Author’s POV

His aura darkened the room the moment he stepped inside. If anyone could shift the air just by existing, it was Liam Wolf. The heir of the Wolf Empire and a name that carried weight in the world of the mafia.

The room fell silent, not gradually or uncertainly. It dropped into silence like a switch had been flipped. He didn't need to speak, his presence was enough.

Tall, broad, and built like something carved out of sin itself, Liam walked in with slow, unbothered steps, his bodyguards trailing behind him like shadows that knew their place. There was something unsettling about the way he moved. Calm and controlled like a man who knew nothing in that room could touch him.

He looked like a devil who had learned patience.

And his eyes… they held nothing soft, nothing human.

There was no emotion on his face. Only a quiet, dangerous darkness that made people look away without realizing they were doing it.

If evil ever needed a face, it would look like him. Liam Wolf was not famous for mercy, kindness or restraint. He was known for one thing. He took what he wanted.

Always!

“Don’t mind me, gentlemen. Continue.”

His voice was low, smooth, and carried an edge that made it sound less like a suggestion and more like a warning. He did not even bother looking at anyone properly as he walked to his chair at the head of the table and sat down like he owned the place.

A faint, almost amused smile touched his lips. It was not warm or friendly. It was sinister.

He knew exactly why he was here. And he already knew how it would end.

Around the table, businessmen sat stiffly, their expressions carefully neutral, though the tension in the room betrayed them. They were waiting for the announcement. Waiting for the speaker to declare who had won the tender.

But no one was really focused on the tender. They were focused on him. On the man who had just walked in and turned the air heavy.

Men shifted in their seats, some adjusting their ties, some avoiding eye contact. They knew his reputation. Everyone in that room did.

Liam did not compete, he always dominated. And when he wanted something, he did not walk away without it. That was the problem. Because today, they had decided he would.

Jaffery Lorence sat among them, trying to keep his composure intact. He had been the one to plan all of this. The one who had brought everyone together and had ensured that Liam would not get the tender. He had thought it through, calculated every move. Even the speaker had been involved into the plan. They couldn't afford Liam winning this tender, he was already powerful and this would make him unbreakable. Pulling him down was necessary for them to climb higher.

Everything was in place, except one thing.

Liam!

And that was more than enough to ruin everything. Liam leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping once against the armrest before going still. His patience was not kindness. It was control. He could wait because in the end, things came to him anyway.

The speaker cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under the weight of Liam’s presence. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the papers in front of him.

“And now,”

He began, his voice not as steady as he would have liked,

“Yhe tender goes to… Jaffery Lorence.”

There was a pindrop silence, because no one in that room was foolish enough to celebrate.

Not when Liam Wolf was sitting right there.

Liam let out a low deep chuckle, dark and sinister. It sounded like something had just confirmed his expectations. The sound spread through the room like a ripple, making spines stiffen and breaths hitch.

Liam slowly turned his head toward Jaffery. That alone was enough to make the man’s throat go dry. Jaffery had made the biggest mistake of his life by sitting next to him. Not that distance would have saved him. But it would have delayed the inevitable.

Jaffery forced a smile, trying to mask the flicker of fear that had crept into his eyes.

“What happened, Liam… Freaking—”

He never got to finish.

The knife slid in so smoothly that for a second, it did not even register. Liam’s hand moved with precision. No hesitation and no wasted motion. The blade went straight into Jaffery’s chest.

Right into his heart. Jaffery’s words died in his throat as his body stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His head fell back, lifeless before his body even slumped. It was quick, clean, effortless.

Gasps filled the room, some men were freezing in place, others were gripping the edges of the table as if that could somehow protect them.

Some had expected this, others had not. But no one was surprised. Because this was Liam.

And Liam did not lose. He never lost.

Liam pulled the knife out casually, as if he had just finished a minor task. He stood up, adjusting his cuffs calmly.

“I am very disheartened to inform you,”

He said, his voice steady, almost polite

“That Mr. Late Jaffery Lorence cannot take the tender.”

A faint smirk curved his lips as he looked around at the pale, sweating faces.

“This handover should be fair. So is there anyone in the room who wants to take this tender?”

No one spoke. No one even breathed too loudly. Because they knew, this was not a question.

It was a warning.

Liam’s gaze moved across the room, slow and deliberate, watching the fear settle deeper into their expressions. He was enjoying this. Always enjoyed it.

Then he turned toward the speaker.

“May I?”

The man was shaking now.

“Yes… yes, Mr. Liam.”

His hands trembled as he passed the documents over.

Liam took them without a word. As always, he got what he wanted. He did not look back as he walked out. He never did.

Outside, the air felt lighter, but not for long. He reached his car, sliding into the back seat with the same calm dominance he carried everywhere.

“Liam, you killed him. His family will come after you.”

Glenn’s voice was careful but there was a hint of concern beneath it.

Liam did not even look at him.

“Kill all of them.”

The words came out flat and simple like he was giving instructions to clean something up.

Glenn froze.

“All of them?”

That made Liam glance at him.

“I don’t leave my shit behind, Glenn. You are my right hand man, you know that.”

There was no anger in his tone, just a quiet certainty that made it worse.

“Call Surumi,”

Liam added, leaning back slightly.

“I want her there before I reach.”

Glenn swallowed and nodded.

He looked down at the documents in his hand, a dark smile formed on his lips.

It was another win, a step higher and another stain added to his name. And he wore it like a crown.

By the time he reached home, everything was already in place. The gates opened without delay. The staff knew better than to keep him waiting.

Inside, the house was silent. Just the way he liked it. He walked straight to his room, not bothering to acknowledge anyone along the way.

Surumi was already there. Sitting on the sofa, waiting for him. She stood up the moment she saw him, a bright smile flashed across her face.

She was beautiful. Everything about her was polished, perfect and elegant.

She knew it too. Coming from a rich family, she had always gotten what she wanted.

And in her mind, Liam was her greatest achievement.

“Li, how was your day?”

Her voice was soft, playful as she walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps. There was something feline about her movements. Graceful, controlled and designed to draw attention.

But Liam did not even look at her. He walked past her, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside without care. His focus was elsewhere. Always somewhere else.

“You look tired,”

She said, moving behind him and wrapping her arms around his torso, pressing herself against him.

Liam picked up a glass, pouring himself a drink without responding. He finished it in one go and turned. Finally looking at her.

His eyes were dark.

“Strip.”