LOGINDamien’s POV
“No, you should be ashamed of yourself, Mr Damien,” I heard the client yell furiously at me. I moved my face away as saliva from his mouth threatened to touch my well tailored suit. “You promised me the contract and now you’ve given it out? You gave me your word for Christsake!” He barked continuously. I wriggled my nose and looked down at the small man. “You know you shouldn’t be shouting so loudly in a corporate environment, especially when you haven’t brushed your teeth,” I drawled and he flinched back, covering his mouth with his hands immediately. “How dare you?” He barked, his hands still on his mouth. “The question is, how dare you, mr…,” I turned to my secretary and she whispered his name to my ears, “Mr Peter Rodney,” she muttered. “How dare you Peter,” I said, pointing my fingers at him rudely. “You think I wouldn’t find out that you made a deal with The Carlos Inc to grab this contract so you could hand it to them? You insult my intelligence,” I growled slowly at him and his angry expression flipped immediately. “It’s-its really…Mr Damien, it’s really not what you think,” he stammered and I snickered. “And you had the guts to walk into my company and bark at me? Now this is what happens when we teach pigs how to fight, they just roll in dirt and try to get us all dirty as well,” I said coldly. I saw my assistant, Olivia, roll her eyes at what I just said and to be honest, it made no sense to me either, I just came up with it on the spot. “Get the security and throw this pig out of my office,” I said to Olivia and she reached into her purse for her phone. “Hold on…hold on, please wait, I can explain just hear me out one more time,” he protested as security dragged him out of my office, kicking and pleading. Olivia shut the door behind them and I let out a long sigh. God knows I held myself back from beating the living hell out of that man. He dared connive with my sworn rival to play me? The guts! And here I am, thinking I was doing him a favor. My enmity with the Carlos family goes way back to when I was in college. Mr Carlos was my father’s best friend. They opened a company together but my father was the major shareholder. He arranged with some executives and got rid of my father when the company was doing so well. His reason was that my father was not ‘capable’ and that he was mentally unstable. Of course he was, I mean, I had to admit him to an institute but I am my fathers son and could have taken over in his place. They left us dry to die but I fought against fate and five years later, I became their biggest competitor in Tech. “Boss? Boss?” I heard Olivia calling and raised up my head to look at her. “What do you think?” She asked and I looked at her quizzically. She raised an eyebrow and face-slapped herself. “You mean to tell me that I was talking to myself all these times?” “You could just repeat what you said or would you rather ask questions you have answers to?” I retorted, pinching my brows. “No wonder your other assistants left!” She sneered and I jerked my head back up. “So you want to leave as well?” I asked teasingly. I would love nothing else but to have her off my back. Olivia is my best friend and childhood friend, we practically grew up together. She forced herself into my company to work as my assistant when the, is it sixth? I think the seventh assistant left in a roll. Am I really that terrible? “Of course you are terrible!” She yelled. “Did I say that out loud?” I asked, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Damien, I gave you a list of the Christmas decoration ideas I’ve mapped out just as you instructed and…,” “Just go ahead with whichever you think is best,” I said, cutting her off. “Now if you would excuse me, I have…things to attend to,” I said and gave her a knowing look. She rolled her eyes and stood with one hand on her waist like she was about to discipline a child. “When will you stop…” my phone rang, cutting her off mid sentence. I waved my hand dismissively so that I can talk without disruption. I answered the phone, my jaw tightening as I recognized the caller ID. It was my inside contact at Carlos Inc. My pulse quickened with anticipation. “Talk to me,” I said sharply, my voice low so Olivia wouldn't hear. She was still glaring at me, arms crossed in a huff. “They've made their move, Mr Damien. They just signed a contract with the foreign brand we've been pitching for. But that's not all. They're going for the board meeting tomorrow. They want to acquire your subsidiary.” My grip on the phone tightened, fury bubbling beneath the surface. Mr Carlos was more relentless than I thought. Not only did they outmaneuver me with the contract, now they had the nerve to come after my company's assets. “Thanks for the tip. I'll handle it,” I said curtly before hanging up. My mind was already racing through the possibilities. I needed to act fast. The Carlos family had blindsided me once before, but I wasn't the same man anymore. Olivia was still standing there, her glare softening when she saw the change in my expression. “What happened?” She asked, concern creeping into her voice. “Carlos Inc. just signed a contract with the A & L brand. But that's not the worst of it,” I said, pushing back my chair and standing abruptly. “They're targeting my subsidiary. Tomorrow, they'll make their move.” Olivia's eyes widened. “What are you going to do?” I straightened my suit jacket, my mind already ten steps ahead. “I'm going to make sure Mr Carlos Osmond regrets underestimating me. Contact legal and get our acquisition papers ready. We're going to hit them where it hurts.” Just as I started to walk out of the office, Olivia grabbed my arm. “Damien, don't let this obsession with the Carlos family get you into more trouble. You've worked too hard to lose everything again.” “It's not an obsession, Olivia. It's my fate. And I'm not losing,” I replied, shrugging her off. I stepped out of the office, dialing another number as I made my way to the elevator. “Gerald, I need you to prepare for tomorrow's board meeting. Also, send me Mrs Osmond’s current location,” I said with a sinister smirk playing on my lips. Time to pay our sugar mummy a visit.Isabella’s POVThe TV was still frozen on that last frozen frame…the chaotic swarm of reporters and protesters outside the precinct…when the feed suddenly jolted back to life.A black cargo van had screeched to a stop right in front of the station steps. The side door flew open. Two figures…hooded, moving fast…shoved a bound woman out onto the concrete. She hit the ground hard on her knees, hands zip-tied behind her back, ankles bound together, duct tape wrapped tight across her mouth. A large white poster board was duct-taped to her chest in big black marker letters:I AM THE MASTERMINDThe van peeled away before anyone could react.The crowd exploded.Reporters surged forward like a tidal wave, cameras flashing, microphones thrusting toward her face. Phones were held high, live-streaming everything. Protesters pushed against the barriers, screaming questions. “Who are you?!” “Why did you target Damien Voss?!” “Talk!”The woman struggled against the restraints, muffled sounds coming
Isabella’s POVThe living room of the Voss estate felt like a war room nobody had bothered to clean up…empty coffee mugs everywhere, blankets thrown over chairs, phones charging on every surface. Last night was hell. Nobody got more than twenty minutes of real sleep. Every buzz from the gate intercom, every notification chime, every random car horn outside had us bolting upright like we were under attack. By morning Gerald and Jaxon were already gone, stationed at the police precinct like sentinels. Gerald flat-out refused to leave…he kept his stance about how the first investigation had been “a setup from the beginning” and how he wasn’t letting this new team pull the same tricks.Now we were all glued to the massive flat-screen in the living room. Ellie, Agnes, Jace…who’d shown up maybe two hours ago looking like he hadn’t slept in days either, and me. The news feed was live from outside the precinct downtown. Reporters swarmed the steps like vultures, microphones thrust at anyon
Horace Villa****But it was.Out on the patio, lit by the harsh glow of the security lights, lay a crumpled bundle that shouldn't exist. A bloodied piece of cloth…stained with rusty, dried blood…and right beside it, glinting under the moon, a knife. The knife. The one Olivia had gripped so tightly that night, the one she'd plunged into Cleo's body over and over after choking the life out of her.Olivia's breath caught in her throat. She bolted for the door, yanking it open with a force that made the hinges creak. The cold evening air hit her like a slap, but she didn't stop until she was right outside, skidding to a halt just beyond the threshold. Her mouth fell open, wide and frozen in shock, as she stared down at the horror in front of her. Speechless. Utterly speechless. The world narrowed to that bundle…what looked like the top Cleo had been wearing that day, the simple black blouse now torn and crusted with blood that had once been fresh and warm.The others piled out after her
Horace Villa****The woman on the phone started laughing again, louder this time, wild and sharp, like glass breaking in slow motion. “Bet you’re really curious huh? Whose blood could it be?” She repeated, in a singsong tone.Olivia’s voice cracked as she spiraled. “Who the hell are you?!” she screamed into the room, even though the phone was in Osmond’s hand. “What gave you the confidence to act this crazy? Answer me!”The laughter cut off suddenly.“It’s me, silly,” the voice said, sweet as poison. “It’s your home girl, Cleo. The one and only.”Olivia’s head snapped up in shock. Her eyes went huge, like someone had punched her in the soul.“Cle…Cleo?” she stuttered. Then her legs gave out immediately.She dropped straight to the floor in a heap, knees slamming hard against the wood. Her chest started heaving, tight and painful, like her ribs were caving in. She clutched at her shirt, gasping, face turning red then white then red again.Her father rushed over, dropping down beside h
Horace Villa****Olivia’s face went from pale to flushed red in seconds, like someone had flipped a switch inside her. She gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white, and without a word she started pacing the living room…fast, angry steps that slapped against the old wooden floor. Back and forth, back and forth, like a tiger stuck in a cage too small for its rage.Osmond watched her for a second, eyebrows drawn together. “Olivia,” he said, voice low but sharp. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”She didn’t even look at him. Just kept pacing, phone glued to her ear, lips pressed into a thin, furious line.He tried again, louder. “Olivia! Fucking say something!”Still nothing. Whatever was being said on the other end had her completely locked in, eyes wide, breathing shallow and quick.Osmond’s patience snapped. He jerked his chin at one of his men…the biggest one, built like a refrigerator with arms. The guy stepped forward without a word. Olivia saw him coming too late…she twist
Horace Villa****Olivia’s pulse spiked so hard she felt it in her throat.Her pulse thundered in her ears.Could it be Damien’s men? Had suspicion finally found its way to her door? Had his people somehow traced the plan back here?What if they’d heard something…just enough to connect the dots…and decided to end the masterminds behind the arrest, starting with her family?Her breath hitched.Or worse…what if it was the police?What if someone had talked? What if one careless whisper had unraveled everything she’d fought so hard to bury? What if Osmond turned against her, and sold her out to the authorities?The thought curdled in her chest, cold and suffocating. For a split second, blind panic flooded her…who could it be? Who could have followed her? Who knew about this place? Had someone tailed her after all? But then reason clawed its way in.Wait.It could be them after all. The crew she’d hired…the professionals who were supposed to stage the diversion, crash the transport, and







