Author's Preface
Dante's POV
The global markets had opened exactly twenty-three minutes ago. I glanced down at the sleek tablet resting on my outdoor table, watching a literal sea of green metrics update in real-time.
VALERIUS INNOVATIONS: ▲ 4.8%
Another wildly successful quarter. Artificial intelligence, quantum computing, cutting-edge cybersecurity, my corporate empire had officially become the largest technology conglomerate on the face of the earth. The media loved to call me a genius billionaire entrepreneur. If only those pathetic mortals knew the truth. Seven hundred years of existence gives a man a hell of a lot of time to learn how to manipulate wealth.
I flipped the tablet screen down. The intoxicating scent of blooming roses drifted through the crisp morning air. The massive backyard garden was the only place in my sprawling estate that still felt genuinely peaceful. Miles of white, crimson, and pitch-black roses stretched across the manicured grounds.
"My lord." An elderly man carefully placed a delicate porcelain teacup right before me. "Your morning tea."
"Thank you, Wataru."
The old butler smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling. "I made your favorite blend."
"You've been making the exact same tea for forty years, Wataru."
"And you still drink every drop of it."
I paused, lifting the cup to my lips. "...I do."
Wataru chuckled softly, pouring a cup for himself. His spine had bent slightly with the heavy weight of old age, and his once jet-black hair had turned a stark, dignified silver. Yet, the stubborn old man routinely refused to retire.
"My son keeps pestering me about when you'll finally let me quit, my lord," Wataru remarked dryly.
"So does your grandson."
"Hah! They're already fighting like feral dogs over who gets the absolute honor of serving you next."
I took a slow sip of the hot liquid. "They're eager."
"They're absolute idiots," Wataru countered with a shrug. "But they are incredibly loyal idiots."
I couldn't argue with that. The Kisaragi bloodline had served my vampire lineage for generations. Long before Wataru was even a thought in his mother's womb, his father had stood exactly where he stood now. Before him, his grandfather. And before him, his ancient ancestors. They had remained fiercely by my side while mortal kingdoms rose and fell to ash, while the world forgot my true name, and while everyone else I ever cared about... disappeared.
My gaze drifted back toward the dark roses. Seven hundred years. The sheer number meant absolutely nothing to me anymore. Faces blurred into a haze, bloody wars became distant memories, and entire civilizations vanished into history books. Yet, there was one specific part of my ancient past that remained entirely blank. No matter how hard I clawed at my own mind, I couldn't remember it. Every single time I tried to reach for those ancient memories, a violent, blinding pain would explode behind my eyes, like a physical barrier forcing those secrets to stay buried in the dark.
Why? What the hell had happened to me seven centuries ago? Why did my own immortal mind refuse to give me answers?
"My lord," Wataru's gentle voice violently pulled me out of the spiral. "You're brooding over the past again."
I leaned back in my chair. "...Am I that fucking obvious?"
"You've had that exact same brooding expression since we met forty years ago, my lord."
"Wataru, I'm well over seven hundred."
"Exactly." The old butler smiled mischievously. "Which means you've been making that exact same miserable face for so long already."
A faint, rare laugh escaped my throat. Only Wataru had the balls to joke with an apex predator like that.
Suddenly, the sharp crunch of expensive tires rolling over gravel echoed from the front security gate. Wataru let out a long, heavy sigh. "...It seems your troublesome guests have arrived right on schedule."
A sleek, black luxury sports car screeched to a halt in the driveway. The first person to step out of the vehicle wore a dangerously arrogant, knowing smirk.
Adrian Blackwood. He was clad in a perfectly tailored designer suit, accented with heavy golden cufflinks. His silver-white hair caught the sunlight, but it was his blood-red eyes that gave away his monstrous nature—eyes that always looked intensely amused, possessing the precise look a predator gives its prey right before the slaughter.
Walking closely beside him was his younger sister, Charlotte Blackwood. She possessed the exact same lethal red eyes, framed by long, flowing silver-white hair and flawless, pale skin. She was elegant, breathtakingly beautiful, and far more sadistic than most vampires realized.
"Dante!" Before I could even stand up from the table, Charlotte wrapped her arms tightly around my neck from behind, her cold skin pressing against mine. "You've been ignoring my texts again. It's breaking my heart."
I coldly removed her hands from my shoulders, stepping away. "I've been running a multi-billion dollar company, Charlotte. I'm busy."
"You always say that," she pouted dramatically, stepping into my personal space and lowering her voice into a sultry purr. "So... take me out on a real date tonight."
"No."
"Ugh! You didn't even pretend to think about it!"
"I didn't need to," I replied coldly.
Her playful smile instantly vanished. Adrian burst into a loud, mocking laugh, leaning against the hood of his car. "I told you he'd reject your desperate ass, Charlotte."
Charlotte whipped around, glaring daggers at her brother. "Stay the fuck out of this, Adrian."
I had already stopped listening to their bickering. Something moving across the street completely hijacked my attention.
Across the private estate road, the front door to the neighboring mansion opened. Rose stepped out. She looked devastatingly beautiful, her long violet hair tied back, her curves tightly hugged by a professional pencil skirt beneath a cream lab coat.
But she wasn't alone. A mortal man was walking intimately beside her.
Victor Ashford. The tall mafia heir with straight orange hair.
They exchanged a few words, standing entirely too close for my liking, before heading toward a sleek black vehicle waiting at the curb.
My fingers instantly tightened around my porcelain teacup. A savage, unfamiliar heat exploded deep inside my chest—a violent, burning sensation that made my fangs ache to drop. It felt like my fucking veins were catching fire.
Why the fuck is he with her?
The question came so naturally, so aggressively, that it startled me. A sharp crack echoed through the quiet garden. The porcelain cup shattered under the sudden, brutal strength of my grip, hot tea spilling over my palm. Wataru quietly looked away, masterfully pretending not to notice the sudden outburst of supernatural rage.
"...Well, well. How incredibly interesting," Adrian's amused, dangerous voice broke the silence.
I snapped my green eyes toward him, my jaw clenched so hard the bone throbbed. Adrian wasn't looking at Rose across the street. His predatory red eyes were locked directly onto me, a slow, wicked smile creeping across his lips.
"So..." Adrian murmured softly, his smile widening into a sinister grin. "The great, untouchable Dante Valerius... has finally found a little toy he can't fucking control."
For the first time in centuries, Adrian looked genuinely, thoroughly entertained.