Chapter Seven: Second Best
670 Words
Pius sat motionless in his leather chair, staring out the wall of glass that overlooked the city. His office sat at the very top of Top Shot Tower, a fortress of steel and ambition piercing the skyline. Below him, the city glittered—streets thrumming with headlights, billboards flashing his company’s logo in neon.
It should have been a view of triumph. Instead, Sebastine’s voice echoed in his mind.
“Second best.”
He muttered the words again, this time through gritted teeth.
“Second best…”
The phrase tasted like acid. His jaw tightened, and he slammed a fist against the armrest.
All his life, people had looked up to him—the boy genius in high school, the prodigy in university, the visionary who built Top Shot Technology from a garage and turned it into an empire. He had once been untouchable. Worshipped.
Until one mistake brought it all crashing down.
He had nearly lost everything—his company, his legacy, his pride. And in his desperation, he made a deal with the devil.
Sebastine.
From the beginning, Pius had known the man wasn’t human. No sunlight. No reflection. No soul behind those cold, ancient eyes. But Pius hadn’t cared. Not when Sebastine had wiped out every rival threatening to bury Top Shot Technology.
The very next morning, the headlines had screamed with deaths—car crashes, fires, mysterious disappearances. Every name on his list… gone.
And every accusation against him? Buried. Vanished. Sebastine had saved his empire. But at a price.
A soul for an empire.
Now the same man who rescued him toyed with him. Mocked him.
“Second best,” Pius spat, pounding the desk.
The sound echoed in the vast office. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the night sky, and the air smelled faintly of polished steel and imported leather. His desk—an obsidian slab imported from Italy—gleamed under the recessed lights.
The room was designed to impress: rare paintings on the walls, glass cases displaying vintage microchips like priceless relics. And yet, surrounded by every symbol of success, Pius felt small. Trapped.
A knock broke his thoughts.
“Come in,” he barked.
One of his men entered, bowing his head. “Boss, the trials at the Ravenshade estate are over. Luca was chosen.”
Pius leaned back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Luca…” he murmured.
The agent nodded once and slipped out.
Pius rose, footsteps echoing across the marble floor as he paced. The Ravenshades—how had they risen so fast? From obscurity to the number-one tech empire in the world. Their devices cleaner, faster, more powerful than anything Top Shot could build.
Rumors whispered of a hidden power source. Something ancient. Something no human science could replicate.
He remembered what his spy had reported:
“Sir, the heiress… she shot fire from her bare hands.”
Magic. Supernatural blood.
Just like Sebastine.
Could that be their secret? Their edge?
Pius’s eyes gleamed. “If I can find that power source… I’ll have more than tech. I’ll have control. Over them all.”
His pulse quickened. He could almost feel Sebastine’s gaze on him, lurking in the dark corners of the office. He checked the shadows and realized it was only his imagination. A short, bitter laugh escaped him.
“No one will ever call me second best again,”
he said, louder now. His lips curled into a wicked grin. “Not Sebastine. Not the world.”
But the grin faded quickly, replaced by a hard line.
Sebastine was hunting too. That book—the one whispered about in the shadows. The one that could unchain him from the night.
The one that would make Pius… obsolete.
If Sebastine got it first—
“No.”
He turned sharply, snatching his phone from the desk. The cool weight of it steadied him.
“Now that Luca is inside the Ravenshade
palace,” he said, dialing a number, “it’s time to put my plan into motion.”
- Writer
