CHAPTER 12 : PREDATOR

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I should have known better

The moment I saw Bianca De Luca at the party, something shifted in me. I'd been playing a dangerous game for years, balancing on the edge between revenge and survival. My focus had been unwavering-until her.

I couldn't get her out of my mind. It wasn't just her beauty, though she was breathtaking. It was more than that. There was a fire in her, a sharpness in her eyes that I hadn't expected. She wasn't a pawn in this world like most of the others. She had a purpose, a strength that was both unsettling and captivating.

But I reminded myself she was Alessandro's daughter. His flesh and blood. The man who had ripped my family apart, who'd turned me into the cold, ruthless bastard I am today. I should have despised her, used her to get what I wanted, and discarded her when the time came.

And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't shake the obsession that gnawed at me day and night. It was maddening. The more I tried to focus on my plans, the more her face appeared in my mind.

It was late in the evening when my phone buzzed with a message. The kind of message I couldn't ignore.

Bianca De Luca wanted to meet.

My grip on the phone tightened. She was coming to me? What the hell was this about? There were no coincidences in our world, no accidental meetings. Every move was calculated. This wasn't just some random encounter. This was a move. And I had to be ready for whatever game her father was playing.

But something about it intrigued me. What did she want? What could Alessandro possibly gain by sending his daughter to meet me?

I sent a message back, setting up the time and place. A quiet, neutral location, far from any of my usual haunts. I wasn't about to let her get the upper hand on me. Not when I was already too close to losing control.

The next day, I arrived at the bar early. It was one of those high-end places hidden behind an unmarked door, where people with enough money could drink in private without worrying about who might be watching. Perfect for this kind of meeting.

I took a seat in the corner, my back to the wall, and ordered a whiskey. The place was dimly lit, the shadows thick, the kind of atmosphere where you could disappear if you wanted to. I liked it that way. It gave me the upper hand, allowed me to watch without being watched.

I sipped my drink slowly, waiting. My mind was racing, trying to predict every possible outcome of this meeting. What was her angle? Was she here to manipulate me? To get information? Or was there something more? Something personal?

When the door opened, my gaze snapped toward it. And there she was.

Bianca.

She walked in like she owned the place, her head held high, her steps deliberate and confident. She was dressed simply, but every detail was calculated-nothing out of place. Even the way she scanned the room was measured, her eyes sharp and alert. She was hunting.

And damn if it didn't make her even more irresistible.

I watched her for a moment, admiring the way she moved, the control she had over herself. She was young, too young for this world, but there was a darkness in her that went beyond her years. That made her dangerous.

When her eyes found mine, I felt that familiar pull again. The one that made me want to get closer to her, to unravel whatever mystery lay beneath that cool, composed exterior.

She approached the table without hesitation, sliding into the seat across from me. I leaned back in my chair, studying her, letting the silence stretch between us. She didn't flinch, didn't look away. If anything, she seemed more determined.

But she had no idea.

No idea that I was already past the point of control. That I had been thinking about her far too much, and that this meeting would do nothing to quiet the fire that had been burning inside me since I saw her.

"You came," I said, my voice low, testing the waters. I was curious to see how she'd respond, how much of her guard she'd let down.

Her lips curved slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "You made it easy."

I chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "That's what you think?"

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "I think you're curious about why I'm here. And I think you already know it's not by accident."

She was direct. I liked that. There was no point in pretending. "Let's skip the games, then. Why did Alessandro send you?"

Her expression remained neutral, but I saw a flicker of something in her eyes. "This isn't about my father."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it about? You? Or do you expect me to believe you're acting on your own?"

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her eyes locked onto mine. "I'm not here for small talk, Eryx. I know who you are. I know what you've done, and I know what you want."

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. She knew. She knew everything. But the way she said it, the way she looked at me, it wasn't with fear. There was something else. Something more dangerous.

"I doubt you know what I want," I said, my voice dropping lower. I wasn't talking about business anymore, and I had a feeling she knew that.

Her gaze didn't waver, but her jaw tightened slightly. "Don't assume you know me just because we crossed paths once."

I smirked, leaning in, matching her intensity. "Oh, I don't assume anything, Bianca. But I know you're here for a reason. And I know it has something to do with your father. So, what's the play? What does he want?"

She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if calculating her next move. "It's simple. There's something we need from you. A deal."

"A deal." I repeated the words slowly, letting them sink in. I had expected as much, but hearing it confirmed still sent a rush of adrenaline through me. Alessandro wasn't a man who made deals unless he had no other choice. Something was shifting, and I needed to figure out what it was.

"Why send you?" I asked, studying her. "What makes you think I'll listen to you when I wouldn't listen to him?"

She leaned back in her chair, her expression cool. "Because you want to."

There was a pause, a long, charged silence where the only sound was the soft clink of my glass as I set it down on the table.

She was right. I did want to. But not for the reasons she thought.

She had no idea about the thoughts running through my head, how much I had already lost control. She thought this was business, that I was playing the same game her father always played. But I wasn't. Not anymore.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. Every second spent in her presence only deepened the pull. She was 24, too young to be playing games in this world, but here she was-confident, controlled, and deadly in her own way. The age difference between us should have been enough to push me away, to make me focus on the task at hand.

But it didn't.

"I'll listen," I finally said, my voice low, almost a whisper. "But not because of him. Because of you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the confusion flicker there for just a moment before she masked it again. She had no idea what I meant, no idea that every move she made only fueled the obsession growing inside me.

She thought it was negotiation.

But for me, it was something else.
Something more dangerous.

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