His Most Dangerous Addiction

I don’t believe in fate.I believe in timing, leverage, and control.That’s how I built everything.My name is William Torecampo. If you’ve heard it, it’s probably because of money. Or power. Or something that made people uncomfortable enough to remember me. I don’t mind either way. Fear and respect look the same from a distance.I was twenty-eight when I closed my first billion-dollar deal. People called it luck. Some said I was born into it. They didn’t see the nights I barely slept, the risks I took, the things I had to become just to stay ahead. No one ever sees that part.They just see the result.And the result is simple. I get what I want.Always.At least, that’s what I used to believe.—“Sir, the board is waiting.”I didn’t look up right away. My fingers tapped once against the glass table, slow and steady, the only sound in the room aside from the faint hum of the city outsi

I don’t like being challenged.Especially not in my own game.And right now, standing a few steps away from her, I could already tell—this wasn’t going to be a normal negotiation.Thea Claire Smith didn’t look away.Most people do. They either try too hard to hold eye contact or break it first. It’s predictable. Easy to read.She wasn’t.She held my gaze like it didn’t cost her anything. Like she’d done this before. Like I wasn’t the most dangerous person in the room.That alone made her a problem.“You’ve been digging,” she said, her voice calm, almost uninterested.“I call it preparation.”She tilted her head slightly, studying me. “Preparation usually comes with caution.”“I’m not known for being cautious.”“I noticed.”A faint smirk touched her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes.Behind her, the three men stayed quiet. Good. They finally understood this w

I knew the moment I stepped out of that building—things were already moving.Not slowly.Not quietly.Fast.The kind of fast you don’t notice until it’s already too late.“Sir.”I didn’t answer right away. I was still looking at the entrance behind me, like she might walk out again.She didn’t.Of course she didn’t.“She let you leave,” my head of security said, standing a few steps behind me.I finally turned. “You say that like I needed permission.”“You didn’t,” he replied. “But you got it anyway.”I didn’t respond to that.Because he wasn’t wrong.“Get in the car,” I said.—The drive back felt longer than usual.Not because of traffic.Because my head wasn’t quiet.That doesn’t happen often.I replayed everything.Her words. Her tone. The way she didn’t back down.The way she warned me.Not like a threat.Like a fact.“You’re not normal.”She said it like it was a problem.I see it as an advantage.“Sir, we have updates.”I looked up. “Talk.”“After you left the location, two veh

I don’t like delays.And right now, everything was moving too slowly.Not the world.Not the people.Just the answers.“Sir, internal audit is underway.”I stood by the window, watching the early morning bleed into the skyline. “Underway isn’t done.”“We’re narrowing it down.”“That means nothing.”Silence.Because it doesn’t.“Someone tried to move assets out of my company without leaving a trace,” I continued. “That’s not a mistake. That’s access.”“Yes, sir.”“Which means someone inside knows exactly how I operate.”Another pause.“We’ll find them.”“You will,” I said. “Or I will.”And if it came to that, it wouldn’t be clean.I ended the call before he could respond.—By noon, I was already in the main office.Not the penthouse.Not the private spaces.The real one.Glass walls. Controlled noise. People moving like everything was normal.I walked in, and the atmosphere shifted immediately.It always does.People don’t like being watched by someone who actually sees things.“Good

The city looked calm from above, the kind of calm people trusted too easily, but William knew better than to believe in stillness. Stillness only meant something was waiting. It always did. And now, standing in the quiet of his office long after most of his staff had gone home, he could feel it more clearly than before. Not panic, not pressure, but presence. Something unseen, something patient, something that had already adjusted to him the moment he chose not to walk away.He had spent the last few hours going over every detail again, every report, every movement, every name that kept appearing across systems that were supposed to be separate. The pattern was no longer subtle. It was structured, intentional, layered in a way that told him this had been built long before he ever stepped into it. That realization did not unsettle him. It sharpened him. Because if something was built, it could be broken. It just required knowing where to apply pressure.The problem was, he did not have