Vengeance in velvet

The Apex Predator

Seraphina’s POV

The obsidian glass tower of Vance Holdings was not only leaping to the sky, it cut through it cold and unyielding.

I was so small in the middle of the huge marble lobby. Every step I took echoed on the shiny ground as if a counter was being drawn against my undoing. I clutched my hands in my coat pockets, hoping that Marcus didn't see the tremor in my hands.

My knuckles were whiter than white. Everything in my chest was quiet, hollow and aching.

It was now seventy two hours since Damian had ripped my world apart. Three days later he smiled in my eyes, and said he loved me more than anything, and gave me to the wolves to save his empire. I can still sense his warm, soothing hand, but one that's as silly as it is hurtful.

The air I breathed contained his betrayal, a noxious smoke that had the power to suffocate me from within.

I wasn’t here out of bravery. I had come here on the basis of hatred, and hatred being the only reason that made my blood circulate.

“Stop for a second, Seraphina.”

The waterfall in the lobby hummed, and this was accented by Marcus Drake's low voice.

He grabbed my elbow and tugged me to a darkened recess next to some private express elevators. Typically analytical and calculating, his eyes now featured a fear I did not often see in him.

"Look at me," Marcus demanded softly.

I turned to him, forcing my chin up.

"I’m looking, Marcus."

You're going into the slaughterhouse with a plastic knife," he grumbled, as though he were talking to himself.

"We need to go over this one last time.

It's important to know who Julian Vance is before you step foot in that private elevator.

“He's the rival of Damian,” I said in a raspy voice.

That's all I need to know, that I'm too busy.

"No, Seraphina, that’s where you’re deadly wrong," Marcus hissed, his fingers tightening on my sleeve.

Yes, that's exactly what Damian is, a shark.

He's scheming, greedy and cruel.

But Julian Vance?

Julian is the Apex Predator.

He doesn't eat the market... he eats the market.

He's the Dark Prince of VC.

Men such as Damian have been striving to build empires since their birth.

In the afternoon Julian Vance tears them apart.

I could feel a chill that seemed to go down my spine but I wouldn't flinch.

Good.

If he does, he can rip Damian to shreds.

And what if he bites you with those teeth?

Marcus responded with a voice that was both raw and frustrated. "Julian Vance doesn't have allies.

He's got assets and he's got prey.

Remember he purchased the Sterling Group last year?

On national television, their CEO requested his mercy.

Vance didn't even lift his eyes from his cell phone as his lawyers took away his home, name, and dignity. Three weeks later the man was ruined and in exile.

Now Marcus held both of my arms, and looked into my eyes.

How is it you're so pale, Seraphina? You’re bleeding internally.

Damian's crush and dumped you. You are raw, desperate and motivated by only animosity. The moment Julian Vance opens the doors to his office, he'll smell that weakness.

He will not only use you, he will destroy anything that remains of your soul.

I closed my eyes for a blink.

Weakness.

The word resonated in my shadowed eyes.

I recalled sitting on the hardwood floor of my apartment 3 nights ago, gazing at the empty room where Damian's belongings used to be. I did recall the burning tracks of tears on my face, the aching of my ribs from sobbing until they bled.

I'd loved Damian with all the broken bits of my heart.

I had confided in him all of my secrets, my career, my body.

That's all of his devotion he'd used to make my fall weapon.

There was no one there when I opened my eyes, and there weren't any tears. In their place was a cold, searing fire.

I whispered into his ear, "I don't have a soul left to break, Marcus.

"Damian took care of that. There's nothing here except for a cage.

And I’m letting the beast out."

Marcus stared at me, his mouth parting slightly.

He knew the turning point.

The girl who used to laugh at silly jokes and believe in fairy tales was in the bedroom of Damians' penthouse. The female figure in front of him was a ghost searching for a cemetery.

He loosened his grip on my arms gradually, letting loose a long drawl, defeated breath.

God help us both."

He took a sleek, unmarked black key card out of his inner jacket pocket and handed it to me.

Top floor. Marcus spoke in a quiet voice, "A Penthouse suite.

"Julian doesn't take unannounced visitors.

Ever.

I spent all my good will that I had in the financial world to give you five minutes, (but I'm still willing to give you more time).

Just 5 minutes, Seraphina.

In 300 seconds he will have security throw you out into the street if they won't get him to help you.

Or worse."

I said “Five minutes is all I need.”

I gripped the plastic keycard in my fingers.

It was surprisingly heavy to hold.

I walked away from Marcus, having taken my eyes off him.

The private elevator seemed to lead down into another deep, endless pit. My heart patted my ribs like a trapped wild bird that didn't know what to do, but my face was a face of carved ice.

I scanned the card. The elevator doors slowly opened with a quiet but menacing sound.

The interior features brushed steel walls and mirrors. I looked into the mirror, saw my skin tone, my dark circles hiding under the layers of make-up, dark red lipstick, blood red against my pale lips. I was like a woman on her way to an execution.

Only one question: Whose?

The elevator did not fall off or even wobble, it simply moved up, floor by floor, tearing away the ground of the lower world.

10... 20... 40... 60... 75.

The elevator bonged at the penthouse floor and the doors opened to the room which seemed to be a throne room, rather than an office, and it was at a great height.

Glass walls rose from the floor around all sides, and afforded a dizzying, god-like view of the sprawling city below.

The decor was very simple, dark leather, charcoal stone, and complete silence.

Standing by the window, his back to me, was a man.

He was tall and broad-shouldered under a dark charcoal suit and was holding a crystal glass of amber liquid in his right hand. He didn't turn around when the elevator doors opened. He didn't even move.

Silence filled the air with a voice that had the power to crush the fragile heart of the young girl, "You have four minutes and forty seconds left, Miss Vance.

It was deep, smooth and always accompanied by a deadly, silent command. It was as heavy as lead and shook straight into my chest.

I stepped out onto the dark stone floor, and I said, “My name is Seraphina.”

Not Vance.

Not yet."

Cautiously and deliberately, the man pivoted around.

Julian Vance.

His face was as if it was painted by a master painter of danger. High cheekbones, a sharp unyielding jawline, eyes that were as piercing as frozen steel. His face had no smile on it. No curiosity. It was just a predatory, ruthless intelligence that seemed to tear my clothing, skin and pride from me in one glance, reading all the dark secrets written on my bones.

He came slowly toward me, his dark eyes fixed upon me, a challenge that was almost unspoken.

On his lips, the name of “Seraphina” formed a sentence.

The girl that Damian let go.

He was only a few feet away from me.

There was an electric stillness between us, stuffy and oppressive. His presence seemed to be pushing me down, as if it were going to crush me.

Little ghost, tell me," Julian whispered, leaning down a little, steel eyes burning into my face.

Now are you looking for a savior... or are you looking for a monster?

I drew a breath and my voice caught in my throat. The pain in my heart hit my ribs and I knew that Marcus was mistaken. Julian Vance was not the top predator.

He was indeed the devil himself. It's just that I'd just given him my leash.