Damian's POV
She doesn't even realize it yet-how much power she's given me the moment her hand brushed against
that pen.
Asha Montero. Flame-haired, sharp-eyed, soft in places she pretends to be made of steel. I've met predators in boardrooms, killers in alleys, kings dressed as men--but none of them ever disarmed me the way she did just by simply existing.
It unsettles me. I don't like being unsettled.
I had the plan drawn years. Revenge is never a spur of the moment indulgence-it's an art. I mapped out every step, every ruin, every downfall of the men who tore my family apart. And at the top of that list is Robert Montero. Her father.
The bastard who smiled while he cut deals soaked in blood. Who shook hands with devils, left my family gutted and my name to burn. I've replayed his downfall in my head a thousand times-how I'd make him watch as everything he built crumbled, how I'd taste his fear as the empire he clung to turned into dust in his hands.
Now his daughter sits across from me, unaware that every line of ink she's about to sign doesn't just bind her to me-it puts the rope around her father's neck.
I leaned back in my chair, watching her hesitation. She bites her lower lip, a nervous habit. God help me, my first instinct isn't cruelty, it's possession. The desire to taste, to claim, to press her against the leather seat and hear her whisper my name like a plea. But I bury it beneath the weight of vengeance. Desire makes men weak.
''Something on your mind, Red?'' I let my voice drop low, teasing, daring.
Her eyes snap to mine, sharp but trembling underneath. ''Only that men like you don't hand out contracts without hidden clauses. A smirk tugs at my lips. Smart. Fierce. ''Then don't sign. Walk away.''
She doesn't move. She can't. We both know it. I've closed every exit. That's the beauty of control-you don't need chains when you've already sealed the doors.
I lean back in my chair, stretching out, deliberately casual. ''Make a choice, Asha. Walk away, or take the deal. Either way, I win.''
Her chin tilts up at that. God, she has fire. But fire burns, and fire also gets consumed. Finally, she exhales, and the pen scratches across the paper. Her signature curves like a promise.
Click.
Just like that, Robert Montero's first brick of destruction is laid.
Before she can pull her hand back, I catch it, my fingers closing around hers. Firm. Possessive. Not letting her pretend this was some meaningless signature. Her gasp is soft, involuntary. But she doesn't pull away. That tells me more than anything.
''Careful, Asha,'' I murmur, my mouth close enough that she feels my breath against her skin. Her pulse stutters beneath her thumb, and I savor it like a drug. ''You didn't just sign a contract. You signed me into your life and I don't let go.''
Her pupils dilate, a mix of fear and something else she can't hide. And God help me, that something feeds the hunger I swore I'd chain.
For a heartbeat, I forget Robert Montero. Forget revenge. All I see is her, red hair glowing under the light, lips parted as if I could steal the next words from her mouth before she even speaks them.
I shouldn't want this. Desire makes men weak. My father taught me that. And weakness is the one thing i cannot allow.
But Asha Montero...she's already breaking rules I set in stone.
''You're enjoying this,'' she whispers, trying to be defiant but betraying herself with the tremor in her tone.
''I enjoy control,'' I answer simply. ''And now I control you.''
Her jaw tightens. ''You think signing a piece of paper makes me yours?''
I smirk. ''No, Red. That just makes it legal.''
She swallows, but doesn't break eye contact. Brave. Or foolish. Maybe both. And that's what makes her dangerous.
Because while I see her as a means to an end-a beautiful pawn in a game she doesn't understand-a part of me is already wondering what happens when the pawn decides she wants to play queen.
I release her hand slowly, deliberately. She flexes her fingers, probably to shake off the chill I left behind, but I know better. That wasn't cold-it was fire.
''You'll regret this,'' she says finally, her voice low.
I stand, circling her chair like a predator assessing its prey. ''No sweetheart. The only one who'll regret this is your father.''
She stiffens at that. There it is-the wound beneath her armor. She loves him, even if he doesn't deserve it, That makes my blade cut deeper.
Robert Montero will watch his empire collapse, his allies turn their backs. This is the revenge I've planned. That's the power I've earned. But as I pause behind Asha, I realize something I hadn't accounted for.
Power feels different when she's in the room.
I lean down, lips near her ear. ''Get used to this, Asha. You're mine now. And when I say mine, I don't mean in contracts or signatures. I mean in every way that counts.''
Her breath shudders. She doesn't reply. She doesn't need to. Silence in this moment, is surrender.
And I'll take it.
For now.
Because while she's the key to my revenge, she may also be the one mistake I can't afford to make.
And the devil's heir doesn't make mistakes.
