Chapter One: Meeting him.
Everyone in the city knew the name,
His name carried weight, money, blood, power. Billionaire by thirty, heir to an empire that wore the clean mask of global finance and the darker underbelly of organized crime. A man who didn't raise his voice because he never needed to.
Lucian Castillo simply looked at you, and people folded.
Bram Micheals had never planned on being anywhere near a man like that.
He always wish to live a simple and comfortable life.
Yet here he was, standing in the private elevator of the Castillo Tower, palms damp, heart thudding so loudly he was sure the security cameras could hear it.
Relax, he told himself. It's just a job interview.
But that was a lie, and he knew it.
There was nothing just about being summoned—summoned, not invited—to the top floor of the most dangerous man in the city.
At twenty-three, I was painfully ordinary. Average height, average build. Dark ginger hair that refused to stay neat, brown eyes that gave me away far too easily. I didn't have the sharp edges or polished confidence of the men who usually thrived in the Castillo orbit.
What I did have was a brain that refused to quit.
Top of my class in data analysis. Quietly brilliant. The kind of smart that didn't need attention. "Yes that's me".
The elevator slowed.
I swallowed.
A cold shiver pass through me.
The doors slid open to a space that felt less like an office and more like a throne room for modern kings. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the city spread beneath them, glittering and small. Black marble floors. Steel and glass. Minimalist, cold, controlled.
Just like the man standing by the window.
Lucian Castillo turned slowly, as if he'd sensed Bram's presence before the doors even opened.
Tall. Broad-shouldered in a tailored black suit that looked custom-built for violence and wealth alike. His dark hair was slicked back, sharp cheekbones shadowed by the setting sun. His eyes, steel-gray, unreadable, locked onto Bram with surgical precision.
Silence stretched.
Then Lucian smiled.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't cruel.
It was interested.
"You're early," Lucian said, voice low, smooth, carrying authority without effort.
Bram cleared his throat. "I didn't want to be late, sir."
"Good." Lucian's gaze flicked over him—measuring, assessing. "People who are late tend to disappoint me."I nodded quickly. Don't ask what happens to people who disappoint him.
Lucian gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
Bram obeyed.
The desk between them felt like a border between worlds. Lucian leaned back in his chair, folding his hands, studying Bram as if he were a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit the picture, but might if forced into place.
"You know who I am," Lucian said.
"Yes."
"And you know why you're here."
"Yes… mostly."
A soft chuckle. Dangerous. "Honest. I like that."
Lucian tapped a tablet on his desk. "Your professors say you're naïve."
I stiffened. "They also say I'm competent."
"They say you don't lie well."
"I don't see the point."
Lucian's smile deepened, slower now. "In my world, lying is a survival skill."
Bram met his gaze despite the warning bells in his head. "In my world, patterns don't care if you lie to them. Data always tells the truth eventually."
Something shifted.
Lucian leaned forward.
"You're not afraid of me," Luca observed.
Bram hesitated. "I am. I just… don't think fear should make decisions for me."
Then Luca laughed, once, quietly. "That's either very brave or very stupid."
"Usually both," I admitted.
Lucian stood, circling the desk slowly. Each step felt deliberate, predatory. He stopped behind Bram's chair, close enough that Bram could feel his presence like heat against his spine.
"You know what I do," Lucian murmured.
"I know what the news says."
"And you still came."
Bram's fingers curled into his palms. "You asked."
Lucian leaned down, voice brushing Bram's ear. "I don't ask without reason."
A shiver betrayed him.
Lucian noticed.
Of course he did.
The man straightened, returning to his side of the desk as if nothing intimate had occurred. "I need someone I can trust with information that could destroy empires."
Bram blinked. "You barely know me."
"I know enough." Lucian's eyes darkened. "You're clean. No addictions. No debts. No ambition to be powerful."
"Is that a flaw?"
"For most men. For you?" Lucian shrugged. "It makes you… moldable."
Bram's stomach tightened. "I'm not property."
Lucian smiled slowly. "Not yet."
The words should have sent Bram running.
Instead, something twisted low in his chest, fear tangled with curiosity, danger braided with desire.
Lucian slid a contract across the desk. "Six months. Private analyst. On-site. You'll be paid more than you've ever imagined."
"And the catch?"
"You'll belong to my world." Lucian's gaze pinned him. "And once you see it, there's no pretending it doesn't exist."
Bram stared at the contract.
At the man.
At the city below that looked so small from this height.
"How do I know you won't ruin my life?" he asked quietly.
Lucian leaned back, considering him. "You don't."
Then, softer: "But I don't ruin what I want to keep."
Their eyes locked.
Something passed between them, unspoken, electric, dangerous.
Bram picked up the pen.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew this was the moment his life split into before and after Lucian Castillo.