The Dark Contract Of A Ruthless Godfather

LUTHER'S POV~> “Found her sir." I straighten myself, wine glass in hand, watching the raindrops run down the window pane like tears from the sky. A devilish smile creeps across my face as I slowly turn to face my men, waiting in anticipation for my next order in the doorway. “The girl?" I c****d my head to the side and saw Ryan, my second in command nod, taking a step forward with an ipad in his hand. My lips curl. “Flick on the lights." I say to no one in particular, going over to take my seat around the large table in my office. My fingers begin to tap on the glass table when a sharp click echoes through the room. Suddenly, the room is filled with light, bathing it in a stark glow. My mood sours. Darkness has always been my ally, a reflection of the shadows that dwell within me. However, I know my men need to see my face as I speak, their eyes long adjusted to the perpetual darkness I prefer. “Bring it forward." I ordered Ryan, and saw him come around the table to place the iPad before me. “There she is, sir." And that's all I want to know. My eyes narrow in on the iPad as Ryan swipes across the screen, revealing an array of different faces until he stops on a small, almost hidden figure. She stands in the corner of the ballroom, seeming to avoid attention, but something stirs within me, like a dark hunger awakening. But it wasn't enough to see her clearer. I lean in closer, snatching the iPad from Ryan and scrutinizing her features with a newfound fascination. A wicked grin spreads across my lips and I know what to do next. There she is. My Camille. How f*****g long have I waited for her? Searched for her? And finally she's within my grasp, only remaining for me to take a step– a baby step and then finally she's mine. As I watch, she turns, her crystalline blue eyes like the depths of the ocean meeting the gaze of the man who approaches her. She's the entire definition of a grown woman, delicious curves, thick thighs and long dark hair I can't wait to wrap around my fists as I pound into her. My lips turns dry as I watch how her black gown fits her like a second skin, revealing a small part of her breasts. I lick my lips. A gentle, almost bashful smile graces her lips, sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through my veins, hardening my c**k. My focus narrows to a pinpoint, the world around me blurring as I draw the iPad closer to my face. My thumb hovers over the screen, aching to trace the curve of her plump, pink lips. But as I watch her father, my employee, my heart darkens with jealousy. Why should he be the receiver of that radiant smile when the smile should belong to only me? He has no inkling of the true reasons for his promotion. I had done it just because of his daughter– part of my plans though. My eyes gleam with an unholy light as I watch them converse, plots forming in the dark recesses of my mind. She'll soon be mine. Before I can utter a word, a shrill whistle pierces the air and my head whips around, my gaze zeroing in on one of my men who is captivated by the iPad in his hands. Ryan's device is linked to the rest of my men, and I instantly realize he is staring at what is rightfully mine. A primal fury surges through me, my fists balling at my sides as I struggle to contain the seething rage that threatens to consume me. One of his comrades nudges him, and he meets my icy gaze with wide-eyed terror. I beckon him forward, and he approaches, face drained of color. My voice is a low, dangerous rumble as I speak, the words dripping with venom. "What, exactly, do you think you are doing?" My eyes blazed with murderous intensity. “Sir– I…” "Give it to me.” I outstretch my hand and watch as he lowers his iPad into my hand and without a bat of an eye, I smash the iPad to the ground and hear it shatter. He flinches. “Next time you stare at what's mine… that would be the sound of your bones breaking.” He gulps, nods and takes a step backward as I begin to rise from my chair. “Gentlemen…” A sinister smirk spreads across my face. “Time to hunt… time to take what's mine.” I grab my glass of wine , taking a sip as I brushed past the trembling man, making my way out of the door and they follow behind. Ryan, comes to stand beside me, keying away something in his iPad, probably to alert the rest of my men surrounding the ballroom that I'm coming. For months, I have been carefully crafting this plan. The large lavish ball, a several well crafted lies,that would lure in the unsuspecting prey— Camille. I instructed every single one of my employees to bring their female relatives, spinning a web of lies about how I was in search of a wife, when in truth, my sights were set on a single, unsuspecting soul. Her… To approach her directly would be foolish, I already had a bad reputation as a deranged, billionaire sociopath, who thinks he can buy anything with money and who was involved in several shady businesses. Well… they had no idea. So that's why instead, I bide my time. Her father, a man I know all too well, would surely whisk her away if I ever let my intention known to him and so I kept my desires hidden. And now today is the day. There is no escape from my clutches, no sanctuary that can protect her from me. She is mine, and I will stop at nothing until she is within my grasp. My hand slips casually into my pocket as I enter the hall, drinking in the crowd's whispered exclamations. With predatory grace, I beckon a passing waiter with a single finger, then take a flute of champagne from his tray. I raise the flute in a silent toast, relishing the attention. "Why the tense air?" I ask, feigning curiosity as I c**k my head to the side with a wicked gleam in my eye. But as I spot a man whispering to Camille, my expression hardens into a cruel mask. My grip on the flute tightens, and I start to move towards them, ready to punch the daylight out of the asshole's eyes for trying to talk to what's mine. But Ryan intervenes, his jaw clenched. "Boss, please. Hitting him would scare the girl.” I pause, considering. Camille will not escape me, not even if she tries to flee to the depths of hell itself. But for now, I keep my monstrous rage in check. "Let's enjoy the party, shall we?" I murmur. My eyes are glued to Camille, but she remains blissfully unaware of the predator in her midst. She fidgets with her bag, pointedly avoiding my gaze, while I make my way to the stage, relishing the attention of the crowd as everyone's gaze locks onto me. My jaw tightens in irritation. Why won't she look at me? Why the f**k can't she give me just one goddamn glance? But still, I can't tear my eyes away from her. I snatch the mic from the waiting man and turn to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen," I begin, my voice dripping with dark, malevolent energy. My smirk is sinister, the smirk of a devil incarnate. "Thank you for coming. Thank you for honoring my invitation and indulging me." I pause for a moment, my eyes raking over the assembled guests, lingering on the young women in the crowd. "And now, it is time for me to select my wife. I implore everyone, alongside their daughters, to make their way towards me." The crowd stirs in anticipation, some of the women blushing under my piercing gaze. But I pay them no mind, my attention fixed firmly on Camille. She shifts uncomfortably, her gaze flitting everywhere but to me. "Time to pick my wife," I repeat, a dangerous edge to my voice. I smile, but there's nothing benevolent about it. It's the smile of a man who has the power to take whatever he wants, and tonight, that happens to be a bride. Young women begin to form a line before me, but Camille remains rooted to her spot with her father. The sight of another girl - perhaps her sister - fawning over her father and joining the queue fills me with a dark rage. My heart clenches in irritation, my good humor draining away. I step down from the stage, my boots pounding on the floor with dark purpose. I ignore the hushed whispers of the crowd, my focus locked solely on Camille. As I reach her, her eyes finally meet mine, shock and apprehension evident in her beautiful blue gaze. "James Hamilton," I nod at her father, barely suppressing my impatience. He returns the gesture with a wary bow. "Good morning sir, this is my daughter—" he begins, but I cut him off. "Camille Hamilton." I watch as his expression tightens, wariness giving way to alarm. With a dismissive wave of my hand, I dismiss her father from my mind, focusing on the prize before me. I extend my hand, my eyes never leaving hers. She hesitates, glancing nervously at her father. His silence seems to give her the courage to place her hand in mine. The softness of her skin almost melts me. f**k me! She is perfect, made to be my queen. I allow myself a small, victorious smile. "Camille Hamilton," I say again, savoring her name on my tongue. "Shall we join the others?" Then I place a small kiss at the back of her palm and just like a connection, goosebumps laces through her skin. She shakes her head, her hand pulling away from mine, and I fight back a dark growl of frustration at the loss of contact. "I'm sorry, Mr. Castillo, my sister is representing our family," she says, her voice so soft. I wondered how she would sound when she moans under me. Her full lips which would soon be wrapping around my c**k, capture my attention for a moment, before I shift my gaze to James, a dark chuckle rumbling in my chest. Before I can speak, the girl who has joined the line, obviously older than Camille and bears a resemblance to her, joins us. She twirls her hair, trying to capture my attention, but I ignore her. "Hello, Mr. Castillo, I am—" she begins, holding out her hand to me, but I don't even look at her. Her face reddens in shame and I can't help but smirk. Turning my full attention to Camille, I speak with a dark authority that brooks no argument. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my pick, Camille Hamilton." The room falls silent, and I watch as both James and his other daughter pale. I've made my choice, and nothing can change that.