CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVLucian left the room, leaving me— his disappointment in the dark.The first thing I noticed wasn't the guilt. It was the sting. A fresh one—low on my wrist, diagonal, red. Lying upon the already dark marks upon my wrist begging me to stop this torture maybe they are also tired of me living my life like this.like I have any choice.I'd done it in the bathroom, sometime between 1 a.m. and 2, when I came back from the failed mission. I think. Not deep. Not like that. I'm not suicidal. Not anymore.This isn't about dying. I don't want to die anymore but this is.This is about punishment.For slipping.For failing. For letting Edward vanish into the smoke.For letting him—Caisen—get too close.For getting on my knees... not for the mission, but for him.I press a hand over the cut, watching it stings under the gauze. The pain is dull now, muted under the bandage, but the shame is fresh—like acid in my bloodstream. This is how I atone. Not in prayer. Not in penance. B
CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVThe hallway was dim, lit only by red neon bleeding through the frosted glass. My boots echoed down the corridor as I headed toward the VIP room—the one I had carefully mapped out, watched from a distance, waited two damn years to breach.It should've been routine.But nothing about this night had gone according to plan.I pushed open the heavy velvet curtain, stepped in—And stopped.Empty.No laughter. No guards. No scotch glasses clinking over hushed bribes. No scent of cigars or sweat-soaked threats.Just emptiness. The monster was gone.Edward Miller.He had been here. I know he had.And now he was gone.Slipped through my fingers like smoke while I was busy on my knees... for someone else.My fists clenched at my sides.The mic was still in my pocket—untouched. The plan, shattered. The evidence? Lost to the dark.And Lucian?What the hell was I going to tell him?That I failed? That Edward vanished while I was too busy keeping Caisen from blowing the entire
CONRAD WILLIAM'S POV"If you are going to show me this attitude, then do it while you choke upon my dick."He grabbed me by collar, make me stand on my knees and face his half-erected bulge.while he took out a cigarette to blow & light it up."You better have some skills, to justify this slutty attitude of yours or else you know me."When I say Caisen Valentine isn't someone you cross—I mean it. This man will erase you so clean, the world won't even remember you existed.He's patient, sure. Smiles like nothing touches him. But the second that patience snaps?God help you.I've seen him ruin people. Break bones, crush throats, end lives—without flinching. All because he wanted something.And Caisen always gets what he wants.I brushed my face against his pants; my teeth took the zipper of his pants down. Meanwhile my eyes stayed on him making an eye contact looking at him in seduction.I took out his cock from his pants, with a piercing on the crown and definitely too big for me.I've
CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVThe lights were too bright. The music too loud. My breathing? Too uneven.I stood in the middle of the club wearing the most outrageous outfit I could find—black mesh shirt, glitter around my eyes, leather pants that screamed "notice me" even though I'd kill to disappear.I bought it all from the mall two hours before walking in here. Not my style. Not my comfort.But I needed a new skin tonight. Something loud enough to distract from the tremble beneath.Because I knew who I was here for.Him.The monster who made me what I am. Who branded my shame like a scar that never faded. And who, according to intel, would show up any minute.I didn't tell anyone how much my hands were shaking. Not Lucian. Not Ilya. I insisted on coming alone. I was stubborn about that. I said it was my mission, my revenge.But truth?I didn't want anyone else to see me like this. Weak. Fractured. Teetering on the edge of becoming that boy again.Sixteen.Helpless.Naked in someone else's v
I dressed in silence. All black. Sharp lines. Neat cuffs. A costume of control.By the time I stepped into Throne Enterprises, the world was too loud. My hands wouldn't stop trembling. So I buried them in my pockets and wore my stillness like armor.Lucian was already there—talking to someone on call, smiling in that lovesick, sickening way only someone in love could."Yes, I'll bring those flowers," he said, soft like velvet. "No, Caelen, you don't need to remind me. I'm not a fool."I looked at him—really looked.And something inside me cracked.Not because I wanted him.But because I wanted to want him.He was kind. Gentle. Strong without being cruel. And he noticed people in ways most never did.Sometimes I mistake that for love.But I know better.Lucian belongs to someone. Body. Soul. And if anything happens to that someone...?Caisen will burn the world down.And I'd be first on the pyre.I'm not here to feel.I'm here to survive.I kept my head down, shuffled papers, responded
CONRAD WILLIAM'S POVBlack marble floors. Red interiors. The kind of décor that tries too hard to be dangerous—like a cheap mafia flick that never made it past the cutting room floor.The air reeks of whisky—rich, heavy, and sharp enough to burn your lungs. The kind of scent that pulls your spine into a shiver, makes your knees feel like water.My drug is ready. Already dissolved into my drink, just enough to blur the night around the edges. Make it survivable.So I don't feel the blows. Or worse.Even thinking about it makes my stomach coil, makes my skin itch to be turned into canvas. A violent sketch. Something raw and obscene only I could draw.I've been waiting. An hour now.He's late tonight. Which means he'll be hungrier when he arrives. They always are.I drop in another pill. Let it swirl, untouched. I'm not allowed to drink until he does.He's my regular. The worst one.Every scar on my back? A gift from him.A monster dressed like a man, wearing a sheep's smile.And I still