Chapter Seven

Damien rubbed his temples as the latest email from Elvis Ford popped up on his screen. The man had been an absolute pain in the ass since the beginning of negotiations. Elvis Ford, the CEO of Ford Enterprises, had inherited his father's company, and instead of honoring the legacy, he had sold it off without a second thought. The bastard had made it clear from the start that he had no real interest in the business—he was just looking to cash out and enjoy the endless parties, women, and empty nights his money afforded him.

Damien leaned back in his chair, glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. His penthouse was on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city, and the view was as much a symbol of his success as the steel and glass that made up his empire. He'd built this. From the ground up. Every deal, every acquisition, every contract—he ran it all.

And now, he was just a few signatures away from finalizing the deal that would bring Ford Enterprises into his fold. But he had to get through Elvis Ford first and the man had made the whole process far more painful than it needed to be.

Elvis was a piece of work. The type of man who had inherited everything, from his father's wealth to the corporate empire, only to squander it. Damien had heard all about Elvis's less-than-impressive leadership—countless stories of him throwing lavish parties while his company floundered. Rumor had it that Elvis had been sleeping his way through half the board members' daughters, all while sipping top-shelf whiskey and pretending to care about the company's future.

Damien snorted in disgust. If it weren't for his well-known reputation as a businessman who could turn anything into gold, Elvis would have run Ford Enterprises into the ground long ago. Damien had no patience for people like Elvis—people who thought they could coast on charm and privilege rather than hard work.

At least the bargaining phase was over and for the first time in weeks, Damien felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. No more late-night calls with Elvis trying to squeeze out just a little more for himself. No more sitting across the table from a man who couldn't even pretend to care about the future of the business he was running.

Damien checked the time. The final meeting was set for later that afternoon, and he couldn't wait to be done with it. He had more important things to focus on. Things that didn't involve babysitting some overpaid, spoiled CEO whose only real accomplishment was staying drunk long enough to sign papers.

He had to admit, though, the deal would be profitable. Ford Enterprises had some valuable assets that would fit nicely into his growing empire. But it would be the last time he dealt with Elvis Ford. The moment the ink dried on the contract, Elvis would be out of the picture, and Damien would take full control.

Damien stared at the email for a moment, his finger hovering over the reply button. Elvis had been difficult at every turn, and now he was trying to squeeze in one last ridiculous request before signing.

"Damien, my friend," the email started, "I understand you're eager to finalize, but I just have one more thing to discuss before we move ahead. My father's legacy is important to me, and I'm sure you can appreciate that. Perhaps a little more in the valuation would be fair, considering..."

Damien slammed the laptop closed, cutting off Elvis's voice before it could irritate him further. He could feel his patience thinning, his hands balling into fists. Elvis was exactly the kind of person Damien despised. Insecure, greedy, and lazy, he didn't even have the decency to honor his father's hard work. Just like the rest of the useless heirs who thought wealth and power were theirs by right.

With a deep breath, he composed himself, refusing to let the small frustrations eat at him. He wasn't going to waste any more time thinking about the man. The deal would be done soon, and it would be the last deal Elvis Ford ever made.

Just then, the door to his office opened with a soft creak. Rylan walked in, his ever-present smirk plastered on his face. Behind him was a younger man, Tom, if Damien recalled correctly. Damien's eyes narrowed slightly as the door clicked shut behind them.

"Damien," Rylan greeted, his voice casual but respectful. "Thought you might be done with business for the day, but we've got updates."

Damien straightened, his eyes sharpening. "What have you found?"

Rylan pulled up a chair, his movements fluid and easy as he sat down. Tom remained standing, his posture rigid, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of Damien. He was new to the pack—still getting used to the weight of the responsibility that came with being part of Damien's inner circle. Damien's gaze flicked to him before returning to Rylan.

"Lycaon Order's been quiet," Rylan began. "Too quiet. We haven't heard much from them since the incident, and it seems they've scattered, gone underground."

Damien's jaw tightened. "And what about the lead we had?"

"We've got a hostage," Rylan said, a flicker of something dark in his eyes.

Damien's eyes narrowed. "Is he talking?"

Ryan exchanged a glance with Tom before responding. "Not yet. He's stubborn, but we'll get there. It's only a matter of time before he cracks."

Damien's fingers drummed against the table. "Patience isn't a luxury we have. They won't stop until they—" The words caught in his throat. He shook his head slightly, pushing the thought aside.

"I know," Rylan said, his voice grim. "But we've got eyes everywhere. We'll find them, Damien. I'm confident we'll get the information we need."

Damien nodded, his mind already working through the possibilities. There were too many unknowns. Too many risks. And none of it mattered if Lena wasn't safe.

Tom shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between Damien and Rylan. "Anything else?" he asked quietly.

Damien turned his gaze to him. "No. You're dismissed."

Tom hesitated for a moment, but when Damien didn't offer anything more, he nodded and left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving only Damien and Rylan.

A heavy silence settled between them for a moment before Rylan spoke again.

"So, is she in the loop yet?"

Damien froze. His heart clenched before he masked the reaction. "What do you mean?"

Rylan's gaze flicked to the door as if confirming they were alone. "She doesn't know, does she?" he said, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Not yet?"

Damien's fingers clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He knew exactly what Rylan was implying.

"No, she doesn't," Damien said, his voice cold. "And when she does, I'll be the one to tell her. Understand?"

Rylan held up his hand in mock defeat. "Hey, I'm not saying I'd be the one to do it. Just curious if she knew." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Damien. "It's a big thing, man. You know that. When she finds out, it's going to change everything. She won't be able to just walk away after that."