The city of Avalen never slept. Its skyline pierced the clouds like silver daggers, and at the heart of it stood Blackwood Tower — a 108-floor monument of wealth and ambition, owned by none other than Damian Blackwood.
To the world, Damian was untouchable. The youngest billionaire CEO, a man with an ice-cold glare that could silence boardrooms, build empires, or destroy careers with a single word. But behind that cold exterior, he carried a secret — a curse etched in ancient gold.
Fifteen years ago, a desperate, grieving teenage Damian had made a deal with a mysterious woman in the shadows of a shattered chapel.
> "You want power?" the woman had asked. "You shall have it. But beware… the moment your heart chooses love, everything you've built will crumble."
He thought it was nonsense — until every risk he took turned to gold, every enemy fell like dominoes, and every competitor mysteriously vanished.
Now, at twenty-eight, Damian lived in a penthouse of silence and steel, untouched by love, ruled by numbers — and haunted by the clock ticking toward his doom.
---
Across the city, Ariella Moore rushed through the morning crowd, her oversized hoodie soaked in rain, her sneakers torn, and her backpack filled with delivery parcels. The cold wind stung her cheeks, but she didn't stop. She couldn't afford to be late — not when her younger brother's medicine was due and her rent hung by a thread.
Avalen was ruthless to the poor. Dreams didn't live long here unless you were born with a silver spoon or a golden surname.
As she sprinted into the towering lobby of Blackwood Enterprises, her phone buzzed.
> "Apartment 108-F. Deliver the file, no delay. The CEO himself is expecting it."
Ariella's eyes widened. The CEO? No one ever saw Damian Blackwood in person — and those who did never dared to speak unless spoken to.
She entered the elevator with a trembling breath. Her hands clutched the small, sealed package like it was sacred. One mistake, and she'd be out of a job again.
---
Damian stood alone in his office, staring out at the stormy sky. His fingers toyed with a golden ring — the one the strange woman had given him the night of the deal. His assistant had warned him: the courier was late.
He turned just as the elevator chimed.
A girl rushed in, drenched, panting, wide-eyed.
And then… she slipped.
The package flew. Ariella crashed into Damian.
Coffee spilled.
Papers scattered.
Time froze.
Their eyes locked — and for a fleeting moment, Damian felt something stir in his chest. Something dangerous. Something… human.
His heart skipped.
And the ancient ring on his finger burned red-hot.