The Gilded Cage of the Ghost Billionaire
A dazzling yet dark cabaret in Paris. French jazz played in a gentle rhythm. Elite guests laughed and whispered, wine glasses in hand.
Serafina stood before a mirror, watching her reflection. She wore a black silk gown that accentuated her slim figure, making her look even more captivating. But her eyes were like burning embers, hiding a terrifying fire of revenge. Tonight, she was to make the first move in the greatest game of her life.
"Are you ready, Serafina?" her friend Lilette whispered.
Serafina took a shallow breath. "I am ready to do anything for my family, Lilette. Damian De Villiers... I will watch his downfall with my own eyes."
Lilette looked on with frightened eyes. "But he isn't just a billionaire, Serafina. People say he has a pact with dark forces. He is a ghost, a monster draped in human skin."
Serafina gave a hard smile. "Whatever he is, a deal will be struck with him today. I will enter his dark empire, and then..." Her eyes glinted.
At that exact moment, Damian De Villiers entered the cabaret.
His black suit and white shirt, paired with a maroon tie, made him strikingly handsome. His long black hair touched his shoulders, and he wore mysterious glasses. But in his gaze was a coldness that could turn any ordinary person to stone. He held a wine glass, but he himself did not drink a single drop.
As soon as he stepped into the cabaret, the temperature of the environment seemed to drop several degrees. Everyone knew that where Damian went, danger followed. Beside him were always his massive bodyguards, who looked human but had a strange, feral glint in their eyes.
Damian walked toward the bar as if he owned the entire place. A crooked smile played at the corner of his lips, reinforcing his dark anti-hero image.
"My prey, you have finally arrived," he thought. "This city will soon be mine, and so will your soul."
Serafina slowly approached Damian. Every step was filled with intense tension and unknown danger.
"Damian De Villiers?" Serafina said in a calm yet firm voice.
Damian looked up. There was a moment of fascination in his eyes, but it instantly turned cold. "Yes, I am. And who are you, beauty?"
"My name is Serafina Blanc. And I have a proposal for you."
The crooked smile returned to Damian's lips. He touched the rim of the wine glass to his lips but did not drink. "A proposal? What kind of proposal could a beautiful girl like you have that would interest a billionaire like me?"
"I have information that will make you the sole ruler of Paris's underworld," Serafina said, her eyes sparkling with confidence. "But in exchange, I want something."
Damian observed her every movement. This girl had fire in her eyes—the fire of revenge. He liked it. He extended his hand.
"Then let us have a deal, Miss Blanc. A deal that might change both our fates. Or, bring about our mutual destruction."
Serafina took Damian's hand. His touch was cold—as cold as ice. The touch reminded her that standing before her was a ghost, a monster. But she was not one to back down. She would have her revenge.
At that moment, the tattoos on Damian's hand began to glow faintly. The lights in the cabaret dimmed, and a vague shadow in a distant corner seemed to disappear. Serafina realized she had bound herself not just to a billionaire, but to an ancient power in a deadly contract.
Echoes of the Accursed Night
As Serafina left the cabaret, she felt a pair of invisible eyes watching her back. Damian stood like a stone statue, the untouched wine glass still in hand. His smile was wider now.
Outside, the cold Paris night air hit her face. She took a deep breath. Where Damian had touched her, her skin still felt frozen. She thought, "Does this man even breathe?"
As she walked through a deserted alley toward her flat, she suddenly felt someone walking behind her. But every time she looked back, she saw nothing but mist. Suddenly, a heavy masculine voice whispered very close to her ear:
"You made the deal, Serafina, but do you have the power to pay the price?"
She spun around. No one was there. But looking at the ground, her heart sank. In the lamplight, her own shadow was swaying strangely, and the shadow's hand was being held firmly by someone—even though no human was standing there!
The Midnight Visitation
It was exactly midnight. Paris was silent. Serafina was deep in sleep in her small flat. Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped to freezing. The darkness in the corner of the wardrobe seemed to come alive. A dense black shadow detached itself and stood beside the bed.
It was Damian. But not in his ordinary form. His body was light like mist, his eyes glowing in the dark like a predator's.
Serafina was dreaming of standing in the middle of ruins. Suddenly, someone hugged her from behind. The touch was freezing cold. She heard Damian's deep voice: "Did you think locking the door could keep me out? You invited me, Serafina... the moment you took my hand."
The red rose on her bedside began to bloom on its own. Blood began to drip from every petal, turning into black smoke before hitting the floor. Damian leaned down to her ear. He had no breath, only a supernatural vibration.
"There is no sleep in my empire. Wake up, Serafina... our wedding hour is passing."
Damian took out an old gold ring with a blood-red diamond. Just then, a small cross given by her father fell from the drawer with a thud.
The Terrifying Reality
Serafina woke up to find the room glowing with an eerie blue light. She felt as if all her strength had been drained. She realized someone was standing behind her. Her door was locked from the inside, yet Damian was there!
Damian reached for her back without a word. His fingers were colder than ice. Serafina froze in terror as she felt him slowly undoing the fastening of her nightgown.
"You... how did you get in here? Get out!" she tried to scream, but her voice was failing.
As the garment slipped from her shoulders, she looked into the mirror. She saw Damian holding her from behind, but Damian had no reflection in the mirror. Only Serafina could be seen.
"Why are you afraid, Serafina?" Damian whispered. "You wanted to be close to me, to be part of my mafia empire. Did you forget the first condition of the contract? Your body and soul—I have a right to both now."
He touched his lips to her neck, but it felt like a poisonous sting. "Once you step into the world of the mafia, there is no turning back. And when you deal with the dead, there is no question of it."
The Dark Union
It was 2:00 AM. A hellish burning was taking place in Serafina's room. Damian showed no mercy. Against his supernatural strength, Serafina was a helpless doll.
He leaned over her with his ice-cold body. This was not ordinary romance; it was a display of power. Serafina felt her body go numb. In that blue-lit room, they were joined in a cursed union. Her soul screamed that she was losing to her enemy, but her body succumbed to his dark magic.
When the air finally stilled, Damian was gone. He had vanished like the wind. But he left behind a ghostly scent and blue bruises on her skin.
Serafina lay in a corner, shattered. Her phone buzzed. It was her best friend.
"Serafina! Are you okay?"
Serafina sobbed, "He came... Damian was here. He... he forced himself on me. I couldn't save myself."
Silence. Then a terrified voice: "What are you saying? The news this morning was about Damian De Villiers' death anniversary. He died seven years ago! How could he...?"
Serafina looked at the marks on her body. She had been the prey of a living corpse's lust.
The Sovereignty of the Ghost Billionaire
Days later, in a dark yet royal VIP room of a mysterious palace, Damian sat on a velvet sofa, his white shirt unbuttoned. Serafina sat on his lap. They were intimate again, but her eyes held only exhaustion and terror.
"Damian... I can't do this anymore. Have mercy. This darkness, this hunger... I can't bear it. Set me free."
Damian laughed—a hollow, ghostly sound. He tilted her chin up. "Freedom? I died and found no freedom. You are my ownership now. The more you cry, the more this dead heart feels a pulse."
In the dim light, Damian's form began to shift. As a supernatural entity, his presence was overwhelming and terrifyingly massive.
"No... Damian, this can't be. It's too much! I... I can't take this. I will die!" Serafina cried out.
Damian pinned her hands down. "Don't be afraid. I told you, I am not of this world. My power, my wealth, and this body—all are beyond your imagination. You will have to take it. Because you are the property of a billionaire ghost now."
He leaned in again. Serafina felt her body splitting under the pressure of his ancient power. But seeing her turn pale with pain, Damian softened his cruelty into a dark, rhythmic obsession. He moved with a calculated, haunting grace, turning her agony into a numbing, dark trance.
Serafina stopped screaming. She simply swayed with the rhythm of his supernatural power as the candles flickered out.As Damian's slow, calculated caresses and the overwhelming presence of his body continued, Serafina's terror began to undergo a strange transformation. It started to turn into an inexplicable, dark pleasure. As the sharp edge of the pain began to recede, she finally took a proper look at the man before her.
Serafina was stunned to realize that Damian was not just terrifying; he was incredibly handsome. His perfectly sculpted chest muscles, broad shoulders, and a body as smooth yet hard as marble were enough to mesmerize anyone. His six-pack abs and powerful arms looked like the flawless creation of a master sculptor.
Her eyes wandered over his perfect physique, taking in every detail. Damian noticed. He realized that Serafina was falling under the spell of his supernatural beauty. A mischievous yet dark smirk played across his lips.
At that exact moment, Damian looked directly into her eyes and gave her a subtle, knowing wink.
That single gesture sent a bolt of electricity through Serafina's entire body. She felt a wave of shyness, but his raw masculine charisma was driving her mad. Damian leaned in even closer, whispering, "What are you looking at, Serafina? My body... or my power?"
Serafina could no longer restrain herself. She wrapped her arms around his hard chest. Her fear was rapidly evolving into an intense attraction. She began to realize that escaping this Mafia Ghost Billionaire was no longer the goal; perhaps her destiny was to drown in this enchanting trap.
The Wild Awakening
Damian's mesmerizing form and that suggestive wink turned her fear into a sudden surge of excitement. The temperature in the room seemed to rise even higher. Damian leaned down further and pressed his lips against her neck. His kisses were cold at first, but they quickly transformed into a searing heat.
As he established his dominance over the soft skin of her throat, Serafina lost all control. The mercury of her desire hit its peak. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, and her chest heaved.
In that moment of ultimate tension, Serafina snapped. She wrapped her arms around Damian's broad back and, with a primal instinct, dug her nails deep into his shoulders and back, raking them downward in a fierce scratch.
As her nails tore into the tough, muscular skin of his back, Damian paused for a heartbeat. But he felt no pain—instead, seeing Serafina's wild, animalistic side only heightened his diabolical pleasure. He let out a deep, guttural growl that echoed off the walls of the VIP suite.
Damian bit lightly near her ear and whispered, "This... this is what I wanted. To wake the tigress inside you. Tonight, in this battle of ours, there will only be victory and surrender, Serafina."
Serafina closed her eyes in a trance of painful bliss, clutching his back even tighter. From the marks of her scratches, no blood flowed; instead, a supernatural, dark misty aura began to emanate from his skin. They were both now intoxicated by a primitive and otherworldly lust.
The Breaking Point
When the peak of that intense moment arrived, Serafina's strength finally gave out. Her human body could no longer keep up with Damian's supernatural stamina and the relentless force of their union. Panting heavily, she tried to push against his chest.
Her voice was choked, and tears once again shimmered in the corners of her eyes. Shaking her head, she cried out, "Damian... enough! I can't... I really can't anymore. My body is breaking, please have mercy!"
Serafina withdrew her nails from his back. Her arms went limp, falling to her sides. She realized that it was impossible for a woman of flesh and blood to match the physical power of an immortal ghost.
Damian stopped, hovering over her. His eyes were still clouded with that crimson intoxication. He saw that she had turned pale, her entire frame trembling. His cruel, villainous expression shifted slightly; perhaps he realized that for tonight, this was enough.
He placed a cold hand gently on her sweat-slicked forehead. This time, there was a hint of demonic consolation in his touch. He said in a low voice:
"Very well, Serafina. I grant you release for tonight. But remember, your exhaustion is my victory. Every time you surrender, you sink deeper into me."
Damian stepped off the bed. In the shadows, his handsome, naked form looked like a haunting mirage. He picked up a silk sheet and draped it gently over Serafina's devastated body.
Serafina pulled the sheet tightly around her and turned away, curling into a ball. She didn't have the strength to move a single inch. She only heard the sound of Damian's heavy boots slowly fading as he moved away.
The Request for Presence
As Damian walked toward the door, Serafina suddenly felt that being alone in this massive, dark room was even more terrifying than his presence. Despite the pain he caused, he was currently her only anchor.
Clutching the sheet to her chest, she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Damian's shirt. She sobbed, her voice sounding incredibly vulnerable:
"Damian... don't go! I'm so scared. This room, this darkness... I can't be alone. Please, stay with me tonight."
Damian froze. Never had anyone made such a request to a cruel Mafia Ghost like him. Everyone usually tried to flee from him, yet this girl was asking him to stay. Damian turned back and looked at her tear-filled eyes. Perhaps a shadow of an old memory flickered in his stony heart.
Without a word, he returned to the bed. This time, there was no brutality. He slowly pulled Serafina into the embrace of his powerful arms. His body was still ice-cold, but tonight, Serafina found a strange sense of security within that coldness. She hid her face against his broad chest.
Damian began to run his fingers through her hair, saying in a calm, steady voice:
"Fear not, Serafina. I am here tonight. But remember, being by my side is like being next to a fire. Can you endure that heat forever?"
Serafina said nothing; she only held him tighter. Outside, the Parisian winds howled, but inside that locked room, a billionaire ghost and a helpless girl felt the silence of each other's bodies.
The Mysterious Morning
As the pale light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Serafina's sleep grew light. Her body felt heavy from the previous night's ordeal. In her half-conscious state, she felt a pair of strong, heavy arms still wrapped around her waist.
Serafina opened her eyes slowly. She was still held fast in Damian's powerful embrace. He hadn't left all night. He lay exactly as he had when he first pulled her close.
She looked at Damian's face. In the daylight, he looked even more mysterious and handsome. His eyes were closed, but his face didn't have the peaceful look of a normal sleeper; it carried a cold, solemn gravity. Serafina noticed that his chest wasn't rising or falling—he wasn't breathing.
She shivered again. The reminder that the man she was leaning against was a dead man—a Ghost Billionaire—hit her once more.
When she tried to carefully slide his hand away to get up, Damian's grip tightened around her waist. Without opening his eyes, he spoke in a very low, deep voice:
"Don't try to leave so soon, Serafina. I told you before, there is no escape from me."
Serafina froze. Damian slowly opened his eyes. Those dark pupils locked onto hers. Serafina saw that the previous night's savagery was gone, replaced by a deep, possessive gaze.
Damian brushed the messy hair away from her cheek and said, "Last night you asked me to stay. I kept my word. But from now on, every one of your mornings will begin in these arms. This is your new life."
Serafina realized then that she wasn't just his bedmate; she was a prisoner, like a queen of a dark empire. The scratch marks on her body from the night before still stung, a constant reminder that she was now caught in a monster's web.