CHAPTER4
965 Words
RUTHLESS CEO
The Blackwood Empire didn’t wake up in the morning.
It activated.
Glass towers across Manhattan lit up like a silent warning as Blackwood Enterprises came alive—security systems, boardrooms, private elevators, and floors that most people would never step foot on.
At the very top of it all… was Damian Blackwood.
And he ruled it without effort.
BLACKWOOD BOARDROOM — 9:00 A.M.
“Explain it again,” Damian said calmly.
His voice wasn’t raised.
It didn’t need to be.
The entire room was already tense.
Across the long black table, eight executives sat stiffly, laptops open, documents spread out like evidence in a courtroom.
One of them cleared his throat.
“Sir, the Morrison Group is attempting to back out of the acquisition deal.”
Silence.
Damian leaned back in his chair slightly, expression unreadable.
“Back out,” he repeated softly.
The executive nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.
They’re claiming financial reconsideration—”
Damian raised a hand.
The man stopped immediately.
No one moved.
No one breathed too loudly.
Damian stood slowly.
The sound of his chair shifting echoed through the room like a warning.
He walked toward the glass wall, hands in his pockets. Below them, New York moved like nothing important was happening.
People rushed. Cars moved. Life continued.
But inside this room…
Everything stopped for him.
“Call Morrison,” Damian said finally.
“Yes, sir.”
The executive reached for his phone immediately.
Damian didn’t turn around.
“I want him on video.”
A pause.
“And I want him to understand something clearly.”
The room felt colder.
“He doesn’t decline me.”
Silence.
Even the air felt heavier.
TWO HOURS LATER — LIVE VIDEO CALL
A nervous middle-aged man appeared on the screen.
Mr. Morrison.
He forced a smile.
“Mr. Blackwood, I apologize for the inconvenience, but we’ve decided to—”
Damian cut him off instantly.
“Stop.”
Just one word.
The man froze.
Damian sat down slowly in front of the camera now, resting one arm on the table.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
“Let me make this simple,” he said.
Morrison swallowed.
Damian continued.
“You signed a contract.”
“Yes—but market conditions—”
“Market conditions don’t change signed agreements,” Damian interrupted again.
A pause.
Then he tilted his head slightly.
“Or did you think they did?”
The man hesitated.
Damian leaned forward slightly. And for the first time… Something darker flickered in his eyes.
“Tell me,” he said quietly. “Who advised you to pull out?”
Silence.
Morrison shifted uncomfortably. "I… I made the decision myself.”
Damian stared at him for a long moment then nodded once.
“Bad answer.”
The room behind Damian was still. Even his executives knew that tone. It meant consequences.
Damian stood up.
“Your company will be evaluated for breach of contract,” he said calmly.
Morrison panicked. “Wait—Mr. Blackwood, please—”
But Damian was already turning away. The screen stayed on, Morrison’s voice rose slightly. “We can fix this—”
Damian stopped at the door. Didn’t look back.
“Three weeks,” he said.
Silence.
Morrison frowned. “What?”
Damian’s voice was cold.
“That’s how long your company will last.” He then ended the call.
BOARDROOM — AFTERMATH
No one spoke.
The executives didn’t even look at each other.
One of them finally whispered, “Sir… that is a major partnership.”
Damian adjusted his cufflinks.
“Was,” he corrected.
A pause.
Then he added, almost casually:
“Replace them.”
That was it. No anger. No frustration. Just finality.
One executive hesitated. “Sir, the market reaction—”
Damian turned slightly, just enough.
The man stopped immediately.
Damian’s voice dropped lower. “If the market reacts,” he said, “it adjusts.”
Silence.
“And if it doesn’t,” he added, “it learns.”
No one responded because everyone understood now, this wasn’t just a CEO. This was control.
Absolute.
Unshakable.
LATER — DAMIAN’S OFFICE
The room was quiet again, too quiet.
Damian stood by the glass wall, staring out at the city like it belonged to him personally, but his mind wasn’t on business anymore.
His assistant knocked lightly.
“Sir… the Devereux file has been updated.”
Damian didn’t turn.
“Bring it.”
A folder was placed on his desk.
Ariana Devereux.
Again.
He opened it slowly.
New details. Old history. Financial collapse. Family background.
But none of it mattered the way it should have, because his eyes kept going back to one thing.
Her face.
The same defiance.
The same refusal to look away.
Damian studied it for a long time, then his assistant spoke carefully.
“There’s something unusual, sir.”
Damian didn’t look up. “Speak.”
“Miss Devereux… she’s not involved in any current business activity. No alliances. No financial movement. No corporate interest.”
A pause.
“In other words… she’s irrelevant to the market.”
Silence.
Damian closed the file slowly, then said something that made the room colder than before.
“Then why can’t I stop thinking about her?”
No one answered.
They couldn’t.
Because for the first time…
Damian Blackwood sounded like he was asking a question he didn’t like the answer to.
…………Cont'd
Somewhere across Manhattan…
Ariana Devereux sat in her room staring at the same unknown number.
And Damian
Blackwood stood in his empire… staring at a file that should have meant nothing.
But both of them were already past the point of pretending this was normal.
Because whatever was between them…
It was no longer business. It was an obsession forming in silence.
- Writer
