Daniel sat on the couch in the hotel's living room.
His private suite was more than just a room—it was a fortress, a fully equipped space with everything he needed. The walls were soundproofed. The furniture was dark and expensive. The atmosphere was cold, just like him.
Liam stood beside him, holding three baseballs in his hands. His face was impassive, but his eyes were watchful, missing nothing.
A young guy—perhaps in his twenties—was kneeling on the floor in front of Daniel. His eyes were covered with a black cloth. Two burly men stood behind him, their arms crossed, their expressions unyielding.
One of them reached down and removed the cloth from the guy's face.
As soon as the cloth was removed, the young guy blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. Then he looked up.
His eyes went wide. His face went pale. His breath caught in his throat. His entire body began to tremble.
He was terrified by the man sitting in front of him. Daniel Viggo. The name alone was enough to make men tremble. But seeing him in person—cold, untouchable, his eyes like frozen steel—was something else entirely.
How did I get caught?
He had taken the job because he thought he could escape. He had been careful. He had worn a mask. He had left the bar immediately after the job was done. He had done everything right.
But somehow, he had ended up here. Kneeling in front of the Devil himself.
Seeing that the guy wasn't talking, Liam raised his arm and threw the first baseball.
It hit the guy's nose with a sickening crack.
Blood gushed out instantly. The guy covered his nose as he fell to the ground, screaming in pain. His voice echoed off the soundproofed walls, trapped in the room with nowhere to go.
One of the burly men grabbed him by the collar and forced him back to his knees.
"Speak," Liam said. His voice was cold. Unforgiving.
The guy nodded and shook his head at the same time, his hands still cupped over his bleeding nose.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice muffled and desperate. "I'm just a poor worker. I didn't do anything—"
He hadn't finished talking before the second baseball struck his right eye.
The guy screamed like a slaughtered pig. The sound was raw. Animal. He fell forward, clutching his face, writhing on the ground in agony.
Daniel watched the scene unfold with cold detachment. His expression remained unchanged. His gaze did not waver. He felt nothing—no pity, no remorse, no satisfaction. Only a cold, familiar emptiness.
He subconsciously looked toward the door. This room was built differently, so he was not worried about her hearing the noise. The walls were soundproofed. She could not hear anything.
He wondered if she was still sleeping.
He turned back to the guy, who had been dragged back to his kneeling position. His eyes were cold as frost.
"Who sent you?" Daniel asked.
His voice was low. Unhurried. Dangerous, and utterly without mercy. It cut through the room like a blade.
The guy trembled violently, his fear palpable. Daniel's intimidating aura, the killing intent emanating from him like heat from a fire, was overwhelming.
"It was a man," the guy confessed, his voice shaking. "He didn't look like he was from around here. A lady was with him as well. I only wanted to make money from them since they looked wealthy." He paused, swallowing hard. "I didn't bother with their faces because they already had masks on."
The guy immediately crawled toward Daniel's feet, begging for forgiveness.
"Please," he sobbed. "Please forgive me. I didn't know who I was working against. I didn't know—"
Seeing this, the burly men quickly dragged him away from Daniel's feet. Their president was fastidious about such things. He would have been irritated by the guy's touch already.
They forced him back to where he was kneeling. The guy had not even had time to think before the last baseball landed on his remaining open eye.
The guy screamed louder than before. His entire face was now covered in blood, streaming from both eyes like tears of crimson. He looked like a vengeful ghost from horror movies.
Daniel watched. His face remained unchanged.
Liam gave a sharp nod.
"Take him away," he said.
The burly men grabbed the guy and dragged him out of the room. The door closed behind them, muffling the last of his screams.
The room fell silent.
Liam turned to Daniel.
"Sir, we've given the deal to Aurum like you asked. But only 80% so as to avoid suspicion," Liam reported.
Daniel did not respond immediately. He sat still, his gaze fixed on the door that led to the hallway.
She got what she wanted, he thought.
"And the black card?" Daniel asked.
Liam shook his head. "She hasn't come out of her room yet. That's why it hasn't been given to her. But I've prepared everything. Once she's out, it will be handed to her."
Daniel said nothing. Instead, his gaze drifted toward the door again, as if he could see through the walls, as if he could see her on the other side.
Dismissing Liam with a wave of his hand, Daniel rose from the couch and walked into his room. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The memories from last night—which had been threatening to surface all day—finally flooded his mind like water.
He forced the thoughts back, wondering why he had gone to her instead of finding someone else.
Why had he gone to her instead of finding someone else?
It must have been because he hated her to the core. And the only thing he wanted was to torment her in every way possible.
He could hear her screams. The way she had yelped when he penetrated her.
It was her first time.
He had actually thought Carter had taken her first time. But he was wrong. She had been untouched.
But who cares? he told himself. This is even better. Taking her innocence would most definitely be devastating for her. I only want to see her suffer. To see her break. To push her to the edge until she reveals her true self.
Thinking about this brought back old memories. He remembered how she had jumped in front of his car pretending to be hit just to get his attention. That was who she was. A manipulator. A liar. Just like the woman who had killed his mother.
She was no different. They were all the same.
He closed his eyes, trying to push the memories away. But they kept coming. Her face. Her voice. The way she had looked at him with fear in her eyes.
He did not care. He did not feel guilty. She deserved everything she got. She was an ingrate. A fraud. A pretender.
He repeated the words like a mantra, trying to make himself believe them.
Just then, the door to his room was pushed open.
Daniel raised his head slightly, his eyes narrowing.
Who dared to come in without knocking?