Possessively Mine

King behind the the Glass

The sleek black Bentley cut through the city streets like a blade, its tinted windows shielding its occupants from the waking world outside. The early morning sun painted the skyline in hues of gold and amber, but inside the car, the atmosphere was anything but warm.

Tavien Zeo Rayn sat in the backseat, his imposing frame a fortress of controlled power, his sharp, calculating eyes fixed on the road ahead—though his mind was already ten steps beyond it.

He never drove himself. Men like Tavien didn’t waste time behind the wheel. Every second of his day was meticulously orchestrated, every move deliberate, every decision carrying the weight of empires—both legitimate and otherwise.

In the front seat, Aiden, his most trusted confidant and personal assistant, remained silent, his posture rigid with readiness. He knew better than to speak unless necessary. Tavien’s silence was a language of its own—one that Aiden had spent years learning to interpret.

But this morning, the quiet was thick with unspoken tension.

“Dario is stalling,” Aiden finally said, his voice low but firm. “The deal was supposed to be finalized yesterday. He’s testing your patience.”

Tavien didn’t react immediately. His fingers tapped once—just once—against the leather seat beside him. Aiden knew that sign. It meant Tavien’s patience had already run out.

“Then he’s made his last mistake,” Tavien replied, his voice a smooth, icy baritone that carried the quiet menace of a blade being unsheathed. “If he thinks he can play games with me, he’s forgotten who he’s dealing with.”

Aiden didn’t need further clarification. In their world, hesitation was weakness, and weakness was fatal. Dario had just signed his own death warrant.

“I’ll handle it,” Aiden said simply.

Tavien gave a single nod. That was all the confirmation required.

Aiden exhaled slowly before continuing. “The hospital board is pressing for a decision on the new director. They’re growing restless.”

A muscle twitched in Tavien’s jaw. The hospital—Montelure Heart & Surgical Center (MHSC)—was one of his most prestigious legitimate enterprises, a gleaming symbol of his public influence. But behind its sterile white walls, it served another purpose: a carefully constructed front for his darker operations. The wrong director could disrupt everything.

“They’ll wait,” Tavien said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I decide who takes that position, not them. If they have a problem with that, remind them who owns the building—and who signs their paychecks.”

Aiden nodded. He’d seen this side of Tavien before—the ruthless businessman who crushed opposition without blinking.

The Bentley pulled up to the towering monolith of Rayn Enterprises, its sleek black surface reflecting the morning light like a fortress carved from obsidian and ice. The building loomed above the city like a silent sentinel — cold, powerful, and untouchable — much like the man inside the car.

As the vehicle eased to a stop at the private entrance, Tavien remained still in the backseat, his long frame relaxed but exuding a quiet dominance. His gaze was fixed on the building ahead, but his mind was already miles away — dissecting Dario’s inevitable downfall, considering the best way to silence the hospital board’s growing boldness, and organizing the chaos of his empire with ruthless precision.

Seconds passed in silence.

Then, slowly, Tavien turned his head, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses as he cast a look toward Aiden in the front seat. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The single raised eyebrow was enough — a subtle, unspoken demand.

It was the look of a man who expected answers without ever having to ask the question. Aiden felt it immediately. He knew what Tavien was waiting for.

Without turning around, Aiden responded with the calm certainty of someone who had served at the right hand of power for far too long to be unsettled.

“Already handled,” he said, his tone crisp. “Her file’s waiting on your desk.”

Tavien said nothing, but Aiden continued — the details mattered.

“Name’s Lilia Snow,” Aiden added. “Medical student, waiting for montelure’s internship.

At the name, a flicker of interest passed over Tavien’s features. Brief. Controlled. But it was there.

Still, he didn’t respond. He simply opened the door and stepped out, straightening to his full height as the morning wind whipped through the edges of his tailored coat. The building loomed above him, but Tavien didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. He owned it. Every floor, every shadow, every soul who stepped foot inside — they all belonged to him.

Behind him, Aiden climbed out as well, falling into step with the silent force he’d followed for years. The conversation was over. The message delivered.

The world saw Tavien Zeo Rayn as a titan of industry, a philanthropist, a man of power and prestige.

But those who truly knew him understood the truth.

He didn’t just rule this city.

He owned it.

And anyone foolish enough to cross him would learn that lesson the hard way.