The air inside the grand ballroom was thick with wealth and whispered secrets. Crystal chandeliers cast golden reflections onto marble floors, and the scent of expensive cologne mixed with the delicate aroma of champagne. Evelyn Monroe moved through the sea of power-hungry elites, her midnight-blue dress clinging to her frame as if it had been stitched onto her skin. She held her champagne flute with poised fingers, though she had no intention of drinking.
She wasn't here to celebrate. She was here to hunt.
Across the room, standing with an air of absolute authority, was Damian Voss. The devil himself in a tailored black suit, his presence commanding attention without needing to speak a word. He was every bit the villain the world painted him to be-sharp-jawed, calculated, and untouchable.
Evelyn's pulse quickened as she observed him from a distance. He was in conversation with a senator, his lips barely moving, yet the man across from him looked like he was hanging on to his every word. Damian Voss didn't beg for power. He simply took it.
Evelyn had spent the past three years investigating him-unraveling the empire he had built from shadows and fear. She had spoken to his victims, the people he had ruined, and those who had mysteriously vanished after crossing him. She had always imagined him as a soulless tyrant, a man too consumed by greed to be human.
But seeing him now, with that smooth smirk and unsettling calm, she wondered if the real danger wasn't in his cruelty-but in his charm.
She forced herself to exhale. Focus. She wasn't here to be dazzled. She was here to expose him.
Evelyn took a step forward, intent on moving closer, but just as she did, his eyes met hers.
A slow, knowing smile curved at the corner of his lips.
Shit.
For a split second, she hesitated. Had she been too obvious? Had he already seen through her? Her cover was airtight-an alias, a forged invitation, and months of preparation. But somehow, in that one glance, it felt like Damian Voss already knew everything.
The music swelled, couples waltzing around them, but neither of them looked away. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering, before gesturing subtly to the bar. An invitation. A challenge.
Evelyn's instincts screamed at her to walk away. But if she did, she would lose her chance.
So, she made her choice.
She walked straight into the lion's den.
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At the bar, the bartender poured a dark amber liquid into Damian's glass before stepping back. Evelyn slid onto the stool beside him, her posture relaxed despite the warning bells in her head.
"You've been watching me," he murmured, his voice smooth like aged whiskey.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, playing coy. "I could say the same about you."
His smirk deepened as he took a sip of his drink, the ice clinking softly. "I make it a habit to notice the most interesting person in the room."
Evelyn ignored the way his voice sent a shiver down her spine. He was good-too good. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up like all the others who underestimated him.
"Flattery?" she mused, tilting her head. "I expected something more original from the infamous Damian Voss."
He let out a low chuckle, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "Ah, so you know who I am."
Evelyn took a sip of her champagne, letting the cool liquid settle her nerves. "You have a reputation."
"And yet, here you are, sitting beside the villain."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her glass. He was testing her, watching for any reaction, any sign that she wasn't who she claimed to be. She couldn't let him win this game-not yet.
"The way I see it," she said smoothly, "powerful men like you thrive on reputation. Whether it's deserved or not, that's another question."
He studied her for a long moment, the silence between them stretching like a razor's edge. Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear.
"Tell me, Evelyn Monroe," he murmured, her real name rolling off his tongue like a dark promise. "Are you here to expose me, or to understand me?"
Her blood ran cold.
He knew.
Not just her name, but her intentions. Her entire world threatened to crumble in an instant.
And yet... he didn't sound angry. He sounded intrigued.
Before she could answer, Damian placed his glass down and straightened. "Let's play a game," he said, his expression unreadable. "One month. You stay in my world, no strings attached. At the end of it, if you still want to destroy me, I won't stop you."
Evelyn's breath caught. Was this a trap? A twisted challenge?
"I'd rather expose you now," she said carefully.
He smirked, knowing she wouldn't walk away so easily. "Then you'll never know the real story."
Her heart pounded. One month. A chance to get closer, to truly uncover his secrets. But also-a chance for him to pull her into his darkness.
Damian Voss extended his hand. A deal with the devil himself.
Evelyn took a shaky breath.
And placed her hand in his.