cassiel stepped inside, his movements smooth but purposeful, the weight of the night still lingering on his shoulders. His security detail gave subtle nods as he passed, but he barely acknowledged them.The night’s events still clung to his skin like smoke—Valerian’s threats, Renata’s confrontation, and the ever-growing sense that things were shifting, that the battle had begun.He needed a shower, maybe another drink, and then an hour of peace.His thoughts flickered to Julian.A muscle in Cassiel’s jaw twitched. Stubborn little thing. He exited the elevator and his footsteps were silent against the marble floors as he moved through the dimly lit halls, finally pushing open the bedroom door.He didn’t bother turning on the lights as his sharp gaze flicking to the bed. And there he was.Julian lay on the massive bed, curled slightly, chest rising and falling with even breath
Julian’s POVThe air outside Cassiel Morelli’s estate was thick and stifling. Even with the cool night breeze brushing against my skin, I could feel the weight pressing down on my chest. The iron gates had locked behind me with a resounding clang, cutting off any chance of escape—not that I had anywhere else to go.I stood at the entrance, my fists clenched at my sides as the butler led me through towering double doors. The mansion swallowed me whole, drowning me in the feel of wealth that felt suffocating rather than impressive. Marble floors gleamed under dim chandeliers, casting ghostly reflections of me as I moved forward.I hadn’t been in a place like this in a long time. Not since my world had collapsed.Not since Cassiel Morelli had helped destroy it.The butler stopped at another set of doors, polished wood carved with intricate designs. He opened them with a slight bow, stepping aside.I squared my shoulders and walked in.Cassiel was waiting.He sat in a high-backed leather...
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