The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 437

Chapter 193: The Predator’s Game-1

A low chuckle slid through the phone.

“There he is…” Volkov murmured. “The cold Damien Blackwood. I was beginning to think you’d gone soft.”

Damien didn’t answer immediately. He watched a car’s headlights move like a slow pulse through

the street.

“If you called to reminisce,” he said evenly, “you’re wasting my time.”

Another chuckle. Amused. Testing.

“I see nothing’s changed. Still allergic to small talk.”

Then-

“I’m sure you’ve heard about my recent… misfortune,” Volkov continued, tone almost conversational. “And I’m assuming you had nothing to do with it.”

Damien’s jaw flexed once.

His voice turned razor-thin. “Are you asking… or are you accusing?”

A faint hum. “You tell me.”

“I have nothing to tell,” Damien replied calmly. “You make enemies wherever you go. It could be anyone.”

A soft exhale through the line. Not laughter this time.

“Are you one of them?”

The wind brushed against Damien’s shirt, cool and steady. His grip on the phone tightened just slightly.

“We stay out of each other’s lanes,” Damien’s tone didn’t waver. “That was the agreement. You do you I do me.”

“I hope so,” Volkov murmured. “I truly do. But you see… something has been bothering me.”

“That’s not my problem.”

The faintest scrape of glass against wood came through the line, as if Volkov had set down a

drink.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Volkov’s voice dipped, silk over steel. “Not long ago, I acquired an

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Chapter 193 The Predator’s Game 1

entertainment agency. You’ve probably heard of it. Orion.”

Damien said nothing.

+25 Points

“However,” Volkov continued casually, “one of my artists has gone missing,” A soft chuckle. “Young

man. Promising future.”

A pause.

“What was his name again…”

Another pause – deliberate now.

“Ah. Miller. Ethan Miller.”

The name hung there.

“Does that ring a bell?”

Damien’s jaw tightened. His silence was controlled.

“You think I keep up with entertainment gossip?” he said flatly.

A soft laugh.

“Oh, I know you don’t.”

The air seemed to tighten.

“But here’s the interesting part…”

A measured inhale.

“His last assignment before he disappeared… Volkov said softly, “was with your company.”

A low, sinister chuckle left Damien’s throat.

“Hmm…” he murmured. “You mean the arrogant piece of shit? That’s your so-called artist?”

Volkov burst into laughter. Genuine this time.

“Hahaha. I won’t deny it. He is, indeed, an arrogant piece of shit.

Damien leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on the stretch of darkness beyond, as if

the night itself were beneath his notice.

“I see.” His tone was thoughtful. Detached. “If I recall correctly, it didn’t work out. We terminated the contract.” A pause. “Sent him home before the shoot even ended.”

His voice cooled further.

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Chapter 193 The Predator’s Game T

“Where he went after that is none of my concern.”

A beat.

Volkov’s voice lowered. Testing.

“I wouldn’t happen to find his corpse buried somewhere on your… pretty island, would I?”

Damien laughed.

Not loudly.

Not warmly.

Darkly.

+25 Points

“You should know better, Viktor.” His voice dropped half a degree. “I don’t keep trash.” A pause. Especially not on my property.”

Silence.

Heavy now.

Then Damien’s tone shifted – not louder, not harsher.

Just sharper.

“Now I’m curious.”

A soft scrape of his shoe against the stone floor.

“Why would you assume that?” he asked mildly. “Are you suggesting you intentionally sent Ethan Miller my way?”

The words slowed.

“Because you couldn’t stay in your lane?”

For the first time, Volkov didn’t answer immediately.

A faint chill crept along his spine. That voice- calm, precise, lethal – didn’t belong to a man defending himself.

It belonged to a man dissecting.

Volkov’s original intention had been simple: provoke, observe, extract. Use the missing artist as bait and wait for a reaction – a shift in tone, a fracture in composure- anything to confirm the theory forming in his mind. That the recent “misfortune” he’d suffered had not been random at all.

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