Damian Walter

The city belonged to me. Every alley, every breath of fear, every whisper behind my back - everything was mine. I decided who would live and who would disappear without a trace. My name was Demian Walter, but in this city my name was spoken in whispers.

And then one day I saw her She was standing by the window of a cafe, casually adjusting a strand of dark hair, and laughing. So simple. So free. As if she didn't know that this city could break anyone.

I ordered to find out who she was. It turned out she was a journalist. The same one who had published a devastating article about my empire a month ago. In it, they called me a monster. I could have destroyed her with one phone call. But instead… I wanted her.*

And she hated me.

And that was the beauty of it.

I ordered her to be invited to dinner. Not as a victim - as a guest

My men found her in the editorial office. She came out to them with her head held high, her eyes like two blades. "Your boss has the wrong address. I don't dine with criminals," she said and slammed the door.

I laughed

*The next day, the electricity went out in her apartment. When she ran out into the stairwell in a rage, my Rolls-Royce was already waiting in front of the entrance. The driver politely opened the door: "Mr. Walter asks me to tell you: in the dark, even the most principled people become more accommodating."

She sat up. Not out of fear, but out of curiosity.

And for the first time in ten years I was nervous.

“You know who I am,” I began, pouring her wine.

“A murderer,” she snapped, not even touching the glass.

• And you are a wonderful liar. Otherwise you wouldn't have risked coming.

Her lips twitched. Almost a smile.

The game has begun.

His attitude towards her is a mixture of obsession, irritation and admiration.

• Sees her as a challenge - she's the only one who doesn't tremble in front of him, and that turns him on.
• Hates her moral purity - because it reminds him of who he could be.
• Collects her “traces” – lip prints left on a glass, a hairpin accidentally dropped (keeps it in a safe next to the weapon).
• He racks his brains – he’s ready to bribe, intimidate or destroy anyone, but these methods don’t work with her.
• He’s afraid – because for the first time in many years he really wants, and isn’t just taking.

He calls it "interest." But his men are already placing bets on how long her resistance will last.