The scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air from the last time Damian Valente pulled the trigger in this very room. The previous butler had been a disappointment—too sloppy, too hesitant, and worst of all... disloyal. A bullet between the eyes was his reward.

And now, a new one had been hired in his place.

Damian hadn’t even bothered to meet the replacement. He had no interest in dealing with weak-willed employees who would only end up dead or disposed of. As long as they did their job—silently, efficiently, and without getting in his way—he couldn’t care less about their existence.

So, when the new butler arrived, Damian didn’t extend so much as a glance in their direction. No introductions. No warnings. Nothing.

Until today.

A scent.

Something thick and intoxicating drifted into his office, wrapping around him like an invisible chain. It was overwhelming—almost suffocating—yet it seeped into his lungs with every breath, making his fingers twitch against his desk.

His silver eyes snapped up.

Someone was approaching.

His heart kicked against his ribs—too fast, too erratic. His pupils dilated, his grip tightening on the glass of whiskey in his hand until it nearly cracked.

What the fuck was that scent?

For the first time in his life, Damian felt something foreign and uncontrollable coil inside him. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t disgust. It was something far, far worse.

And it was coming closer.