The Angel on His Shoulders
While Xi Yuan was on the phone with government authorities, assigning tasks to his own team simultaneously, Diablos stepped into the backyard and saw the girl staring blankly at the empty glass in her hand, her fingertips white from the intensity of her grip.
He'd been out all day, managing his affairs, bribing officials to expand the security perimeter around his house, and hiring sharpshooters to monitor for any hint of suspicious activity near Rong Xinghe. His instructions to them were clear and absolute: neutralize any threat on sight.
It had been exhausting, but necessary. He was darkness; she was not.
This brutal, shadowed world suited him. It embraced him, drained the life from everything, and he welcomed it. The allure of darkness, the emptiness—it was his domain, his strength. He was, after all, the villain here.
But her... Jesus, she was something else. So pure, so full of light. Absolute fucking perfection.