MAVERICK: THE EMPERORS OBSESSION

“I don’t like repeating myself, David,” Dante hissed. He adjusted the Rolex on his wrist, his tone almost casual—but the look in his eyes could have killed. “Where’s that fuckin backup data?” “I—I don’t know, Mr. Maverick! I swear, they took it from my desk!” A few meters down the corridor, a photographer swallowed hard. What she was witnessing would be a massive scandal in London. Dante Maverick, the billionaire hailed as the savior of the national economy was a monster behind the scenes. With trembling hands, Lexy lifted her well-worn Canon camera. Focus. And… click. The shutter sounded like cannon fire in the silence of the hallway. Dante froze. He didn’t turn sharply. Instead, his eyes scanned the area slowly—the deliberate movement of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run. “Who’s there?” His voice boomed, echoing against the low ceiling. Lexy didn’t answer. She spun around and bolted. Her old boots pounded against the concrete floor. “s**t, s**t, s**t,” she muttered under her breath. She was just a freelance photographer trying to make rent—not some undercover agent ready to die for a headline. She had just reached the emergency exit when a large shadow overtook her. Before she could even inhale, a steel-strong hand grabbed her shoulder and slammed her against the wall. Thud. Her vision blurred. The air was knocked from her lungs. Before she could protest, the camera strap around her neck was yanked so hard it briefly choked her. “Let go! That’s mine!” Lexy shrieked, clawing at the muscular arm restraining her. It was like trying to scratch concrete. Dante stood directly in front of her now. He was at least 6’3 tall, making her feel tiny beneath his shadow. The scent of expensive sandalwood cologne mixed faintly with tobacco wrapped around her senses—an unsettling contrast to the violence of the moment. Without a hint of remorse, Dante scrolled through her camera screen, disgust clear in his expression. He grabbed the ID card hanging from her shirt. “Lexy T. Freelance photographer. Specialist in stalking first-rate celebrities outside nightclubs,” he read flatly. “So now you’re trying to move up to the corporate league?” “I’m not some trash paparazzi! I saw what you did to that man! That was an assault!” Dante laughed. It wasn’t warm. It was short, dry, razor-sharp. He stepped closer to her, erasing the space between them until the tip of his polished leather shoe touched her worn boot. “Listen carefully, Miss Lexy. That old man just tried to sell my company’s trade secrets worth billions to foreign competitors. In my world, that’s called betrayal. And believe me, my punishment is far lighter than what the government would’ve done if they found out.” He lowered his voice, sending a chill down her spine. “But of course, your cheap little lens didn’t capture that part, did it? You just wanted one dramatic shot to drag my name through the media. You little bitch.” Lexy refused to back down. “Your reputation deserves to be destroyed if you treat people like trash!” she shot back, her legs weak but her eyes blazing. Dante smirked at her defiance. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, lingering in a way that felt almost physical before returning to her eyes. “Right now, my company is finalizing the biggest merger of the decade. If those damn photos get out, my stock value worth billions will crash. Thousands will lose their jobs. London’s economy will take a hit. You think your ego is worth with that?” “So what? Are you going to kill me?” Lexy challenged, even though her heart was pounding in her throat. Dante’s lips curved slightly. “Killing you would be legally inconvenient. I prefer something… more elegant.” With efficient precision, he removed the battery and memory card from her camera. Crack. He dropped the battery to the floor and crushed it beneath his shoe. “Hey! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?! I bought it with my own money! That’s my rent for a month, you bastard!” She tried to hit his chest, but he caught both her wrists easily with one hand. His grip locked her in place. “Rent? You’re worried about rent when I could erase you from existence in this world and no one would ask questions?” Dante smirked, dominance radiating off him. “I have a better solution. You’re coming with me, Lexy.” “Where? I’m not going anywhere with you, smug! Let go off me!” He leaned closer, leaving only inches between them. “You have two choices, Lexy.” “Listen carefully. Option one, I call the police and accuse you of industrial sabotage and attempted blackmail. I have lawyers who can make sure you rot in prison until you forget how to hold a camera.” She held her breath. He wasn’t bluffing. “And option two?” she asked, her voice shaking. He released her wrists but didn’t step back. “Option two, you come to my office, sign a contract, and become my fiancee for the next six months.” Lexy’s eyes widened. “WHAT?! ARE YOU INSANE? WHY WOULD I EVER BE YOUR FIANCEE?!” “Because the business world needs a reason for why I was in this filthy corridor with you tonight if anyone happened to see. I don’t want them thinking I was committing violence. I’d rather they believe I was chasing my runaway fiancee throwing a little tantrum.” He straightened his tie like he was discussing quarterly profits. “You manipulative bastard!” “It’s purely transactional, Lexy. You save my name, and I make sure you never have to chase first-rate celebrities to pay rent again.” “I can’t be bought, Dante.” “Everyone has a price, sweetheart. You just haven’t figured out yours yet.” He signaled to two large men who emerged from the shadows—his bodyguards. “Take her to the car, Marcus. Make sure no cameras catch her face until we reach Mayfair.” “I’m not going anywhere with you! Let me go! You bastard! Let me go!” She struggled, but the guards held her firmly—polite, yet unyielding. Dante walked ahead of them with long, arrogant strides. He didn’t look back, as if Lexy already belonged to him. “Welcome to the real world, Lexy,” he murmured as he slipped into his sleek black limousine. “I hope you like diamonds. Because starting tomorrow, your life is no longer your own.”