Deal with the devil’s heir

Asha's POV They said the empire would last forever. That's what my father had always told me when I was a little girl sitting on his lap, playing with the shiny cufflinks he wore like trophies of power. ''Blackwell can't touch us,' he'd said once, his voice a thunderous promise. ''We make our own fortune.'' But tonight, his voice didn't sound like thunder. It cracked. It shook. And the empire he had built—our family legacy—was falling apart in front of my eyes. I stood in his office, surrounded by walls lined with books and awards, though none of them mattered now. His gray hair seemed thinner under the glow of the desk lamp, his hands trembling as he tried to light a cigar that wouldn't catch. ''We're out of time, Asha,'' he muttered, more to himself than to me. ''The debts, the contracts—everything is slipping. The only person who can help us is Damian Blackwell.'' The name sliced through the air like a blade. I froze. ''The Devil's heir?'' He finally looked up at me, his eyes hollow, as if the fight had already bled out of him. ''Yes. Him. He has the resources, the reach... He's dangerous, but he can save us.'' Dangerous was an understatement. I'd heard the whispers about Damian Blackwell—how entire companies disappeared overnight after crossing him, how he walked through boardrooms like a king dressed in ink and shadows. They called him ruthless. They called him cursed. Some even called him the devil himself. And now my father wanted to strike a deal with him. I'm even surprised dad thought of him to be our rescue. The Montero and the Blackwell families have never been on good terms. I grew up to know that fact. ''Dad, this is insane.'' My voice rose despite the lump in my throat. "We can't trust him. He doesn't save people, he destroys them.'' His shoulders sagged. For the first time in my life, he looked smaller than me. ''There's no other way, Asha. But you don't understand—this won't work unless he wants it. And men like him don't negotiate with weakness. He'll laugh in my face.'' I clenched my fists. Weakness. That word burned through me like fire. My father might have lost his strength, but I wasn't about to let us drown. Not without trying. ''Then let me go.'' I said. He blinked at me, startled. ''What?'' ''I'll talk to him, I'll convince him.'' ''No, absolutely not. You don't know the man, Asha. He'll-'' ''Exactly,'' I cut him off. ''I don't know him. Which means he doesn't know me either. That's our advantage. If he wanted to crush you, he's already planned for it. But me? He won't see me coming'' The truth was—I didn't see myself coming either. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it might break out of my chest, but there was no turning back. If Damian Blackwell was the devil, then I would already be halfway to hell. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- His world was another universe from ours. By the time I reached Blackwell estate, the city lights had vanished behind me. The car rolled through tall iron gates that swung open on their own, like some unseen force was expecting me. My stomach tightened. The Blackwell estate was not a home; it was a fortress. Sleek, black stone, glass walls and sharp angles that rose against the night sky like a predator's jaw. Security camera tracked me as I stepped out of the car, my heels crunching against the gravel driveway. And yet, no guards stopped me. No one demanded to know why I was there. The front doors opened without a sound, swallowing me whole. It was too easy. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. An unsettling feeling gathered at the pit of my stomach, somewhat reminding me of my father's warning. Maybe this wasn't me entering into his world. Maybe this was him letting me in. The inside of the estate was worse—cold marble floors, ceilings so high I felt small just breathing under them. Every corner was silent, empty, but I could feel him watching. Then I saw him. He was standing at the far end of the hall, aura unmatched, hands in his pocket, watching me like he'd been there all along. Damien Blackwell. Stories hadn't prepared me for him. Not the sharp cut of his jaw, not the ink that snaked beneath the open collar of his shirt, not the faint scar that dragged across his cheek like a warning. His presence filled the space, heavy and suffocating, but my eyes couldn't look away. His blue eyes were heavenly. ''So,'' his voice smooth and dark, like smoke curling through the room. ''The princess finally found her way to the devil's door.'' My lips parted, but no words came. He already knew who I was. He'd expected me. ''You wanted to see me?'' he asked, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. I swallowed hard, forcing my voice steady. ''My father's empire is collapsing. He thinks you're the only one who can save it.'' He tilted his head, studying me as though I were some strange creature he'd never seen before. ''And you?'' ''What about me?'' I asked. ''You don't look like someone who came here just to beg on her father's behalf.'' His gaze darkened, sharp as a blade. ''You look like someone who's already decided to make a deal. The question is...what exactly are you willing to offer?'' The air between us thickened, hot and suffocating. My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it. For a split second, I wondered if I'd made a mistake. Coming here. Walking straight into the wolf's den. But then his eyes caught mine, and I understood something terrifying. He hadn't just let me in. He'd been waiting. And whatever bargain Damian Blackwell had in mind, I knew it wouldn't come without a price.