(It's Blackthorn Villa ) the resident of the one most deadliest man in arm's trade (Taehan Royce)

(It's 07:12 in the morning)
Taehan Royce didn't wake up gently.
He woke up like a man who had trained his body to obey before his mind even caught up.
The first thing he felt was the sharp ache in his neck-his head still tilted at an unnatural angle, resting against the leather chair in his private study.

The room was dark except for the laptop soft Glow spreadsheets and weapon contract drafts still open like silent witnesses to how late he had been working.
He had fallen asleep at his desk again.
A half-empty glass of black coffee sat untouched near his keyboard. Papers were scattered across the polished mahogany table-signed approvals, military procurement reports, classified research updates. The kind of documents governments killed for.
The kind of documents Taehan Royce owned.
He blinked slowly, eyes heavy, but his face stayed emotionless. No groan. No complaint. Just quiet irritation-at himself, not the workload.
Then his phone rang.
Not a normal ringtone.
The emergency line.
The screen flashed with the name: Blackforged Limited - Internal Command.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
He answered without hesitation.
"Speak."
A voice on the other end was tense-too tense. "Sir... it's urgent. We need you at headquarters. Now."
Taehan didn't ask why. He didn't need to. If his company's internal command line was calling at this hour, it meant something big had shifted-contracts, security, enemies, or blood.
His chair pushed back with a quiet scrape.
Within seconds, he was already moving.
He shrugged off the fatigue like it was an inconvenience beneath him, straightening his shirt sleeves as he walked. The lights in the hallway turned on automatically, revealing the brutal elegance of his mansion-steel accents, black marble floors, minimalist luxury that felt less like a home and more like a fortress built for a king who didn't trust peace.
Taehan entered his bedroom
With walk-in closet

and selected a suit without thinking.
Black. Perfectly tailored.
He fastened his cufflinks, adjusted his tie, and stared at his reflection only for a second. His face was sharp, carved with discipline-dark eyes that didn't look tired, only dangerous. The kind of man who didn't simply lead industries.
He controlled them.
Taehan Royce-Founder and CEO of Blackforged Limited, the most feared defense and weapons empire in the world-was not the type of man who arrived late.
He grabbed his watch, his phone, and his coat.
Then he walked out of his mansion like the world belonged to him.
Because in many ways... it did.
And whatever waited for him at headquarters-
It was about to learn that Taehan Royce didn't panic.
He responded.
With precision.
With power.
And without mercy.
Than Taehan got in his BMW

The drive to Blackforged Headquarters was quiet.
Too quiet.
Taehan sat in the backseat, coat perfectly fitted, tie straight, expression calm-but his mind wasn't. His fingers tapped once against his knee, a small habit he hated because it made him feel impatient.
The city lights passed like blurred streaks across the tinted glass. His phone kept lighting up with silent notifications-security updates, board alerts, encrypted messages.
He didn't open any of them.
Not yet.
He wanted to see the chaos with his own eyes.
When the car finally turned into the private entrance of Blackforged Limited, the massive building rose ahead like a black fortress-steel, glass, and power. Guards stood sharper than statues.

Security gates scanned the vehicle in seconds.
Then the gates opened.
The moment Taehan's car rolled into the underground executive parking area, something caught his eye immediately.

A black Porsche, polished like it had never touched dust.
Low. Aggressive. Expensive in a way that screamed arrogance.
Taehan's jaw tightened.
He knew that car the way you recognize a problem before it speaks.
His driver slowed.
Taehan stared at the Porsche for a long second, the irritation creeping into his chest like fire.
"Of course," he murmured.
Damian Victor Hayes.
The one man in the industry who could walk into Blackforged like he owned the place.
The one man who didn't fear Taehan Royce.
The car stopped. The door opened. Taehan stepped out, adjusting his cuff once, his face settling into that controlled calm that made people step aside without being told.
But inside?
His blood was already boiling.
As he walked toward the elevator entrance, he saw him.
Damian Victor Hayes stood near the executive elevators like he belonged there-hands in his pockets, suit sharp, hair perfectly styled in that effortless way that looked unfair on a man who already had everything else.
Tall.
Ridiculously handsome
Broad shoulders, clean jawline, eyes sharp enough to cut steel.
And worst of all-
He looked amused.
Like this was entertainment.
Like Taehan's company crisis was just a stage and Damian had arrived to steal the spotlight.
Damian turned slowly, his gaze landing on Taehan like he'd been waiting for him.
A slow smirk formed.
"Royce," Damian greeted, voice smooth. "You look like you slept in your office again."
Taehan didn't stop walking.
His eyes stayed cold. "Hayes."
Damian chuckled softly, stepping closer. He smelled like expensive cologne and arrogance.
"I heard Blackforged is having a little... situation," Damian said casually. "Thought I'd show up. Support the industry, you know?"
Taehan's stare sharpened.
"You're not here to support anything," Taehan said.
Damian lifted an eyebrow, fake innocent. "Then why am I here?"
Taehan's lips barely moved. "To flex."
Damian's grin widened like Taehan had handed him exactly what he wanted.
"You noticed," he said, almost proudly. "I just closed a new defense deal this morning. Orbital-level surveillance drones. Faster deployment. Higher altitude. Untouchable."
Taehan's chest tightened.
Sky Forge Aerospace.
Damian's empire.
The company that owned the skies the way Blackforged owned the ground.
Sky Forge didn't just build fighter jets and drones-they built the future. Advanced aircrafts, orbital defense technology, airspace control systems that made governments bow politely and sign contracts like obedient children.
Damian Victor Hayes wasn't just a CEO.
He was a man who controlled the sky and space like it was his personal kingdom.
And he knew it.
"I brought the prototypes," Damian continued, voice smooth as poison. "They're waiting upstairs. I figured the board would enjoy seeing what a real next-generation fleet looks like."
Taehan stopped walking.
Slowly turned.
The air around them felt colder.
"You came to my headquarters," Taehan said quietly, "during an emergency board meeting... to show off."
Damian leaned slightly closer, his smile almost insulting.
"I came," he said, "because your board invited me. They like my numbers. My technology. My vision."
Taehan's eyes narrowed.
"They invited you," Taehan replied, "because they're weak."
Damian laughed softly, not offended at all.
"Or maybe," Damian said, "they're just tired of watching you act like you're the only man in this industry."
Taehan took one step closer.
The distance between them was now nothing.
Two kings. Two empires.
The ground versus the sky.
Steel versus air.
War machines versus orbital dominance.
Taehan's voice dropped.
"You think you can walk into Blackforged and embarrass me?"
Damian's smile didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened.
"I think," Damian said, "you embarrass yourself by reacting every time I breathe."
Taehan's fists clenched slightly at his sides.
His control was perfect.
But barely.
Damian tilted his head, eyes flicking over Taehan like he was studying him.
"You should thank me, Royce," Damian murmured. "Without me, you'd have no competition. And without competition..."
His gaze locked onto Taehan's.
"...you'd get bored."
Taehan's jaw flexed.
"Get in the elevator," Taehan said coldly. "Before I forget this is a business meeting."
Damian stepped back with a grin.
"After you."
The elevator doors opened.
They entered together.
And the moment the doors closed, the air became suffocating-two men standing side by side, both too powerful to back down, both too proud to pretend they didn't hate each other.
Damian glanced at Taehan's reflection in the elevator mirror.
"So," he said lazily, "how bad is the crisis?"
Taehan didn't look at him.
"It's bad enough," Taehan replied, "that I don't have time for your ego."
Damian smiled like he'd won something.
"I'll make time for it," he said.
The elevator climbed.
And Taehan already knew-
This meeting wasn't going to be about contracts.
It was going to be a battlefield.
Then ----
Jenny Rodriguez
She stepped into Blackforged Limited on her first day as an intern, trying not to look nervous.
Then she saw him
Taehan Royce
Real. Cold. Powerful. The kind of man you didn't just admire-you obsessed over.
And beside him stood Damian Victor Hayes, Sky Forge's CEO. Tall, unfairly handsome, and carrying himself like the world was already his.
Jenny rushed to the coffee station, poured two black coffees, and walked over.

"Mr. Royce... good morning," she said, handing him one.
Taehan took it with a quick glance. "Thanks."
Her chest warmed instantly.
Then she turned to Damian with a polite smile.
"Mr. Hayes, I got you one too."
Damian didn't even look at her.
Not a glance. Not a nod. Nothing.
He simply took the cup from her hand like she was a tray on legs-like she didn't exist.
Jenny froze for a second, her smile
still stuck on her face.
The bitterness hit fast, sharp, humiliating.
But she swallowed it down.
She smiled wider.
And in her head, she thought-
Fine. Ignore me today.
You won't ignore me forever.
Then in the boardroom --

The board meeting felt less like business and more like war.
Hours dragged on, and the room stayed sharp with tension-Taehan and Damian cutting into each other with words disguised as strategy. Every proposal became an argument. Every number became an insult. It was endless, exhausting, and no one dared interrupt them.
By the time it finally ended, the air felt bruised.
Damian Victor Hayes left Blackforged without looking back.
---
Later,in evening 6 :34 pm
high above the city in the glass-and-steel headquarters of Sky Forge Aerospace,

Damian sat alone in his private cabin office. The lights were dim, the room silent except for the soft hum of screens and servers.

He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his cuff, and leaned back in his chair like a man who never truly relaxed.
On his desk lay a stack of old files-archived records from his school years. Old documents
Than Damian opened the files for work
He flipped through the folder slowly.
Old reports.
Old schedules.
Old photos.
Then his hand paused.
He found a photo frame tucked between papers, as if it had been hidden there on purpose.
He had hidden it back in school-away from his parents, away from everyone-because he didn't want anyone to know he kept it
And somehow, even after he became CEO, it had followed him again-quietly ending up inside his office cabin, tucked away like it belonged there.
Damian stared at it.
A single photograph.
A girl.
Sixteen years old.

She dyed her hair blonde-For the first time
bright and rebellious, like she'd done it just to make adults angry. Her eyes were sharp, full of confidence and trouble. She was smiling like the world was a game she already knew how to win.
Her blonde hair was soft-not bright or harsh, but a warm, golden shade that caught the light gently, like sunlight resting on silk. In a loose bun A few loose strands framed her face in a way that made her look effortlessly alive, not styled, not forced-just naturally beautiful. She wore a grey lenses
Jessie Chowdhury.
Back when she was the queen of Le Rosey-popular, fearless, a troublemaker who somehow still managed to be a topper and the class president, the girl teachers complained about but couldn't deny.
Damian remembered the whispers.
She's insane.
She's brilliant.
She'll ruin someone's life one day.
And she had.
Just not the way they meant.
Damian's fingers brushed the edge of the frame, his expression unreadable.
He remembered himself back then in Le Rosey too.
The quiet one.
The mysterious boy who never spoke, never smiled, never needed anyone.
Until one day...
Jessie had approached him.
She had leaned down to his desk like she belonged there, blonde hair glowing under the classroom lights, and smiled at him like he wasn't invisible.
Like he was someone worth noticing.
Damian He hadn't forgotten it.
Not once.
Damian stared at the photo for a long moment.
Then, slowly-
A real smile appeared on his face.
Not his usual arrogant smirk.
Not his cold corporate amusement.
A rare, warm smile that looked almost soft.
And then something even stranger happened.
(His cheeks turned faintly pink.
Damian Victor Hayes blinked, as if shocked by his own reaction.
He cleared his throat, annoyed with himself, and looked away-
But the warmth stayed.
And for the first time in years, the powerful man who ruled the skies sat quietly in his office...
(smiling)
Damian sat in silence for a long moment, still holding the photo frame.
Jessie's sixteen-year-old smile didn't fade, even as he looked at it longer than he should have.
Finally, he stood up.
Without overthinking it, he placed the frame right in front of his desk.
Not hidden. Not stored away.
Right there-where his eyes would land on it every single day.
Like it belonged there.
Like it always had.
He sat back down, adjusted his sleeve, and continued working as if it was the most normal decision in the world.
--
Back to the Blackforged company
Pov : Taehan Royce's cabin

Taehan returned to his office still irritated from the board meeting.
Damian Victor Hayes had pushed every button like it was entertainment.
Then his phone buzzed.
Han Jayhuk Royce.
Message: Grandfather ordered you to come to the family house tonight. No excuses.
Taehan stared at the message.
Damian was a headache.
His grandfather different kind of problem
TO BE CONTINUED