Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 728

Chapter 728: Taking the Voss Family Black Sheep

Eros drawled, voice lazy and lethal. "Straight to the freshest corpses: shall we? Vincent’s networks? Vapor. Dmitri’s operation? Six feet under. The man himself? Found dead in his cell. Very mysterious. Very convenient."

His smile sharpened, all teeth and zero mercy. "The CIA was gracious enough to lend a hand. Ava, naturally, was front-row for the whole show. Though—between me and you—I could’ve snapped that Russian pig’s neck myself without breaking a sweat. I’m perfectly capable of ending motherfuckers without government assistance. But why waste calories when the government’s eager to help clean up my trash?"

Helena’s eyes were twin arctic infernos now, fury boiling behind the ice, lips peeled back in a silent snarl, nostrils flaring like a cornered mare ready to bite or bolt. Her fists stayed clenched, nails carving bloody signatures into her palms.

"If you dragged me here just to gloat—"

"You’re here because you’re starving," Eros cut in smoothly, rolling right over her like her words were background noise. Because they were. "Ava’s triumphs got her promoted. Fast-tracked. Hand-picked to bodyguard the government’s shiniest new assets: Quantum Tech breakthroughs, Charlotte Thompson... and me. The walking enigma—Eros Velmior Desiderion—that has every spook who’s read my file jerking off to the mystery in the shower. So, fucking curious about me they can’t see straight."

He took one more step forward. Close enough now that the air between them turned viscous with his scent—raw musk rolling off in waves that punched straight to her hindbrain and made her thighs clench involuntarily.

"While you," he murmured, voice dropping into that intimate register that felt like fingers sliding under silk, "have been drifting like a used-up ghost. Cold-calling old contacts who let it ring out. Begging for table scraps from anyone desperate or dumb enough to take you. Trying to stitch together something—anything—from the smoking holes Ava left in your life.

"And failing. Over and over. Spectacularly. Because no one wants to bankroll the disgraced eldest daughter who coudln’t even protect her own bosses while her own baby sister gutted her bosses like fish."

Silence slammed down, absolute and suffocating.

Helena’s chest heaved in tight, furious pulls, tits straining against silk, nipples rigid and piercing-glinted, thighs pressed hard together to hide the slick betrayal biology was pumping into her cunt. Her eyes glistened—rage-tears she’d sooner die than let fall.

"Why am I here?" she asked, voice low and lethal. "Why the hotel, the suite, the days of waiting—just to rub my face in shit I already know? That I lost. That Ava won. That I’m desperate, alone, and completely, utterly fucked?"

Eros’s smile spread slow and predatory, the kind that promised he’d been herding her straight to this moment.

"Because you are desperate," he said, simple as stating the weather. "And desperate people make excellent employees when you give them what they need most."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Which is?"

"Purpose." He turned, strolled to the couch, and dropped into it with the lazy ownership of a king claiming his throne—legs sprawled wide, thick cock outlined shamelessly against his trousers.

"You’re good, Helena. Sickeningly good. Corporate sabotage, hostile acquisitions, precision demolition of empires, intel harvesting, blackmail artistry—the full filthy orchestra. You only lost because you hitched your wagon to idiots too arrogant to see me coming. Men who thought cash and bullets could outbid raw dominance."

He lifted his whiskey, took a slow swallow, throat working, Adam’s apple sliding like an invitation.

"Someone like you," Helena echoed, voice flat, venomous. "A seventeen-year-old with a god complex and god delusions?"

"Almost eighteen," Eros corrected, grin flashing white and wicked. "And ’delusions’ implies it isn’t real. Want a demonstration that every inch of power I claim is hard, earned, and very fucking functional?"

He pushed up from the couch again, but this time stepped backward—slow, deliberate—opening space while his scent still lingered like a brand.

"Or you could keep pretending your pride is worth more than the lifeline I’m dangling. Your choice, princess. But we both know which one your body already voted for."

"You know what two thousand stats really means?"

Another lazy step back, voice still casual, almost bored, like he was explaining the weather.

"It means I stopped being limited by normal human—"

He was gone.

Not blurred. Not fast. Gone. One heartbeat he was ten feet away, mid-word, and the next his hand was locked around her throat, fingers iron bands cinched just tight enough to remind her lungs who owned them now.

Towering.

Heat rolling off him in waves, muscles coiled and flexing under the shirt, pheromones slamming into her like a wall of raw sex and ownership that made her knees want to fold before her brain even caught up.

Eros lifted.

One-handed. Effortless. Her heels scraped carpet then dangled uselessly as he brought her up until her eyes were level with his, until gravity reminded her it no longer applied to her body—only to his whims. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"—constraints," he finished, voice perfectly even, conversational, as if he weren’t currently suspending a grown woman in the air by her throat with casual indifference. His thumb rested over her carotid, feeling it hammer against his skin like a frantic bird trying to escape a cage it had only just noticed.

"Still think I’m delusional?"

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